
S ince Jay-Z has nothing but leisure on his diamond-crusted hands, he’s going to become an NBA agent.
The rapper is getting rid of his 1 percent ownership share in the Brooklyn Nets in order to receive his certification as an agent.
In between wiping his baby Blue’s ass, bouncing on Beyonce’s, producing beats, singing hits, designing Rocawear threads, CEO-ing Roc-A-Fella Records, and running daily blunts to Biggie and Tupac in Honey Boo Boo’s tree house, the man is now hitting the basketball recruiting trail.
Behold, top prospects and league stars: What the man touches, turns to gold. Fivefold.
Such perks for mustache-less18-year-old dudes declaring for the NBA draft:
“Hi, I’d like to order two Jay-Zs — one Z as my ballin’ agent and one Z to bang out my sweet beats.”
Those boys can have 99 problems, but with their new agent manbitch ain’t one.
Cruisin’ for a bruisin’
Remember when Katie Holmes was married to that Tom Cruise chick?
Well he “did not expect” to get divorced, he told some German TV network.
“To be 50 and have experiences and think you have everything under control, and then it hits you — that’s what life is,” said Cruise. “Life is tragicomic. You need a certain sense of humor.”
A source told People magazine that Holmes’ family and friends helped orchestrate her quick exit in 2012 so she could escape his Scientology claws. (They were all sorts of up in her mom jeans.)
Sweet sassy molassy, Xenu, is that a spaceship? I think L. Ron Hubbard is throwing aliens into that volcano over yonder. (Scientology origins go something like that…)
Carry on.
Cruise will survive. He’s taking refuge in John Travolta’s closet.
Lohan talks rehab
Lindsay Lohan said to David Letterman Tuesday night that her court-ordered rehab will be a “blessing.”
“To be honest, I’m happiest when I’m working — the healthiest,” she said.
That’s not what it says in the men’s room. Spray that thing for bugs.
Lohan dodged questions about what kind of treatment she’ll receive and what substance she’ll be representing in the three-month lockdown.
I think she’ll be pimping the Miss Cocaine sash.
Wedded bliss
Two piss-poor Canadian “musicians” and an ego walk into a radio station.
The ego says: So Avril Lavigne and Chad Kroeger, you excited to get hitched?
(I take it nobody’s yet informed Lavigne that Kroeger’s the lead singer of Nickelback. Awkward.)
On-Air with Ryan Seacrest Tuesday, Avril says: “I’m going to take the lyrics from the sheet music from one of our songs and wrap it around the wedding cake.”
That’s special. Nickelback prose mixed with teenage angst. It’s like Andrea Bocelli is whispering sweet tenors into my ear.
Chad says: My thumb’s up my butt. When can I croon watered-down rock?