I’ll say this for Shakira. She’s one bendy Colombian. In fact, I don’t know a single bendier Colombian, or anyone called Alejandro for that matter, or been to Egypt, or had a “peanut butter & jelly sandwich”, or ridden on a tandem. Oh god, I’ve done nothing. I’ve never even bought a Shakira record. I guess that’s something to cling onto.

Here’s bendy Shakira doing what she does best: bending.

Is this hot? I guess having three vertebrae removed so you can touch the back of your head to your pelvis is pretty hot. It shows commitment. And commitment is always hot.

It must be hard for a high rolling, ho loving, Death Row, gold jacuzzi, West Coast rap gangsta legend to come out as gay-friendly, but last night Snoop Dogg did it in style:

That’s class. And it gets better. At the CMT Music Awards – in the after show party – tha Doggfather spotted LeAnn Rimes, slid over and offered her husband $5,000 for the pleasure of nailing her. I’m guessing that’s $4,995 for the sex, $5 for the pillowcase. It’s been reported that when Dogg saw her across the room he barked out: “Wow – damn! Who is that?” – a reasonable question, even when you’re not blind from weed. Then he pressed a roll of fifties into the smooth hands of her beard husband, the dancer Dean Sheremet. Damn, it must have killed him to give back the cash. He can’t be on more than $40,000 a year from LeAnn to play married.

Kat DeLuna has been discharged from hospital after a nasty pile-up at a BK drive thru. Her lawyers say that there could have been many more casualities if the driver, Bruno Iglesias, hadn’t been so quick with his responses, swerving his Lamborghini into the intercom terminal, and then running off to fetch help 6 hours later when the police arrived at his appartment. No other cars were involved in the incident.

Although unhurt, Kat did seem to still be wearing an emergency airbag to the Billboard Latin Music Awards this week:

I’ve got a soft spot for Kat. She’s the girl with the best ever middle name – “Emperatriz” – how come I didn’t get called shit like that? Damn my Uncle Steve for not being called Emperatriz.

Jane Carrey, daughter of Jim, has had a tattoist get medieval on her ass: she’s got three lines of Latin between the shoulder blades -

The lines are:

Confutatis Maledictis,
Flammis Acribus Addictis:
Voca Me Cum Benedictis.

Which roughly translates as, “can you tell me where the nearest laser treatment center is?” I don’t like the tat. It makes her look like a scroll. That’s what I’d shout from behind the red rope. “Hey! Scroll! You look like a fucking scroll!” That’s what I’d shout.

So I hear that Michael Caine Jr has been seeing her again, for a little Fun with Dick and Jane. I can see why. I’d hit it. She’s in that ‘trying to be nasty’, don’t tell daddy, Angelina-lite phase that I’m forever stuck in. Check her handbag – toys, chains and a wrap.

Rumer Willis, our favourite genetic experiment gone wrong (how did those genes not fit right?) is in danger, and not just from the Face Police. She’s got the whole Franklin clan up in arms after she unceremoniously dumped Aretha’s favourite nephew, Franklin Franklin, for Diana Ross’s son Evan, who by the way is fourteen kinds of droopy-eyed, weed-brained, puppydog hot:

Aretha’s going to eat her when she finds out. Toss her bones out of the car window and burp. It’s as simple as that. There’s no corner of Motown he can hide from Auntie Ree when she comes looking for her fug ass.

Franklin has already found out. He’s still not 100% ok in the brain after the electro-shock, and he was asked to move on by police after standing outside Rumer’s apartment holding this sign:

I feel sorry for Franklin. Something’s not right upstairs. Normally I don’t care about that kind of shit but Franklin kind of scares me. He’s the kind of guy who watches you sleep. From a rocking chair next to the bed.

Get that shirt off! Toss it in the pool! Matt McConaughey is celebrating tonight, happy and shirtless, having won the part of Mr Incredible in the new live-action remake of the 2004 cartoon. There’ll be a party down in Austin tonight, yessir, and a delighted Matthew will be popping open the rentboys champagne.

It’s a perfect fit. Pumped up, 2 dimensional, and gets his fug face covered with a mask. Looking at that pic, I think it’s Matt’s chin that won it. Seriously, you could launch a lifeboat off that chin – although I’d sooner just drive over it with a Buick.

Pumped as he is, rumour has it that Matt invested in $30,000 pectoral implants to secure the role. That’s nasty. Still, not the first time he’s felt a prick and blinked back the tears to get a job. (And by “prick”, of course, I mean penis”).

Jesus – I’m just thinking – The Incredibles was in 2004? as long ago as that? what took them so long to remake it? and when’s the cartoon remake of the live-action remake scheduled?

Poor Bruno. Unceremoniously dumped by Shakira, snapped naked on Jay-Z’s yacht – his head’s in a spin, and his car’s in the wrecking yard.

A reader submits this report of possibly intoxicated Ferrari-lamping Bruno Iglesias’s whereabouts before last night’s much-publicized thrill ride:

I was on the way to the MUSE concert at the Greek Theater on Wed 7/19. (MUSE *rock!*) I took a left out of Hillhurst past Franklin’s on Franklin Av. Spotted Bruno Iglesias looking agitated, talking into his mobile. Then an Oldsmobile pulls up alongside him, Bruno gets straight in, and his head disappears under the dash. That’s all I got before the lights changed. He didn’t seem drunk, just a bit edgy.

Of course, all this report really tells us is that Iglesias could have been anxious about hooking up with some girl (?) – unless of course his agitation was of the Columbian variety.

Jessica Schweppes was seen out with a brand new mystery pooch after her old fav was slain by reality star Bongo Zappa:

Fresh from the pet-store: only 3 days after the death of her beloved Chihuahua, Beethoven, Jess Schweppes has been seen lunching with a new toy. Celeb lap dog Beethoven was crushed Tuesday under the wheels of a Monster Truck during a set-up for Bongo Zappa’s new celebrity gotcha show Fuck You!

The troubled soft drinks heiress, Jessica Schweppes, was seen by Us Weekly threatening to sue Zappa for “ten billion ” but the pair were later seen leaving the Viper Room together and stumbling into Zappa’s Hummer. According to US Weekly:

Schweppes looked like she’d been crying. Her make-up was smeared and her mobile phone was caught in her thong.

Schweppes seems to have gotten over the grief, and has upgraded her dog to the hot new breed called the ‘Teacup Chihuaha’ – the smallest dogs on the planet. Sandra Kane from The Chihuahua Store tells us:

They make great pets, but do suffer from bladder problems.

So… should be the perfect match for Schweppes. Sorry Jess, we love ya!! – and remember, everyone has lost control after too much booze. It’s just a pity it happened to you on the Big Wheel at a fairground.