Thursday, June 29, 2006


The pop tart has some mighty interesting Malibu neighbors. James Cameron, director of the blockbuster disaster movie “Titanic” lives next door, as does fabled Australian songbird
Olivia Newton-John ("I Honestly Love You").

Their richest, most powerful neighbor owns the sprawling edifice atop the highest mountain with the most breathtaking views of the blue ocean and lush, green mountains. Even Mel Gibson ("The Passion of the Christ") lives in the shadow of this powerful neighbor in a valley Tudor house.

The omnipotent neighbor is NOT a famous celebrity, but a humble order of Franciscan nuns who reign supreme at the Catholic Church's Malibu retreat.

Of late, their neighbor Britney has gotten into some scrapes with the law. Sheriff’s deputies have become regular visitors to her bejeweled mansion. Seems the Baby Madonna's mothering skills need remedial help.

We’re told the kindly nuns have taken Mother Teresa’s dictum: “I want you to be concerned about your neighbor…If you judge people, you have no time to love them,” to heart. Prayers for Britney and her family are offered regularly.

Never underestimate the power of prayer. Britney’s charity of late is legendary. The best proof is her husband, K-Fed.

After recklessly driving down Pacific Coast Highway with her unbelted baby in her lap, she immediately atoned for her sin by flying to New Orleans to minister to the victims of Hurricane Katrina.

Her Christian charity also extends to her stepkids. Friends report that she’s built a humongous playhouse for the tots in her backyard which could well house half the victims of Hurricane Katrina. And the influence of her nun neighbors from the Order of St. Francis goes even further. She loves animals just as St. Francis of Assisi did. Britney has a very special, loving relationship with them. Her pet pooch receives regal treatment (as does Kevin). Insiders report that his doggie bowl has the SAME rubies and diamonds as Britney’s cell phone.

There are reports that Britney is with child once again.

Ah, Mother Teresa must be smiling down on Britney. The saintly nun believed, “Love begins by taking care of the closest ones, the ones at home.”

With charity for all and malice to none…

We love you, Britney!

(c) 2006, Sistarrs International

Tuesday, June 27, 2006


Who says blondes are dumb? Two Hollywood sexpots are regular bargain hunters at a COSTCO in suburban L.A. As PAM ANDERSON and ANNA NICOLE SMITH jiggle up and down the aisles of the cavernous discount warehouse amassing food supplies in bulk, the staff votes on its favorite silicone siren.

The former Texas stripper with the huge mammaries and a dead, shriveled 89 year old billionaire husband is seen as a self-absorbed and petulant shopper. Anna Nicole is celebrating two recent major victories that could well mean she’ll soon be an ex-Costco shopper.

The U.S. Supreme Court ruled that she can once more go after her late husband’s billions, again locking horns with his oil tycoon son, Pierce Marshall, for a heifer’s share of the estate. Marshall released a statement: “I will continue to fight in the courts. That is a promise she and her lawyers can take to the bank.”

Well, Pierce Marshall dropped dead over the weekend. And we feel a Texas size binge comin’ on in the aisles of Costco, as Anna Nicole celebrates this development. A $482 million dollar payday is at stake. Plus the Merry Widow’s eatin’ for two now.

The Costco staff’s been none too happy with Anna Nicole stumbling around the frozen food aisle or with her insistent, incoherent, imperious requests in the past. So they’re keeping their fingers crossed for the former exotic dancer to get her lucre.

Another famous self-absorbed, petulant and often incoherent shopper was Mary Todd Lincoln, wife of the Civil War President Abraham Lincoln. The only difference between Mary and Anna Nicole is that the First Lady never worked a pole and she ALWAYS shopped retail. Well, actually that’s just a cheap shot. There were a few other distinctions.

Mary Lincoln compulsively shopped for the latest European fashions and went into debt for her new clothes. She hid the bills from her husband. She suffered from bipolar disorder. During one manic period, the First Lady bought 400 pairs of gloves. When her 12-year old son Willie died in the White House, she went deeper into debt compulsively buying mourning clothes. The more her Confederate relatives sided with the South, the more the First Lady drew fire from Lincoln’s constituents. And this led to binge buying of even lower cut dresses (hello, Anna Nicole) and knock offs of French Empress Eugenie’s regal frocks.

