BIEBERWATCH! Last year, Paramount hinted at plans for a major JUSTIN BIEBER vehicle: some kind of basketball movie teaming our twink swag hunk with former teen throb "MARKY MARK" WAHLBERG. Wahlby spoke to Billboard recently about the quality time he'd spent with Biebs already:
"I see the guy and spent time with him, and you see what he does and how he does it, and then you actually have a conversation with him and it's there," said Wahlberg. "If not, I will extract it." Mark Wahlberg, if you're reading this, please mail me a diagram of whatever the fuck you're trying to say.
Last month, it seemed that SINÉAD O'CONNOR's online cattle call for male suitors panned out: she wowed the world with a fairytale Las Vegas wedding to Barry Herridge, a therapist with an enormous head. But, alas, their romance wasn't meant to be: after just sixteen days, the couple parted ways. On her blog, Sinéad explained that the marriage (her fourth) had met significant (and highly understandable) disapproval from certain parties in her fellow's personal and professional spheres. Furthermore, he was "enormously wounded and very badly effected [sic]" by a post-wedding weed hunt carried out by Sinéad (what a wuss).
"I saw his life leave him because of how people close to him reacted. And I can't take anyone's life. And a woman wants to be a joy to her husband," said the broken-hearted Sinéad. "So if you love someone? Set them free." Despite her blues, she was kind enough to give me full permission to perform my sad duty: "So now u can all go ahead and have a great laugh, media wise, and be horrid if u desire to."
It just goes to show that marriages that seem perfect — even the ones built on rock-solid foundations of desperate, sex-starved blog posts by unstable former celebrities — can go sour for completely predictable reasons. My heartfelt sympathies to Sinéad; may her fifth time be the charm.
Obsolete cultural unit NELLY has long been dogged by rumors of brokeness, and here's another one: TMZ has reported that he's been sued by American Express for more than $20 grand in unpaid credit card bills. My theory: Nelly unwittingly ran up the bill when crafty strippers started installing magnetic card readers in their butt cracks.
And here are a couple of dudes who aren't broke at all: JAY-Z and KANYE WEST were paid almost $3 million apiece to fly out to Dubai and play the 16th birthday bash of a billionaire's daughter. That's good money, but they should watch out: you can only play so many children's parties before you get classified as a clown.
There's no great reason to shoot a rapper, but give me a fucking break: police say the recent slaying of Brick Squad affiliate and Waka Flocka friend SLIM DUNKIN stemmed from a dispute over a candy snatching. Details are scarce, but Dunkin reportedly grabbed a piece of candy from the hands of a dude named Vinson Hardimon; things escalated into a fistfight, and Hardimon, incensed and possibly suffering from low blood sugar, allegedly shot Dunkin dead. So cruel is fate: a man with a confection-related nickname brought down by his own greed for sweets.
In a recent TMZ interview, R. KELLY revealed that he's got 32 more chapters planned for Trapped in the Closet, his ongoing serial masterpiece. Unfortunately, he might need a little help to bring his Shakespearean saga to completion: "It costs a lot of money, so we're looking for investors," he said. Just hand me the forms, R., and I'll gladly sign over my life savings to fund this important endeavor. It would be a gift, not a loan. The world needs your genius.
DAVID THORPE | dthorpe[a]phx.com