Katie Couric: Mother Courage

The destruction of the old, powerful, liberal, crusading CBS News is in full swing.

Katie Couric , who takes over as host of the Evening News and figurehead of the news division in September, has laid down the law when it comes to traveling to world hot spots like Lebanon:

Hell, no, she ain’t gonna go.

"I think the situation there is so dangerous, and as a single parent with two children, that's something I won't be doing," Katie was quoted today.

After ABC News foolishly put its fledgling anchorman in harm’s way, almost killing him and scrapping the division's plans for a youthful, coed future, maybe Katie’s playing it smart. But she’s not a newswoman. She's a spunky personality and celebrity as news host. You can expect to see Katie moderating phony "town meetings" at the sites of school shootings, and even traveling to interview the mother of the next JonBenet. She just won't be buying a Burberry or flak jacket.

And though she will not be long for the job, Katie is deliberately setting new rules for the game, and setting the standard for a news operation that will deliberately be indistinguishable from Access Hollywood, which broke this historic news.

Rock Star's Storm Large censored by CBS

Call it a case of "Sex & Jugs & Rock & Roll." With Rock Star: Supernova, it looks like CBS is keeping at least one contestant's "body" of work... under wraps.

Supernova is our must-watch show of the summer. It's a hoot watching clueless pop wannabes sing REM and Bjork tunes in hopes of fronting a band of oldsters including schkeevey Tommy Lee and Gilby Clarke, who's been resurrected as a character from Deadwood.

The potential winners are already easy to pick (a crazy-looking woman with spikes jutting from her jaw and a round-headed kid who's a cross between Edward Scissorhands and Pete Doherty). The rest are Young Republican types who'd fit back in at the insurance office as soon as they wiped off the mascara and removed the earring, and though Courtney Love is picking up much-needed cash by allowing the massacre of her dead husband's Nirvana catalogue, it's definitely a TiVo show, so painfully boring numbers can be fast-forwarded.

Then there's the gal who calls herself Storm Large.

She performs like a Broadway diva who spent too much time locked in a room with Toni Basil videos, and seems to be "acting" the part. But she's a looker just the same, as Lee pointed out when he said he wanted to see "more" of her.

Her response: "G-o-o-g-l-e."

Funny that CBS would allow that line on the air when they've censored her website!

We got around to googling Storm Large and were surpised to find she has a band named The Balls (with videos available on YouTube). And unless the whole web history is a promo scam, she seems to have a reputation, not around 44th Street or Santa Monica Blvd., but in and around Portland, Oregon (home of The Hudson Brothers).

And she's a lot dirtier than CBS lets on. In fact, she may have something to hide, and CBS knows it, as the cock-blocked website for Storm and The Balls confirms:

The Powers That Be in Hollywood asked us to take down some of our other pages for a while.

I know...we're as bummed as you are, but we cooperated.

We found these pix on her Myspace site (which plays a pleasant Balls song: ABBA's "Take A Chance On Me" over the riff from In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida). There are bound to be more, most likely doled out by CBS flaks to generate controversy for the show.

In the meantime, CBS didn't shut contestant Dilana's site. We'll be Googling the other Supernovettes as we await word of Storm's Playboy spread.

UPDATE!!!
EVEN BIGGER (TOPLESS) UPDATE!!!!

Pat O'Brien's Betsy has a blog

You remember Pat O’Brien, the sportscaster turned Hollywood host, and his most memorable soliloquy, the one he left on a woman’s voicemail while trying to arrange a three-way for himself and his girlfriend Betsy:

I wanna f---ing go crazy with you... You are so f---ing hot, and I wanna eat you, and I want you to suck my c---, and I want to f--- you. ... Let's do it, you are so f---ing hot, leave me a voicemail. I'm going to the bathroom, leave me a voicemail... I told Betsy that you were into her... I want to lick your p----and make you cum so much... I want you badly, I know you want me... I am so f---ing into you.

You have to pay attention to Betsy, but let's have fun. I wanna f---in' eat you and f--- you and suck your t--s and watch you eat Betsy and lick you’re a--. I'm so f---ing into you, it's incredible. Uhm, check this message, and then just say to me, "Yes." ... I wanna f---in' suck your pussy, talk dirty to you, watch you and Betsy eat each other, suck my c---, b--- off on your face. Get another woman up, hire a hooker. Let's get crazy, get some coke.

O’Brien made television history when he put the scandal behind by slipping into posh “rehab," getting out in time for Sweeps and submitting to a humiliating, embarrassing, emasculating, prime time hour with Dr. Phil that turned out to be one of the best television hours we've been privileged to witness.

O’Brien is still out there with that slimy show, The Insider. And his galpal Betsy has a blog.

