Everyone's going to freak out for various reasons — some legitimate, some not so much — but it must be known that Rihanna, singer of club anthems and Battleship thespian, is a fan of singer Chris Brown. Like a straddling and hugging him fan. She's posted a photo on Instagram in which she's doing just that to the guy who beat her up just a few years ago, firmly, well, affirming that she and Brown are fully reconciled. And maybe back together? Who's to say, really. Chris Brown is 23, Rihanna is 24, and those aren't quite ages when everything makes sense and things are steadfast and able. Oftentimes during those middling years, things are rocky and strange and confusing and inconsistent. Hence, I guess, this strange reunion. Me, I'd never be able to get back with a guy who'd done that to me. You probably feel the same. And that's fine, to feel that way, to shake your head at Rihanna and say, "What are you doing?" But! But it's her choice and we don't know her, well at least most of us don't, so please don't run to Tumblr right now and write some outraged thinky about how Rihanna is doing a bad thing for all women or something like that, because reactions like that frustratingly assume an uncomplicated world when the truth is anything but. Anything but. Leave Rihanna alone, I guess, is my point here, as I shriek into the void, listening to "We Found Love" for the millionth time, the past and the present colliding in befuddling ways. And, really, what we should all be wondering instead is this: Who the f$%k took that photo?? Isn't that the biggest unsolved mystery about this? Like, beyond the romance between the two? Who is the creeper who snapped this snap, and is this a weirdly posed moment or was it candid or what? These are the questions to which we need the answers. Hopefully it wasn't Ma Breezy or whatever that lady is called. Hopefully it wasn't her. [Instagram]
Other people who have made up nice are Halle Berry and her ex, Gabriel Aubry. After Aubry got the poop hit out of him by Berry's current main squeeze, S.W.A.T. villain Olivier Martinez, the parents of daughter Nahla have made a truce. Like, legally. Their lawyers did it for them in court. But no one knows what the terms of the peace pact are, exactly, and maybe we never will. The biggest question up for debate seemed to be whether Berry and Martinez could move to Paris with Nahla, which Aubry did not want to happen, so I guess we'll only know if Halle Berry up and moves to Paris. Maybe she will, maybe she won't. The world will have to wait and see. And now, folks, let's be done with Halle Berry gossip, shall we? Halle Berry is not a very interesting person. So we should really stop whispering and wondering about her. Like, right now. Right.... now. [Page Six]
Speaking of people we should never speak of again, Lindsay Lohan is in a bad way, if TMZ is to be believed. They are saying that Lohan has been on something of an extended bender of late, drinking "two liters of vodka" a day and behaving violently toward anyone who tries to confront her about it. Which, if true, is obviously a terrible disaster and she needs to stop. But if not true, where are you getting this info, TMZ? It almost seems sometimes like Lindsay Lohan has more people around her who are willing to rat her out to gossip websites than people who aren't. Y'know? Like, that girl, beyond anything else, beyond slapping people and running people's feet over and falling asleep in motor vehicles in embarrassing ways and making I Know Who Killed Me, she makes the very frequent mistake of choosing the wrong people to hang out with. She is just really terrible at picking friends. Maybe that's her biggest problem. Lindsay Lohan's biggest problem, well, second-biggest after two liters of vodka a day (if that's true), is that she has absolutely no reliable ability to select decent and helpful friends. Or, rather, she's reliably terrible at it. Sigh. It's almost too much. When does she move to Montana and become a stolid rancher's wife who shakes her head when the old days are brought up and says "Don't have much to say about that," as she tosses feed to the chickens? I'm really eager for that to happen. [TMZ]
Katie Holmes's new show Dead Accounts just opened on Broadway last night, and Page Six has a nice item about her looking all smiles after the performance. They go on with the niceties for a couple of paragraphs and then point out that their theater critic said that Holmes is "one note — shrill, impatient — and yells it at top volume." Oh. OK. So it is not a nice item, it is a set-up to a bad item. Cool, Page Six. Is that representative of all of her reviews? Eh, sorta. Ben Brantley at The New York Times says that she is at least more assured than she was in her Broadway debut, the disastrous All My Sons, and then he gets this great line in: "Ms. Holmes suggests what might have happened to Joey Potter, the ultimate girl-next-door she once portrayed on TV in Dawson’s Creek, had she never found true love or left town." Ha! Ben Brantley watched Dawson's Creek! Enough to pass character judgment on Joey Potter! Who cares how Katie Holmes is in the show? This is today's dynamite theater news. Oh, Brantley, you old queen. Tell us what you think about Charlie from the terrible college years next. [Page Six]
The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, young William and Kate, are moving from the little Welsh island where they've spent the first year of their marriage to apartment 1A in Kensington Palace in London. That's not some little charming newlywed apartment, mind you. It's four floors and twenty rooms. So basically William and Kate have stopped f-cking around. Now it's serious. Now they're royalty. Be gone, Welsh days of shopping at supermarkets and living like filthy commoners. Hello, palace. Hello, London. Hello, glitz and glam and the rightful place in the lap of luxury. The ostensible reason for the move is that Kate is hoping to get pregnant and raising a baby on the Welsh island wouldn't be secure enough, but obviously the real reason is Apartment 1A in Kensington Palace. The real reason is London. The real reason is being honest about where they are and what they've got. Or rather the sheer idiocy of what they haven't got, which isn't much. So, fine. Enjoy it, rich people. May your days be blessed. And may you birth a child so that Harry can be even further from the throne, which is what he wants, so he can wear a sombrero and drink party-ritas and bed server girls until his end of days, which is what he wants. May everything work out perfectly as planned for all of you. [Us Weekly]
Joe Jonas is dating a new someone. Um, a female someone, so, uh, that's still going on. The one-time teen sensation musician has been seen palling around with a model whose name is Blanda Eggenschwiler. Which.... hahahahhahahaha. Sorry. But "Blanda Eggenschwiler"??? Nothing Blanda about my last name, which is Eggenschwiler. Also, Joe Jonas, stop making up girlfriends. If you're going to do it, at least give them credible names. "Her name is, uh, [thinking about what actual sex with a woman would be like for him] Blanda... [looking at groceries on kitchen counter] Eggen... [looking at family dog] schwiler. Yeah. That's it. That's her name. Blanda Eggenschwiler. She's real, I swear. Realest person there is. I know her name is the name a child makes up when they are being silly, but I swear. She's a real lady. A real human lady with all the appropriate parts and fixtures. Which I like to manipulate, because, y'know, girls are what I'm into. End communication." Poor Joe Jonas. [Daily Mail]
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