New York News Blog

​Gosh, I hate to drum up a title as sensationally tacky as that one, but let's get serious: That's exactly what's going to happen unless Lindsay's warring parents take some extreme measures and try to belatedly convince the young tabloid star that they actually care about her as a human being.

​Hairy chested fashion god Tom Ford has turned director, his debut A Single Man getting kudos at the Venice Film Festival en route to American hoopla and Oscar consideration.

And now, Tom has turned blabbermouth too, thankfully enough, in an Advocate interview in which he talks about his first gay sexual experience after a night at Studio 54 (Didn't we all?) and also about his dire days working at YSL.

​In this economic climate, establishments are doing everything but blow you to get your attention and more importantly your buck. But I was still a little bit shocked to see a sign in the window of my neighborhood Duane Reade announcing that they now have a doctor in the house for walk-in medical attention, and no appointment is necessary!

​Paul Bettany and Jennnifer Connelly costar in an imminent movie called Creation about the history-making Charles Darwin and the wife, which gets me to wondering about a whole other theory of creation:

When a couple is hot and heavy and/or married offscreen, does that always translate into sizzling chemistry ONscreen?

The other day a raggedy looking man approached me on the street and asked "Can you spare a quarter?" I'm not proud to admit that my immediate response--even before he finished that sentence--was to say "No" and rudely turn away.

But why? Surely I could have spared some pocket change, especially to someone who seemed so desperate.

​One of the awful things about getting a teeny bit older is that you start becoming sentimental about everything to the point where movies and plays that used to have you rolling your eyes suddenly make you break into more tears than an actress trying to get an Oscar nomination.

In the theater, I'll start welling up if something--anything--is well done, even if it isn't the least bit sad or poignant. I actually cried during a couple of parts of Bye, Bye Birdie, and if you repeat that, I'll kill you!

And if a film moves me, my eyes will start leaking in the most humiliating way imaginable, giving out the completely wrong impression that I'm almost human.

​In the wake of the Maine horror, there's been some way more appealing news. Governor David Paterson is including marriage equality in the sweeping November 10 session he is calling for, bringing gay marriage before the State Senate for approval!

Or at least he will if no one blocks it, as they have before.

And if the topic is brought to the fabulous floor, will it pass with flying rainbow colors?

No way, honey.

That's all you need to know about this amazing clip--except that the foxy lady also claims to be a nominee for the Nobel Prize in medicine.

Check it out and see if you give Desire Dubounet the hook or the ovation. I personally feel she couldn't hit a note with a fly swatter, but who cares? The feeling is certainly there.

​It's a common fallacy to think that all bad breaths are equally hateful. In reality, there are different types of bad breath, and some are way more putrid than others.

Jizz breath isn't all that bad, truth be told. It's kind of risky smelling, yet somehow piquant and appealing. Or is it just me?

Booze breath is always scary--don't light a match--but often intoxicating enough to make you want to order your own cocktail pronto.

​Greg Weiner! You have to believe me on that, people! I just got a press release saying that's his name and it's for reals!

I guess Andy Dick wasn't available.