“B… Scene” at bforbetsy.blogspot.com is a lifestyles of the privileged travelogue that records Pat & Betsy's adventures and the people they meet as they jet around the world for his TV gigs or other pursuits. It may actually be written by Betsy, or assembled by the couple's public relations team (because she's apparently also using O'Brien's sports connections to sell stuff). In either case, it just might suggest that Pat is up to his old hot, crazy tricks. But you have to read between the lines. A little:

July 17, 2006: The Basilica Vaticana

POB, Bobby, Michaela and I headed to St. Peter's Cathedral at the Vatican with our guide, Gian Carlo. Lots to learn... Pat & I did a shadow kiss on the bronze door…

Sunday July 16, 2006: Roma, baby

POB spares NO expense or lack of adventure when we're on the road...something that makes travelling such an amazing experience! On Thursday, we were fortunate enough to be invited to... the Papal Mass... being about 150 ft. from the Pope, was completely surreal!

Sunday June 25, 2006: Pimp my ride…

POB & I hit the Elks Lodge today in Pasadena to check out some fat-mack-daddy hot rods! Sweet!

June 11, 2006

Yoo hoo out there! Greetings from the sticks!

May 28, 2006: More from the Snake Pit Ball!

Me and Carmelo Anthony

May 27, 2006: Indianapolis is the nicest city!

With the nicest people! We love it here! Hot & humid, but oh-so-exciting!

Good morning from Indianapolis!

Pat and I took the lovely red-eye from LAX Thursday... checked into the hotel and took a quick nap... The Indy fans are one-of-a-kind! This place is NUTS!! Very cool! Last night, we were invited to a nice dinner with Indy board member, Scott Blumenthal and his great wife, Belinda, at the Canterbury Hotel. Old-School! Back to our hotel... and then bed!

May 21, 2006: The Mile High Club...
Sally, Sus, Scotti, Virg, Hilary, Georgina and me, Bets


We could keep going on (because Betsy does), but you get the idea. Check it out yourself. Meanwhile, we'll wait for Betsy to put up some real hot, crazy video.


But... Gene Simmons?

Exclusive! Beatles tribute bands wage war!

All you need is love? No way! At least not in ultracompetitive Beatle Tribute Land, where two of the foremost groups of Beatles imitators are at war-- with a “Ringo” in the middle.

The world of dead ringer, note-perfect copycats is being rocked by the animosity between Fab Forever and The Fab Four, a battle of the bands that began with the alleged attempted theft of a drummer.

At the center of the scandal is Jerry Peluso, known as the Brian Epstein of Tribute Groups (though he’s not gay or Jewish and, as far as we know, never spent a dirty weekend with his Lennon character). In the late 90s, Peluso managed the Fab Four and took them from low-paying gigs to the toppermost of the imitators’ poppermost with an extended stay at the Las Vegas Hilton in 2000. But at the peak of their success, according to Peluso, the Fabs booted him to the curb “and got away with it because we were working on a handshake deal.”

Peluso responded by digging deep into the Beatles tribute underworld and gathering the four best individual Beatle players in the country-- including Peter George, who plays John Lennon (we know, this gets confusing) and drummer Greg George (no relation), who performed as Ringo in the popular tribute group, 1964 The Tribute.

Through intense rehearsals, Peluso whipped the new group into top shape, turned them into Fab Four rivals, and is now taking them to ultimate Tribute heights with an all-out theatrical production that takes the audience through “A Musical History Tour” of the Beatles.

And that’s when things got ugly. After he secured some high-end gigs for the new Beatles band, Peluso got wind that the Fab Four’s NeoLennon (Ron McNeil) was secretly trying to recruit the Fab Forever’s drummer.

“I took four schnooks who don’t even resemble the Beatles, I take them to the pinnacle of the Tribute world, bigger than the Thai Elvis, even—and they screw me over twice!” Peluso told Tabloid Baby in an exclusive interview. “Some thanks.”

The tug-of-Ringo led to more intrigue, as the Fab Four’s prosthetic-nosed drummer, Rolo (dubbed by Peter Noone “the Polynesian Ringo”--fitting in well next to the groups’s “Mexican George” and "Iranian Paul") had no idea that he was on the verge of becoming the Pete Best of drumming impersonators!

“Greg (Fab Forever’s drummer) is such an honest guy, he called me immediately to say he was being scouted and lured by the competition,” said Peluso. “In a way, it’s a compliment. The Fab Four has been around for more than a decade. And they’re feeling the heat from a project that was just launched in February.”

Peluso says he was moved by his new Ringo’s honesty. “After the way those ungrateful Fab Four midgets screwed me, it’s great to be working with a group that’s as honorable as they are talented.

