<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, cads]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, cads]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/cads http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/cads <![CDATA[Well-Manicured Claws Come Out In Hollywood Catfight Explosion]]> Sometimes two stories will come along on the very same day and reaffirm one of the oldest Hollywood clichés in history. Namely, that babe magnetism can be yours even if you don't possess looks, charm or gentlemanly ways. Provided, of course, that you have either money or music cred. With that in mind, we'd like to call your attention to two fantasy-worthy catfights brewing today. All kinds of manicured claws are out over the 80-year old borderline polygamist Hugh Hefner and the scraggly rock star Richie Sambora. Why four sets of fake boobs are rubbing up against each other (as Kate Hudson’s baby boy would say) and which contenders are looking like the early “winners” of the ongoing squabbles, after the jump.


If you've had the great pleasure of catching an episode of Denise Richards' star vehicle, It's Complicated, or watching one of her many defensive "I'm A Good Person, Not A Sperm-Stealing Slut" promotional appearances, you may have noticed her quiet insistence on clearing up all those rumors that she stole Bon Jovi guitar hero Richie Sambora from former BFF Heather Locklear. Adding salt to Heather's wound is her assurance that the two weren't even friends — Richards told The View she just met Heather through shared ex and current pay-for-sex repeat offender Charlie Sheen. But Locklear's camp tells the NY Post that the blonde "has phone records that prove Denise was calling Richie while Heather was still married to him...Heather was such a good friend to Denise. She gave Denise clothes and offered her a shoulder to cry on...there are even photos in the press of Heather taking Denise out after she and Charlie split."

Well we're sold. If Heather says she has phone records, says she has pictures, and says she gave Denise actual clothes (since when does the husband get the wife's wardrobe in divorce court?), we don't need further proof. After all, Locklear told us "glamour is all about what you feel inside" in those L'Oreal spots, and truer words were never, ever spoken.

As for Hefner's wild bunch, TMZ reports that producers of everyone's favorite sunny and sparkly show best played on mute, The Girls Next Door, have found themselves in the middle of number one prostitute girl Holly Madison's and trailer park refugee Kendra Wilkinson's battling egos. Though mere (yawn) jealousy is at the center of the fight for Hef's Viagra-bolstered bedroom moves, we're confused about the reported "flying fur" producers are dealing with. Are wigs being torn off? Bikini wax remnants saved and thrust across the pool? We'll have to actually watch the damn thing to demystify that enigma.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

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<![CDATA[Why Good Girls Anne Hathaway And Jennifer Aniston Are Dating Schmucks]]> The NY Daily News makes a bold (and frightening) opening statement in their story published today regarding good girl Anne Hathaway and her very bad boy boyfriend, money-laundering, law suit magnet Raffaello Follieri: "You are who you date." While that statement may seem to be a bit elementary, they make a good point in Anne's case. No matter how charming she is on screen, how little she appears on the pages of tabloids or how impossible we find it to dislike her in any way, the fact remains that she is still with the sleazy mess of a man. And has been for years, despite all the trouble he's had with the law. And she's not the only major bankable goody two shoes actress lessening "her stock" by dating a guy who's far lower on the Hollywood totem pole: the piece also argues that Jennifer Aniston's summer fling with tattooed bed-hopper John Mayer is just as reputation damaging as Hathway's sketchy romance. So why are these beyond eligible bachelorettes digging through the back lot trash for love?

The Bad Boy Appeal: Michelle Pfeiffer sang that she wanted a "rider that's mean" in Grease 2 (yes, we saw it, and are happy to admit it), but she was neither the first nor the last person to echo that sentiment. Try as every girl might, bad boys simply don't lose their luster. Sure, Raffaello might steal money from billionaires, but it's for his lady! The romance! The Stellaahhhhh of it all!

Anne And Jen Are Far More Clever Than We Think: In case you hadn't noticed, Anne has a big summer movie to promote, as does Jennifer. Distracting us bloggers with their law-breaking boyfriends and fembot nipples reminds us they're there. What else are they going to do, slip on cokepants and earn themselves a makeup-enhanced mug shot? Not their style.

John Lennon Was Right After All: Call us romantics, but the truth is that we know nothing about Raffaello and John's in-person charisma. There's this little thing called love, and maybe, just maybe, it's all these particular girls really need. Sigh.

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<![CDATA[Finally, The Secret To Jeremy Piven's Mystifying Success With Women]]>

Among the many questions we would love to ask Emmy-winning beach yogi Jeremy Piven, one of our most pressing would be how he manages to convince so many bitches to hug him. Somehow the Entourage ringleader has earned himself the Womanizer reputation ever since throwing out his bit-part baldie wigs and zooming package-first into the spotlight. And as we’ve reported in the past, it can’t be due to his masterful pick-up lines. But thanks to a photo shot this weekend, we have ourselves an answer. Piven’s success with women predictably has less to do with his bravado and more to do with one very studly prop.

Yes, Piven has been reunited with his beloved busted Bronco. And now we finally understand why he looked so sad when his ride punked out on him at a gas station last month. It's his babe magnet! Piven and his macho ride were spotted helping a crowd of lost sun worshippers in the middle of the highway on Sunday, and even we must admit that Piven does look the slightest bit more at home in a hooptie than in the back of some random town car.

[Photo credits: Splash via Evil Beet]

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<![CDATA[Zach Braff: "Not" A "Cad"]]> "I'm not sure when or why the tabloid angle on me was decided that I am a cad," writes Zach Braff on his MySpace blog. Hmm! Could it have been on or around June 6? Just a guess! He continues to refute "tabloid" claims of his caddishness like so: "I would have much rather it had been that I am secretly a dentist or that I love soup. I am in fact, merely doing what every other single 32 year old man in NYC is doing this summer. I am dating. If you must read that stuff, please don't digest it as fact. It is probably one of the only real shitty things one has to get used to when living in the public eye, but I suppose one of the benefits of this blog is that you can hear it directly from me."

It goes on:

"I haven't had a vacation in 6 years and so I decided to take June and July off. I am having the best summer of my life! I am so happy here!

I'm hanging out with my New York friends, my Jersey boys, my family and loving every single second of it. And yes; I am dating. When we shoot Scrubs I spend every waking hour of my life in an abandoned and haunted hospital. All I can date there are ghosts and they tend to be horrible snugglers. So anyway, blah, blah, blah. Don't believe the hype.

I love it here. I love NYC. I love the people, the arts, I love meeting strangers on the street and talking about the most random things in the world, I love parades where people dress up as mermaids and I really love peach/pomegranate iced tea. I see quite clearly that the east coast is a slightly better fit for me.

That is all for now. I am going to buy a bike.

Peace and love. And as always, thank you for all the many kind things you write to me. You are the best fans a fellow could ever ask for."

Whatever, Zach. You still walked up to, um, someone we know and introduced yourself to her by grabbing her ass. You cad. Make sure to wear a helmet when you're riding your bike!]]>
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