Friday, August 30, 2002


Rick Chance, the founder of Empire Glass, an auto windshield repair business that, in addition to paying up to $100 of your insurance deductible, promises you 12 (count 'em, 12) free dinners if you do business iwth them, found himself murdered by one of the alleged several exotic dancers he was canoodling with, despite giving big bucks to his church and claiming to be more fond of the Scriptures than strippers. Brandi Hungerford, 25, is on the surveillance video checking in to visit Chance at a Best Western Hotel in Tempe. The next day, only one of them checked out.

Given her surname, Hungerford might have been attracted to Chance on the grounds of the dozen free meals he was serving up; the Empire Glass site clarifies that "This is a free dinner whether you dine alone, or if you are with someone else. This dinner offer is our way of thanking you for choosing Empire Glass Co. for you glass replacement needs." She also seemed fond of the $1 million in jewelry that Chance had in his briefcase. That police found two unwrapped condoms in his pocket suggests that things didn't go exactly as he planned that evening. Hungerford had checked into the hotel with her boyfriend, Robert Lemke Jr., a 24-year-old male stripper who dances under the name "Dakota". And here you thought that male strippers were only aroused by horned-up housewives who stuffed bills in their jockstraps.

A curious subplot involves Chance's ex-wife Jill Scott, a former Mrs. America. "Back in 1988, The ENQUIRER revealed that Jill had wed chance after dumping her husband George Scott--who claimed he'd shelled out $100,000 for plastic surgery to help her win the Mrs. America title!" However, not only did pageant officials successfully sue her for $100,000 for not admitting she was divorced from her first husband at the time of the pageant (wouldn't be married twice make one more qualified to be called "Mrs. America"?), she was later charged with filing a false $330,000 bankruptcy claim at the time she was married to the auto glass mogul ... and was also liable for a further $250,000 in damages after it was discovered her bible-thumping spouse hired a bounty hunter to shackle Scott's first hubby at gunpoint over unpaid child support, even as the poor sap was toiling at a Taco Bell in Belleville, Kansas. Got all that? Good.


She's Goldie Hawn's daughter, wife of rock star Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes--AND she starred in the rock epic "Almost Famous"--but Kate Hudson wasn't famous enough to get the backstage pass she demanded from security guards at the Rolling Stone concert in Toronto! "Don't you know who I am?" raged Kate. One guard snapped back: "No ... and I don't care!" But Kate lucked out when Totally Famous Sharon Stone came to her rescue and whisked her inside to meet Sir Mick & The Codgers!

What's fascinating about this story is hearing that the exact same scene reportedly repeated itself about 10 days later, except the performer in question was Hudson's scruffy husband. And no Sharon Stone to the rescue, either. Could it be that regardless of how many times Hudson appears on the cover of "Vogue", she's nevertheless destined to be using those same pictures 30 years from now on her website, not unlike her on-(and off-)screen role model.


Presumably, you could wallpaper the White House with one copy of every article The ENQUIRER has ever run deploring drug use amongst celebrities (and regular folk) over the past 50 years. Are we to presume the tide is turning? The headline for a four-paragraph item seems to laud Nelson for his weedish ways at age 69, even if the actual article makes no mention of such activities. (That is, unless most readers assume the term "itinerant singer" used by Nelson to described himself is a fancy euphemism for "baked".) Mike Walker's All The Gossip spread, meanwhile, serves up this nugget:

Clouds of funny-smelling smoke wafted up from "Spider-Man" hottie Kirsten Dunst's patio table at one of Hollywood's hottest nightspots--which included a "dealer" dude who kept rolling joints in plain sight and passing them around! It was brazen behavior even for TinselTown, and stunned eyewitnesses noticed that Kirsten toked every time a hand-rolled was passed around, made no effort to hide it--and kept getting progressively gigglier!!

The classifieds in this week's ENQUIRER, though, only feature one advert with the headline "BEING DRUG TESTED?" Just one? At this rate, it's only a matter of time before the clients who've traditionally bought into "High Times" are solicited to fill display space vacated by the tobacco companies.
posted by Marc Weisblott 3:38 PM Comments?

THE HOOKUP: Because it's The ENQUIRER, it takes a while to sink in that their (presumably) new The HOOKUP section is their equivalent of "Teen People" or any number of other Generation Y offshoots of popular periodicals. More recently, a revamped "Rolling Stone" is also prompting purists to shudder in response to the rock magazine's apparent determination to pander to the shorter attention spans of the generation born after MTV.