“And by the way, Ron better not think of stealing our Lennon— Oh wait, if he did, then he’d have to replace himself.”

Expect the competition to get even more fierce. With the success of the Cirque du Beatles show, “Love,” at the Mirage, Beatles acts are hotter than Elvis in Las Vegas.

And after turning down lucrative offers in Branson and Atlantic City, Peluso is about to settle on a very fab deal to place the Fab Forever on the Vegas Strip.

Stay tuned.


Dueling Ringos: Greg and Rolo, with actual schnozzolas.

Fab fact #1: Fab Forever’s Peter George appeared as a John Lennon imitator in the classic comedy film, Vegas Vacation (a Tabloid Baby Top 10).

Fab fact #2: No member of Fab Forever has an ex-porn model estranged wife like the real Paul McCartney does, but they do have a porn star fan in Monica Mendez, who’s been seen at their gigs!

A message from Mickey Spillane

This is the inside cover of one of our copies of I, The Jury.

A long range hello
from one Hammer to another!

This is turning out to be
one hell of a shoot—
you should be on it!

Have a cold Lite Beer on me!

Mickey Spillane


Mickey Spillane was a reason we wrote in the first place. He didn’t get us to drink Miller Lite, though.

Of course the New York Times mentioned he was “scorned by many critics for his artless plots, his reliance on unlikely coincidence and a simplistic understanding of the law," but gave him due and noted that "as the books kept coming, some critics softened toward him. The Times Literary Supplement of London described his 1961 novel, “The Deep,” as “nasty” but nevertheless exhibiting “a genuine narrative grip.”

Mickey knew his audience (his "customers," as he called us) and he could always "dig the fact that there are more salted peanuts consumed than caviar." His outrage at the inadequacies of the criminal justice system was decades ahead of its time.

His knack for writing straight from, and shooting right to the gut, was a tabloid television cornerstone.

Long before we said it in just about the same words, Mickey told the pointy-heads: “I’m not writing for the critics. I’m writing for the public.”

We got to know Mickey back around 1990 when we were were working A Current Affair and sent hot dame Cindy Adams to spend a few days with him out by the ocean in South Carolina. That’s where he died.

"If Mickey Spillane wrote Nancy" (MAD magazine, 1959):

Mickey Spillane: A great writer and a good pal

"How c-could you?" she gasped.

I only had a moment before talking to a corpse, but I got it in.

"It was easy," I said.

-- I, The Jury.

The official end to Disneyland's 50th anniversary

1955: Disneyland becomes a dream come true

July 17, 1955: Disneyland opened its doors to 30,000 special guests one day before it welcomed the public.

Art Linkletter emceed the opening parade, which was broadcast by ABC as part of a 90-minute show.

Actress Irene Dunne christened the riverboat Mark Twain.

"All who come to this happy place — welcome," Walt Disney said in a speech dedicating the $17,500,000 park. "Here age relives fond memories of the past … and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future."

(Most of us agree that Walt Disney's head was not cryogenically frozen in the above tank after all, but who knows? Disneyland is America's last great pop culture mecca for all ages and it's going strong, despite the dull park across the way that will soon make way for Pixarland.

(For topnotch Disneyana facts and memories, read and bookmark the esteemed Jon Crowley's Hollywood Thoughts. Just surf the Net to find fifty-one-derful years of bizarre Disneyland tragedy, and click here to remember a Mouseketeer who took off everything but her Mouse ears...)

Isn't Artie Lange dead already?

"I am a guy who has struggled with every kind of addiction. I love gambling, and it has gotten me into trouble before. I love drugs and booze. The drugs finally had to go, but the booze is still very much in play. And you know I love broads.

"I am definitely not someone who is embarrassed to get a hooker or two.”

That quote is from Artie Lange in a sad story in today’s LA Times Calendar section; sad because it basically takes for granted that the schlubadub comic will eventually go the Chris Farley route, sad because it picks up with his once-public struggles where he left us hanging six months ago, and sad because the 12-step blasting, politically-incorrect and embarrassing honesty was a part of our weekday mornings before he and the rest of the Howard Stern radio team were swept into the Sirius Satellite Protection Program to play out radio’s most straight-talking radio show to a miniscule paying audience.

While chubby Katie Couric jets around the country on a phony baloney meet-and-greet, selected audience tour, blowing out chunks about using the CBS Evening News to help solve world problems (the aged audience would prefer a focus on incontinence problems), there’s Stern’s radio sidekick Artie, pressing the flesh in Vegas, picking up more standup gigs, TV appearances and lowbrow movie roles, living it up, blowing tens of thousands of dollars in casinos, hiring call girls, boozing away memories of his dad the paralyzed roofer, and blathering about hookers while counting down the hours until he winds up on the floor of a high roller’s suite with his pants around his ankles and swollen tongue jutting from his vomit-flecked lips.