Lincoln was really upset about Mary flaunting her d├ęcolletage in front of his cabinet and everyone else. He would’ve gone nuts had he known about the bills, but she squirreled the “past due” notices far away. A Costco card would’ve replaced her lines of credit.

The very modern PAM ANDERSON is the darling of the suburban Costco employees and shoppers seeking super sized fare. Unlike Anna Nicole and Mary Lincoln, a man’s money is rendered inconsequential in Pam’s buying sweepstakes, be it wholesale or retail. Her millions keep racking up (pun intended) by her own hard work and her limitless ingenuity in working the dumb blonde sexpot angle.

She regularly shleps her two rambunctious boys and her huge mammaries through the endless miles of titillating bargains. People at Costco marvel at her maternal devotion, her humility and sociability. She has a smile and a kind word for everyone. All the while, she entices every man on the planet to lust after her, and every woman to secretly wish for her animal magnetism.

This cannot be as easy as Pam Anderson makes it look.

Once we caught her off guard at seven in the morning at a Malibu breakfast place with her two kids & mother. Pam wore no makeup, baggy gray sweats and her hair pulled up with a rubber band. She looked luminous. We kidded her that she was sitting at our favorite table. She immediately offered to move. We chatted about hot flashes and the temperature in the room. Just regular folk.

As Mark Twain once observed: “Choice, not chance, determines destiny. Some great people make other people feel small. But REALLY GREAT people make everyone feel great.”

Who knew that Pamela Anderson AND Muhammed Ali are The Greatest?!

And we hear that The Champ also shops Costco…

(c)2006, Sistarrs International

Monday, June 26, 2006


“She just is sexy. If you put her in a T-shirt or you put her in a bustier, she’s sexy in both. She’s got double D’s! You can’t cover those suckers up!”

That’s Christian Pastor Joe Simpson singing heavenly praises about his blonde bombshell daughter Jessica and her earthly anatomy. The dad/manager continues his devilish display of filial devotion by observing: “Her chest is ahead of her by about two or three feet. It gets there before she does.”

The congregation of the Church of What’s Happening, better known as the world wide web, seems universal in the opinion that Pastor Joe: “…is a creepy Christian who pimps his daughters out.” Dad also manages his other daughter, Ashlee.

Preceding Pastor Joe in the “creepy dad” category by over 70 years was Mario Bello, the smarmy stepfather of the original blonde bombshell, JEAN HARLOW. For those of you who never heard of the ‘30s movie actress, let’s just say without Harlow, there’d be no MARILYN MONROE. Marilyn idolized the ‘30s sex goddess who died young, and kept scrapbooks on her. She mimicked Harlow right down to wearing no underwear, and bleaching the hair on her head AND way down south.

Harlow’s smothering mother and incestuous stepfather managed her career. They siphoned off large amounts of money from her bank account. Even in her movie star heyday, Jean struggled to pay their bills. Only Jean’s death at age 26 severed the umbilical cord between the obsessed, emotional blackmailer mother and “The Baby”.

After molesting her, Harlow’s creepy, braggadocio stepdad pimped her out to his gangster friends, the most notable being Bugsy Siegel. Jean refused the dashing murderer’s advances after Dad brought her to Bugsy’s bedroom. She did, however, date mobster Abe Zwillman, who got her a Cadillac, a diamond bracelet, AND a two-picture deal with Columbia Pictures. The studio head owed Abe a lot of money.

Now Pastor Joe never did any such thing to superstar Jessica. But he did somethin’ that made people scratch their heads and go, “HUH?!!” When Jessica reached 12, Dad gave her a “promise ring”. During the ceremony, he made his daughter promise to stay a virgin until she wed. Dad pledged to be the only man in Jessica’s life until then. He vowed to, “…tell you how beautiful you are every day. Even when you make a mistake, you are someone special. And I am going to be that person until the day you find a man to do that in my place.” HUH?!!