Could this be a trend, then? Will we be seeing The HOOKUP as a separate publication in supermarket checkout lines someday, competing for rack space with all of American Media's other rags? The latest installment features candid shots of starlets with exposed thongs, even if some of them (like Carre Otis) are shot from the rear--at least you know that's gotta be Pamela Anderson because of her tattoo. Also, a section called The Juice Bar informs us that Gwyneth Paltrow hangs out with Madonna, the bassist of Korn has a porn star sister, and the Osbournes found their dog. There are 7 Things You Didn't Know About ... Michelle Branch. "1: Born July 2, 1983 in Flagstaff, Ariz ... 4: is a huge fan of Steven Tyler." Well, the two of those things go together, don't they?

Also readers of The HOOKUP learn, in an exclusive interview that NELLY HURTS FOR HIS FRIEND. His former rapmate, City Spud (real name: Lavell Webb) "who's serving a 10-year sentence in a Missouri prison after pleading guilty to robbery and armed criminal action in 1999 for his role in a heist that left another man seriously wounded." Nelly is working with the system to try and get him out because, after all, it really is unfortunate that people who do things like that need to be incarcerated. Is it safe to say The HOOKUP section brandishes a morality that's distinct from the rest of The ENQUIRER?

Thursday, August 29, 2002


Just last month, The ENQUIRER were reporting on O.J.'s taped confession, where a bar girl hired by the mafia got Simpson high, and prompted him to confess. Now the paper reports on how, during an interview with low-rent Tampa-based redneck shock jock Bubba the Love Sponge, O.J. explained how The ENQUIRER photographers trailed him from Paris to Rome and back home again this summer. Because, you know, the thing we need to see most are more pictures of O.J.

Here's part of the featured transcript:

Bubba: "You can't take a s--- without them covering it."

O.J.: "Yeah."

O.J. also told Bubba that he will consider a $2 million cash offer to star in a porn movie "when my kids are out of school". Perhaps that'll inspire them to pursue a few PhD.s. Besides, there's already enough O.J. content gathering dust in the back room of the video store.


That's the latest ENQUIRER cover. Wait, haven't we seen this story before? Back in February, the magic number was 257--guess they just flipped the digits on the layout. But then, Oprah looks so dorky on the cover of her own magazine's latest issue, maybe she was asking for the grainy speedwalking shots that may or may not give credence to the inside source's claim that, "Her face is swollen nearly beyond recognition. It's puffy and full of ripples. The flesh is bumpy with peaks and valleys."


Well, based on this page of NYPD Blue screen shots, if your co-star's butt looked this slim and shady, you'd be reaching for the Preparation H, too


"Her verbally abusive father cheated on her mom--and then left the family when Jennifer was only 9," reports The ENQUIRER. Yeah, yeah, didn't we already know that? The story offers some insights from marital expert Dr. Judith S. Wallerstein, author of "The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce," but doesn't explain how Jen is now pals with her pop, while mommy sells family secrets behind her back.

A source close to the couple reveals: "Brad has nicknamed Jennifer 'The Leaker' because she cries so much. If she's not careful, her cheating worries will turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy." The Leaker? If this sobriquet catches on, maybe there's a product that Aniston can endorse.

Here's the most interesting allegation, though: "Jennifer has a pair of cargo pants and orange Maharishi-styled pants--and that's pretty much her wardrobe. But fed-up Brad suggests she puts on a dress for those rare occasions they go out." Yeah, because it's really important that you show off your figure in the latest couture when you're hanging offa him.


See what a reputation for having a huge schlong will get you after you croak? It becomes a revelation that "Mr. Television" was only an "average" lover. His showgirl mistress, Jean Forray, explains in The ENQUIRER:

"Millions of people saw him as a loud, brash personality who dressed in women's clothes and was never more than a second away from slapstick. But I loved the little boy in him. The clown antics were all for show. I knew how romantic he could be when we were alone."

They had a love child named Robert because, well, that's what people did in those days. (Actually, she had an abortion the first time around.) And while Uncle Miltie was onto his second wife, Forray reunited with Berle's prodigious appendage in the '80s.

"I remember one wonderful night in Vegas--when I was 59 and he was 76--I asked him, 'Aren't we getting a little old for this?' Obviously we weren't."

A little old for this? Really, now. After all, Miltie certainly didn't think he was a little old for this.