We're beginning to suspect Lindsay Lohan knows absolutely nothing about money—how to save it, how to spend it and perhaps even what it looks like. Proof #1: Lindsay owes money not only to the feds and her lawyers, but according to Radar Online, she can't even afford a two-bedroom apartment in North Hollywood and has lately been couch-surfing with friends or (gasp!) living with her MOTHER. Proof #2: Lindsay borrowed a $1,750 gorgeous, floor-sweeping beaded gown from hot designer Theia, which she wore to an AIDS research event in NYC—and naturally accidentally ripped it. So to avoid further damage, did she excuse herself to change clothes? No, according to Us magazine, she tore off the entire bottom half of the expensive gown, turning it into a ragged mini—and continued to party the night away. Proof #3: LiLo is demanding half a million dollars—to promote an energy drink? Radar Online reports that the Mr. Pink energy drink company would love to pay Ms. Lohan a whopping $200,000 plus travel expenses to promote their probably terrible drink in Dubai—but due to her ever dwindling finances, Lindsay is balking, and demanding a cool $500,000 to simply stand there holding a drink can in her rapidly decaying hand. DEAR MR. PINK: Do not pay her half a million dollars! (Unless she agrees to mud wrestle Kim Kardashian. That we'd pay to see.)
Speaking of the most horrid troll/freak/witch in the world, Kim Kardashian is now refusing to sign autographs—why? Because her boyfriend told her not to! According to an interview in DuJour magazine, KarKrash claims to have turned into a much more "private" person since hooking up with gravy train boytoy Kanye West, and is thusly more selective when fans ask for her signature or photo. "I just tell them, sorry, but my boyfriend won't let me," Kim said. UGH. Just when you think your respect for someone has hit the absolute bottom, Kim finds a way to dig a hole within a hole. MEANWHILE... TMZ joyously announced today the name of Britney Spears new alleged boyfriend, and his name is... drum roll please... "David." Yes, apparently just "David." So what do we know about "David"? "David" works for a law firm—but is not a lawyer. "David" is from Atlanta, and likes to play "golf." "David" is also a fast eater, taking Brit-Brit out for a Valentine's Day dinner, which was ingested within 30 minutes. In addition, "David" is a decent tipper, leaving a $13 tip for a $60 meal. And that is the extent of what we currently know about "David." Please stay tuned to One Day at a Time, where we will pride ourselves on having the latest breaking news on "David" as well as providing up-to-the-minute "David" updates.
Happy birthday, Rihanna! And because it's your birthday, our present is not saying a single disparaging word about your doucheb... (AHEM) absolutely darling boyfriend Chris Brown. Hmmm... it says here in Us magazine that you spent your entire birthday with that sack of shiiiii... "favorite person in the world" on the beach in Hawaii, frolicking and canoodling on the sand. (Grimace.) You also took some Instagram pics of yourself snuggling in Brown's lap (grrrrrrrrrrrr...) and sending out saucy twatters such as "Walked up into #2013 like I owned a ho." Whu... whu... WHAT? "OWNED A HO???" Okay, screw your birthday, Rihanna! We can momentarily pretend that Chris Brown is not an absolutely disgusting horse's ass—but if you're seriously going to start acting like him? You'll receive a different birthday present. We'll start referring to you two as R&B's "Heidi and Spencer!"
One Day at a Time favorite Shia LaBeof returns to the column, and... what's all this? The petulant, hairy actor has quit the Broadway revival of Orphans, due to creative differences between himself and co-star Alec Baldwin? IMPOSSIBLE. They're both such sweethearts! Ahhh... but it gets even better. In "The Beef's" goodbye email, Shia goes into a long, boring diatribe on what it means to be "a man"—one that was almost entirely plagiarized from a 2009 article from Esquire. Oh, sweet, sweet Shia—is this juicy tidbit a taste of what we can expect in the future? If so, we couldn't be more delighted! Now, start dating Lindsay Lohan immediately!
"Fergie and Josh Duhamel have some exciting news to share: They're going to become first-time parents later this year!" reports Us. We mention this not because anyone cares about their baby (because no one does), but because hey, remember when Fergie peed her pants onstage in 2009? Ha! That was the best. Never forget, Fergie. Never forget. (Because we will never let you.) Anyway, congratulations! (On peeing your pants onstage in 2009.) MEANWHILE... Hollyweird's skeeviest skeevster, John Mayer, has apparently succeeded in luring another young starlet into his greasy embrace... and this time it's S-E-R-I-O-U-S. "Katy Perry and John Mayer have decided they want a 'really intimate' wedding ceremony," claims Yahoo's OMG! gossip site. Mayer—who's been linked with everyone from Jennifer Aniston to Jessica Simpson—and Katy—who was married to Russell Brand, like, five minutes ago—are apparently scoping out places around Katy's hometown of Santa Barbara as a place to get hitched. Katy! Honey! You can do better! Yes, yes, we know John's a step up from Russell. But still! MEANWHILE... TMZ reports, "A man was arrested outside of Rihanna's Southern California home in the Pacific Palisades," adding that he "never entered Rihanna's home... but, in fact, entered the home next door believing it was Rihanna's home." Well played, Rihanna, well played. Now, quick! Next time Chris Brown comes over, trick him going into to your decoy house, too! You're cleverer than we thought! (Alternately, dear, you could be really clever and, you know, stop inviting him over.)
So remember last week when Pope Benedict XVI abruptly announced his retirement, and everybody was all, "Wha-huh?!" (Well, except for Catholics. They're used to accepting things that don't make any sense.) WELL! Turns out that Italian newspapers are going koo-koo-crazy over rumors that the delivery of a secret report—"two volumes of almost 300 pages—bound in red," according to La Repubblica—immediately preceded the pope's hasty resignation, and has since been kept under lock and key, waiting to be read by the next poor sap who gets the pope's gig. The contents of the report apparently suggest that there's a faction of Vatican officials "united by sexual orientation," along with some who have been swayed by "external influence" (that means blackmail) from those with whom they've had relationships of a "worldly nature" (that means hot gay Vatican sex). Naturally, Vatican spokesman Father Federico Lombardi refused to engage with the rumors. But really, can you blame him? Pretending things simply aren't happening has worked out great for the Catholic Church so far.
Today marked everyone in Hollywood's favorite dress-up tea party, the Oscars—in which Argo won Best Picture, dimwitted host Seth MacFarlane presented his musical number "We Saw Your Boobs" (a song about how if actresses work very hard in life, one day the jackass culpable for Family Guy might compliment them on having a nice rack), and adorable Best Actress nominee Quvenzhané Wallis was basically the most adorable thing ever and easily the best thing about the whole night. (Except for maybe when Adele sang her song from Skyfall! That was pretty great, too.) BUT MOVE ASIDE, OSCAR! The real star—no, the real hero—of the night was Charlize Theron, who "rushed to help a security guard who was suffering from a seizure" before the show, reports E! "The actress was one of the few people around the man when he went down, and attempted to help him up, before someone else phoned a doctor." Ah-ha. So this explains why Hubby Kip kept loudly pretending to fall over last night. Nice try, Kip. Nice try.