Okay, so it worked. Jessica Simpson remained a virgin until her marriage to singer Nick Lachey. Just ask the producers of their MTV reality show, “Newlyweds”. But Jean Harlow, socialite daughter of a Christian Scientist mother, also stayed a virgin until she married her first husband, a young, handsome heir to a fortune.

There is speculation that the divorces that followed for both virginal sex queens happened in large part because of Daddy Dearest. Nick Lachey often said he couldn’t tell if Pastor Joe liked him. Dad seemed omnipresent in their marriage.

Jessica Simpson & Jean Harlow both had the epithet “dumb blonde” attached to their respective luminous careers as top-selling music artist and Hollywood’s first sexpot superstar.

Jessica asked her husband if the Chicken of the Sea tuna she was eating was chicken or fish! She also believed that buffalo wings came from buffalos! This “dumb blonde” shrewdly parlayed her faux pas squared into a 3 million seller platinum album.

Jean Harlow, the other “dumb blonde”, had a photographic memory. She NEVER ran lines. She’d take a quick look at the script, emerge from her dressing room and do the scenes PERFECTLY, take after take. Jean was also a voracious reader with an historic novel or detective story always in hand.

Both Jessica and Jean’s grandmothers financed their early careers.

Jessica, sang in Pastor Joe’s church choir. Discovered by a Christian record label while at church camp, the singer was elated. But Jessica’s newfound label went belly up before her record could be released. Grandma financed a small pressing. The teen went on to become a hit on the Christian Youth Conference circuit, and then on to pop music fame and seductive carnality.

Jean Harlow’s rich grandfather vowed to disinherit her if she pursued a Hollywood career. So her grandmother secretly sent money from her trust fund. Yes, Grandma Harlow initially bankrolled the Tinseltown dream that became reality.

We can only hope that Jessica does not parallel Jean Harlow’s post-divorce path.

In her quest for a proper Daddy, Harlow married a man twice her age, a Casper Milquetoast lookalike who was known on the MGM lot as Hollywood’s “Little Father Confessor”. Paul Bern, husband No. 2, was only the second man to have sex with Jean. The ferret-like Bern enjoyed a reputation around town as a gentleman and suave intellect.

In reality, the platinum blonde sex goddess had married a man with the penis and testicles of an infant boy. And as if this wasn’t stupendous enough, he was impotent to boot. Two months after their wedding, Bern made an heroic attempt to satisfy his bride and his marital obligation. He appeared in Jean’s bed chamber wearing nothing but a huge, realistic, rubber phallus. Jean burst out laughing at the sight and size of the dildo.

The next evening, Jean Harlow found her husband dead on the bathroom floor, a bullet in his brain.

A grief-stricken Jean turned to promiscuity and alcoholism to punish herself. Disguised, she had anonymous sex with many men in many cities. Once, a salesman in a sleazy San Francisco motel encounter told her she looked a little like Jean Harlow.

But life is one big oxymoron. She remained Hollywood’s most beloved citizen. Jean Harlow’s light shone brightly in Hollywood until the end. Even the spurned Bugsy Siegel showed up at her funeral to pay his respects.

So, Jessica, go slowly into that dating scene. Don’t look for Daddy. Look for the trite. Look for the sweet mystery of life.

And then run like hell from Pastor Joe.

(c)2006, Sistarrs International

Friday, June 09, 2006


Elvis And Wyatt Earp: The Jewish Connection
Can you imagine Elvis with a yarmulke in his back pocket and a Jewish grandmother in the family tree? Or the legendary lawman Wyatt Earp going from the infamous gun battle at the OK Corral to his Orthodox Jewish in-laws for Passover sedar?

Oy vey and pass the grits, IT’S TRUE!

Elvis and Wyatt Earp had much in common. The main women in their lives, Elvis’ mother and Wyatt’s wife of 50 years, shared a Jewish heritage.

