Christina Aguilera attended a news conference in Shanghai yesterday in an effort to convince the Chinese to buy her latest CD – a plan that might have actually worked had she simply kept her enormous breasts under wraps and just let her bright red lipstick do the talking. Because while the Chinese government absolutely adores the color red, they absolutely do not adore the sight on their citizens parading around with raging hard-ons. It is, after all, not America.

Hopefully though, these poor sexually charged souls were not executed for their indiscretions and were allowed to use their hard-earned money to buy her new CD instead of pointless things like birth control. Because that would just be awesome for the world. And for Meg Ryan since a bigger selection is always better.

Editor’s Note: Hey Christina, could you hold that mic a little lower so we can hear what your breasts have to say? Ah, it mustn’t be working. Here, try my penis.

Don’t you love it when Velma sneaks into Daphne’s closet and tries on all her clothes? [Britney Spears Continues Her One-Woman Reign Of Fashion Terror]

Brooke Hogan’s lucky that acid spill only hit her jeans and face. [The Skinny Website]

Is that Mark Twain’s autograph I see just above Demi Moore’s nipple? [Jordan Is Your Homeboy]

Boo! Eddie Murphy is the father of Scary Spice’s baby and the drinker of a whole lot of alcohol. [Buzznet]

Maybe Posh can buy a sandwich now with all her winnings. [Celebrity Nation]

George Clooney to protest with the Italians by burning every last fucking house to the ground and eating spaghetti. [The Evil Beet]

John Travolta’s not gay, but his toupee is. [Dlisted]

Jenna Jameson has got to be the most erotic-looking corpse I have ever seen. Sorry, Grandma. [Celebridiot]

If Paris Hilton is beneath her, then how the hell does Barbara Walters explain Star Jones and Elisabeth Hasselbeck? [In Case You Didn't Know]

And finally, some extra sexy video of Tara Reid making out with some random guy in the back of a car. Hey random guy, you’ve got balls of steel, man. Or a syphillis-infected brain.

During a performance last week at Stereo, Mandy Moore gave her audience an extra special treat by forgetting the words to her hit single “Candy” and then reading them off her Blackberry.

From Page Six:

Page Six recently reported that words to some of her new album’s songs took aim at her ex, Zach Braff. When we asked about the guys young Hollywood women should avoid, she said, “I’d never name names . . . but I’d say stay away from anyone who is too insecure or self-involved.”

This reminds me of the time I started to write something about Mandy Moore, but then completely forgot who she was because all her movies suck and I don’t like fat chicks. I forget exactly what happened after that, but I’m pretty sure I ended up posting the one-sheet for her new film and then told everyone to go see it.

Editor’s Note: For those of you who will no doubt give me shit for referring to Mandy Moore as a “fat chick”, I ask you to open your hearts and admit that she at least has fat potential. This way you won’t have to waste your time berating me in the comments section below, and I won’t have to waste my time trying to figure out why the hell you would waste your time defending a celebrity who would sooner eat you than learn the lyrics to her own fucking songs to entertain you.

You may find this hard to believe, but what you are looking at right now is a picture of Jennifer Aniston leaving a Malibu restaurant with friend Courteney Cox. Amazing, isn’t it? At first glance, it’s like there’s nothing there and then bam! – you realize that you’re not wearing your glasses and that Jennifer Aniston is the worst hider ever.*

Of course, given Jenn’s love for the paparazzi, there’s a very good chance she’s not hiding at all. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she wrapped herself in that tablecloth, just so she could play judge and hand down sentences of love and understanding to everyone who took her picture. That totally sounds like her.

Or maybe this picture was taken just moments before she draped that tablecloth over her head and entertained everyone with her “I’m the ghost of a vengeful black man” routine. “Oooooo….slave reparations….ooooooo….forty acres and a mule…..ooooo….Rent Norbit! It was hilarious! Really!….ooooo…..In stores now!….ooooo!” Yeah, that totally sounds like her too.

*Unlike Courteney Cox, of course. Don’t even bother looking for her in this picture; she’s an expert hider with the power of coke-induced anorexia on her side.

Editor’s Note: I think I’m going to print out this picture and send it to Charlton Heston. That way he can piss his pants out of fear instead of it just being Monday.

In an effort to destroy what’s left of Larry King’s credibility [and carotid artery], Paris Hilton will sit down with the cable news host this Wednesday –- the day after her release from pretty pretty princess jail –- for an hour-long live interview that I’m sure will only make us love her more.

From Los Angeles Times:

In a statement released through a spokesman this afternoon, Hilton said: “I am thrilled that Larry King has asked me to appear on his program to discuss my experience in jail, what I have learned, how I have grown and anything else he wants to talk about.

“Larry King is not only a world-renowned journalist, but a true American icon. It will be an honor to do his show.”

Now I’m no doctor, or even one of Larry King’s former lovers, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Larry probably doesn’t have a bad case of herpes like, say, Paris Hilton does. And if that’s the case, I sure hope Larry takes at least a few precautions during this interview since I would hate to see him contract herpes and then pass them on to God when he dies next month.

Personally, I think his best line of defense here is to simply borrow one of those space suits from NASA and then convince Paris to wear it. That way Larry can still have sex with his wife without explaining and Paris can pretend she’s a real-live astronaut who’s admired by all. And then, when the viewers begin to call in and tell her she’s not, she can drown in a helmet of her own tears and we can all share a good laugh. With God. I think he’d like that.

Editor’s Note: Here’s that picture of Paris being taken back to jail after her house arrest. You know, in case you need to practice laughing before Wednesday.