And most of his audience is missing Artie’s wild ride to Hell because we don’t pay for radio.

“I love gambling! I love drugs and booze! The drugs finally had to go, but the booze is still very much in play! I love broads! I am definitely not someone who is embarrassed to get a hooker or two!"

Jeez! Knucklehead honesty like that is a jolt off the newspaper page today. Think about it. Only six months ago, it was an everyday morning occurrence.

Sad. When we left off, Artie was holding it together with the first real girlfriend he’s ever had. The article lets us know it didn’t work out:

"You know, I have never been that much in love with a woman before in my life. It is the most adult like I have ever felt in a relationship. We dated for 4 1/2 years. But it has been dying a slow, painful death. I think it might be officially over. It is very hard."

Sad.

Lady Diana, l'ultima foto.

This is the photo of Diana in her final moments that appeared in the Italian Chi magazine and Corriere della Sera newspaper, causing an uproar among British tabloid editors-- the same ones who've spent a decade buying up stories that trash her memory, who this week alone splashed a cameraman's claims of a quickie knee-trembler with the dead Princess, and who, while she was alive, helped make her life a living Hell before she crashed and went to Heaven.

But that's just another lesson in tabloid.

The black and white image, showing the Princess being given oxygen in the Mercedes at the crash site in Paris in August 1997, accompanied an article about French crime writer Jean-Michel Caradec'h, and his new book, Lady Diana: The Criminal Investigation, about the crash which killed Diana and her lover, Dodi Fayed.

We can't see reason for the outrage, beyond the summer news slump (it's not as if another war is breaking out). If they'd dug up nude photos of Diana in a German sex book, we might understand-- but in terms of celebrity death photos, this one is rather subdued.

And respectful.


Diana looks to be at peace.

Her face is intact.

The photo would seem to offer solace to those who worried she'd been in agonizing pain.

It's also history. And evidence.

And it's been published before.

So why don't the rabble rousers investigate what really happened that night in Paris?

Or at least find out where she's really buried.

(Henri Paul wasn't Diana's first dangerous driver. See exclusive video of Diana in a limo as her motorcade runs over tabloid television producer Jimmy Sheehan and a camerawoman in New York City in 1994. Read about the wild scene-- and the mystery of Diana's grave-- in Tabloid Baby.)

Radio After Stern: Drowning Carolla grabs woman

The smudgy fingerprints of radio consultants are all over the flailing Adam Carolla show, the low-rated bomb that was given Howard Stern’s spot in Los Angeles and other markets.

Even a cursory listen in recent days reveals that Carolla has turned his show over to a cohost. And despite the dunderhead jock/frat boy/14-year-old male crowd the show had been playing to-- it's a female cohost.

Teresa Strasser, who replaced Rachel Perry as the show’s “newsgirl” a couple of months back, has been thrust into a leading role, joining Carolla in interviews, providing comedy bits in greatly-expanded “news" segments, speaking up freely throughout and blanding out the offensive broadcast considerably.

Carolla's gotten lots of ink this week for rudely and amateurishly hanging up on a late phone call from book promoter Ann Coulter. But in light of the changes in the show, it's looking as if the stunt was planned to boost his liberal credentials. With his droning free-association monologues and rants having been cut considerably-- and interrupted by a woman-- he's suddenly acting less "American Genius" (or "genious," as it's spelled on one of his site's web pages-- hit an audio link) and more grumpy boyfriend.

Former sidekick, “sports guy” Dave Dameshek, notable for painfully loud, flat routines and a honkingly annoying Midwestern accent, has been given a subsidiary role, similar to Jackie the Jokeman without the jokes. Look for the show's unfunny dead-air "characters" to also take their leave soon.

In wake of the David Lee Roth debacle in New York, the station group is evidently scrambling, and hoping to bring in some female listeners, who Carolla and team have actively discouraged and degraded since the show’s debut.

They also seem to want to cash in on Strasser’s recent national publicity binge as host of the ABC prime time dating show, How To Get The Guy. Too bad for them it was abruptly canceled last week.

The show's website displays further hints to the de-balling of Carolla. Original newsgal Rachel Perry was depicted in a series of kinky underwear and dog collar S&M shots. No sexy shots for Strasser, who gets the standard TV headshots, and the cliched refuge of the postfeminist Yuppie: the childhood photo.

When they start posting snapshots of a nine-year-old Carolla in short pants, you’ll know he’s definitely off to Davidleerothland.