The Crime Czar of the Old West and the King of Rock ‘n Roll both had rebellious streaks: sometimes self-destructive, often glorious. Their affectionate connection to Jews, not popular in the Ku Klux Klan infested south of the ‘50s or in the fundamentalist Christian Old West, brought out the greatness in both men.

Elvis loved no one more in this world than his mother, Gladys, whose great grandmother, Nancy Tacket, was Jewish. While his mother was fascinated by her Jewish heritage, she warned the young Elvis to keep it quiet because, “People don’t like Jews.”

As a teenager, Elvis lived in a Jewish area of Memphis, downstairs from a rabbi and his wife. She recalled: “He was about 15 years old and we got along beautifully. He was such a nice boy, such manners. He called my husband Sir Rabbi.”

The young Elvis always carried a yarmulke in his back pocket and had Sabbath dinner once a month with the rabbi and his wife. He loved the matzo ball soup and the challah egg bread. Years later, his beloved longtime black cook, Alvena Roy, would make his favorite meal: kosher peanut butter & banana sandwiches on challah bread.

When our friends, the late Hollywood screenwriters Lois & Arnold Peyser, were on set with Elvis during the filming of their movie, “The Trouble with Girls”, they recalled that a super polite Elvis insisted on calling them “sir” and “ma’am”. The young star was deeply spiritual and had a profound interest in all things Jewish. The Peysers always waxed rhapsodic about Elvis. They loved and respected him, and kept Elvis keepsakes in their living room until they died.

Elvis personally designed his mother’s gravesite, adding a Star of David to her tombstone. She wore her Jewish heritage with pride and her son honored that. Later in life, Elvis learned more about Judaism through his hairdresser, Larry Geller, who also taught Elvis the Hebrew alphabet. Elvis also dabbled in the metaphysical, he loved Edgar Cayce. During the last year of his life (1977), the rock god wore a Chai necklace in honor of the Jewish belief that life is to be treasured. A typical Jewish toast is “L’chayim, to life.”

The Memphis Jewish Welfare League would send a delegation to Graceland each year for contributions. He religiously gave $1,000 to each group. When he was told that the Memphis Hebrew Academy took care of poor Jews and orphans, Elvis made out a check,the equivalent in today’s dollars: a million bucks! The Academy thought he made a mistake. “I didn’t make a mistake. I know what I’m doing,” Elvis said softly.

Wyatt Earp’s Jewish connection led to his burial not on Boot Hill in Tombstone, as befits an Old West legend, but in an exclusive Jewish cemetery outside San Francisco. Seems the hard living lawman fell just as hard for a nice Jewish girl from Brooklyn named Josie Marcus. She also happened to be a rebellious, gorgeous actress.

Her Orthodox Jewish parents, like Elvis’ rabbi neighbor in Memphis, also observed the Friday night Sabbath by lighting shabbus candles and saying Hebrew prayers. The famous frontier legend lived with his Jewish-in-laws for awhile and found it “warm and relaxing.”

Though Elvis & Wyatt Earp enjoyed a kingly status in their chosen professions, unfortunately they were also Kings of Denial in their private lives.

Elvis, a prescription drug addict, went on a whim to the Nixon White House in 1970 LOADED in a couple of ways. The King told the President he wanted to be a part of the war on drugs and insisted on Federal Agent credentials. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t give up for one of those,” Elvis once said. The Secret Service insisted that he and his posse first check their guns at the door. Then the President of the United States gave the most famous druggie in the world a badge designating him an officer of the Federal Drug Enforcement Bureau. Elvis rocked Nixon’s world with a Colt .45, now on display at the Presidential Library.

Elvis had hundreds of honorary law enforcement badges and guns in a private collection at Graceland. His shooting up TV sets when he disagreed with a program is so legendary that one of the shattered TVs is on exhibit in a Tennessee museum. His medicine chest was an at-home superstore pharmacy containing thousands of prescribed pills from Demerol to Percodan to Oxycodine.

Wyatt, not to be outdone by Elvis, also liked badges and guns and mind-altering substances. Deputy Earp pistol-whipped armed cowboys BEFORE they could contest the law against carrying firearms in town. The Buntline Special, a long barreled gun, was made expressly for him. Like Elvis, he knew first hand about drug addiction. His second “wife”, an ex-prostitute named Mattie Blaylock, overdosed after a night of booze and an opium based drug, laudanum, dead at 38.

Though never a full sheriff or marshal in Tombstone or Dodge City or anywhere else, Earp managed to get himself badges through deputization and other means to make his mark as an extraordinary lawman.

During this time, Wyatt’s boozing often got him in trouble. During his stints as a lawman (1870-90), Wyatt Earp was arrested as a horse thief and jumped bail. He once lived in a whorehouse and again found himself under arrest. As a private citizen, he was fined $l for slapping a muscular hooker named Frankie.

In a parallel to Elvis’ vigilante anti-drug crusade, the equally hypocritical Earp became an expert on drunks and their unlawful, loutish behavior in the prairie towns of the Old West. All the while he owned many of the saloons where the cowboys got plastered. Marshal Earp’s coterie of hired barroom cuties plied them with drinks and promises of x-rated things to come.

Still, only Wyatt could bring peace and earn the respect of the drunken, armed cowboys letting off steam after a long, hard cattle drive. The unchecked havoc stopped when the new sheriff in town, the ersatz Earp, showed up.

Just as Elvis had his Memphis Mafia, who shared karate kicks and shot TVs stone cold dead, Earp had his own Mob posse: Doc Holliday, a dentist who spent more time boozing and gambling than tickling the ivories, Bat Masterson, a lawman colleague from Dodge City, who ended up a sports columnist and boxing promoter in New York, and Wyatt’s three brothers. They loved gambling, drinking, and occasional gunplay. Wyatt Earp and his buddies shot it out with the Clantons at the famous OK Corral gunfight and because of this historic piece of rough housing, became part of Old West folklore.

His wife Josie heard the shots at the OK Corral and wondered if Wyatt Earp had met a violent end.

“I almost swooned when I saw Wyatt’s tall figure very much alive. Can you imagine my real relief at seeing my love alive,” she sighed.

Josie stayed with Wyatt Earp for fifty years as his wife, though no marriage certificate is on record anywhere. Throughout their years together, they moved around the country: On the run from the law. Relocating to new silver and gold mining boomtowns to invest in mines and real estate. Operating saloons and gambling parlors from Alaska to Idaho.

Finally, Marshal Earp & his Jewish bride moved to southern California in the ‘20s, where they lived on their spoils from gambling and real estate speculation. Josie insured Wyatt’s legendary status in the annals of Old West folklore by writing a Hollywood screenplay. Tinseltown didn’t bite, but a journalist used it to write a bestselling biography, and the rest is history. Wyatt never had the Hollywood career he hoped for, but served as a technical advisor on silent Westerns. Elvis, on the other hand, had an enduring, if undistinguished, movie career.

Josie buried her beloved Wyatt in her family’s plot in the Jewish cemetery in Colma. The Old West lawman lies in eternal peace amid Goldbergs, Schwartzes and Weinsteins, and tombstones with Stars of David and menorahs etched on them.

Three headstones adorn Wyatt’s burial plot: his, Josie’s and a guy named Max Weiss. Given Wyatt’s proclivity for gambling, we can only guess that Max must’ve been his bookie. It’s heartwarming to see all the cowboys and rednecks that now make the pilgrimage to visit Marshal Earp at his Jewish necropolis.

The dueling tales of Elvis and Wyatt Earp show us that everything and everybody and everyplace in every era are connected by the gossamer strands of light on the cosmic golden web. Elvis and the Old West lawman embraced ALL people and knew the most important law of all. We’re all related and we’re all in this together.

If you still need proof, consider this: The energy of white light contains all the colors of the spectrum within it. When we shine light through a prism, all the colors of the rainbow are revealed. When we pass the colors of the rainbow back through the prism, we get white light.

Yes, we are all related and we are all one in this Technicolor world.

(c)2006, Sistarrs International
Excerpt from “The 12 Spiritual Secrets of Beverly Hills”

(c)1999. 2006, the Starr Sisters