When William Shatner isn’t busy flipping off J.J. Abrams or eating dessert with Henry Rollins, the Shat’s been cracking the whip upon a ghostwriter writing his autobiography. Naturally, he’s dishing a few lurid details:

WOMEN who slept with William Shatner sometimes had an out-of-this-world fantasy - they’d pretend they were being beamed up to ecstasy by the commander of the Starship Enterprise. The “Star Trek” legend tells Page Six his partners would dramatically gasp, “So, this is what it’s like to be in bed with Captain Kirk!” Shatner - whose autobiography, “Up Till Now,” hits stores today - laughed, “You can’t imagine how much of a downer that is in every sense of the word.”

Well, this could easily have been worse. I can imagine that poor Brent Spiner has suffered through far too many references to being “anatomically correct,” or, in the case of a really freaky chick, Spiner may have been forced to endure the following: “If the warp drive fails to activate, the results could be… unfortunate.” Trekkies are weird.

For quite some time, I have resisted acknowledging the fact that John Mayer, manwhore extraordinaire, is slightly amusing. Obviously, he should never ditch the music career for stand-up comedy, for his decision to actually write a douchebag dissertation makes one wonder about his social filter, or lack thereof. Then again, John’s recent fixations upon perfectly awful hair have sort of make me snicker. Perhaps the guy just lacks some fine tuning of his comedic timing, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit, in which case, I join Mr. Atoz in saying: Rock on, John Mayer.

Seriously, this t-shirt just does it. The little douchebag is growing on me.

Imagery: Dlisted

Beyond all the true international strife in our world, a lesser series of battles — those of sexual prowess — have been waged between various world leaders. So, after French president Nicolas Sarkozy’s recent conquest — that is, the courtship and marriage of aged supermodel Carla Bruni — dark horse Vladimir Putin has been a very, very bad boy. It seems that the Russian President has taken an extreme interest in a certain 24-year old young lady — model/waitress/gymnast Alina Kabaeva — who is well known for her “extreme flexibility” (see video) and celebrated performances “on the carpet.” Suddenly, Miss Kabaeva has been “promoted to deputy head of the Duma’s committee on youth affairs” even though she has little training or experience in governmental affairs. Hem hem.

Recently, a Moscow newspaper, Moscovski Korrespondent, reported that Mr. Putin’s marriage had ended in a secret divorce in February of this year. Since then, Putin has been spotted getting frisky with Miss Kabaeva in a Moscow restaurant. Rumours persist that Putin plans on marrying the young lady after he steps down from his office in June.

55-year-old Mr Putin seemed to enjoy playing up the image of a ladies’ man. Despite his denials, some commentators wondered whether the rumoured link with the gymnast might explain why Mr Putin suddenly posed topless for the cameras on a Siberian fishing holiday last summer. While his muscled and hairless torso were a particular hit among female and gay voters, perhaps he was simply trying to impress his new mistress.

The gymnast is one of a number of young and beautiful Russian dancers and athletes who, under Mr Putin’s patronage, have lately become deputies in the Duma - Russia’s lower parliament. Known as Putinskie Krasotki - “Putin’s Babes” - they were brought in with the cynical but successful aim of “sexing up” his United Russia party. One Russian spin-doctor boasted at the time of their arrival in the Duma: “We are now definitely ahead of all parties in terms of ladies with sex appeal among our MPs. These young women are full of energy and eagerness to become serious law-makers.”

Yeah, right. Naturally, the true point has been missed here, as usual. How could Vladimir Poontang do this to poor George?

(Inspector Flea was the tipster of this little gem. In my fit of hysterical laughter, I forgot to mention my source when I passed it on to Sondra, who totally ran with it with pure, unadulterated abandon. Good plan.)

You know, I try not to speculate too much on people’s relationships or lack thereof. So, when Brittany Murphy hopped into a quickie marriage with screenwriter Simon Monjack, I took the perspective that the resultant contempt was a bit cruel. However, this all changed when these two decided to publicly make out while attending the launch of a Blumarine shop in Florida. We’re talking sheer class, people.

Was this display of unwarranted affection really necessary? I mean, when you evoke Cronenberg, it should either be in a bona fide horror film or for humourous effect when talking about Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Seriously, once you put your sex life on the red carpet, it’s fair game for ridicule. Sorry, folks. I’ve gone to the dark side. From here on out, it’s just gonna be wall-to-fucking-wall, semi-naked junkies.

Source

Mickey Rourke thinks that the city of Miami, Florida loves him, but that thought won’t last too much longer:

“I’m friends with most cops in the city and they told me the guy who got me isn’t even liked by his colleagues. He’s a 400-pound fuck unfit for duty.” - Mickey Rourke

Not so bright, that Mickey.

Source: Popbitch

Remember Knut, the terrifyingly adorable polar bear cub who won German hearts almost as effortlessly as Der Fuehrer? Well, Knut isn’t a cub anymore, and like many former child stars, his transition to adulthood is proving to be a bit rocky. In fact, Knut’s keeper describes the husky young carnivore as “a publicity-addicted psycho” whose mental health is deteriorating by the day. According to keeper Markus Roebke:

We are not allowed to have contact with him any more and have received letters that if we breach this order our jobs are on the line. He is too unpredictable to play with now. He is addicted to the whole show, the human adulation. It is not healthy. He actually cries out or whimpers if he sees that there is not a spectator outside his enclosure ready to ooh and aah at him.

Presumably it’s just a matter of time before Knut learns to get the crowd’s attention by flashing his genitals at them. Then, a few months after that, comes the head-shaving. Eventually he might regain a tiny scrap of his dignity by making a guest appearance on How I Met Your Mother, but I wouldn’t count on it. These comparisons can only be pushed so far.

For the last few days Fox, CNN, and much of the internet have been all Spitzer, all the time. But here at Agent Bedhead, we haven’t had much to say about the soon-to-be-ex-governor’s boogie nights. Not that we have any objection to kicking a guy when he’s down, mind you. But the “shooting fish in a barrel” aspect of the story takes all the fun out of the kicking. Still, just to get into the spirit of things, here’s a post on the tawdry practice of assigning a dollar value to women like they were common household appliances.

It’s common knowledge that Governor Spitzer was ready to shell out $5,000 for the services of “Kristen,” despite the fact she doesn’t really match the high-priced call girl fantasy. Of course, “fantasy” is the operative word here. More realistic is the $40,100
price tag for a date with Scarlett Johansson, which almost certainly will not end with a reverse cowgirl. (Actually, the money’s going to charity, but that’s still a lot to pay for a so-so meal and conversation with someone you’ve never met.)

At the low end of the celebrity scale we have the likes of Lindsay Lohan and Eva Longoria, whom you can have your way with for a low, low $19.95. Not the real Lindsay, of course—that would take a couple of stout rails and many, many Long Island iced teas, in addition to the $19.95—but a convincing latex imitation. (The link here is to Jezebel. If you follow Jezebel’s links to the actual NSFW website, you have no one but yourself to blame.) For twenty bucks, you can do awful, awful things to inflatable versions of La Lohan, Longoria, JLo, or Sarah Jessica Parker—wait a minute. Look, Ms. Parker is a witty, charming person who can probably run the Kentucky Derby in two minutes flat, but who the hell wants to rut away at an inflatable beach toy shaped like Carrie Bradshaw? Prostitution and power fantasies really can make for strange bedfellows.

Gerard Butler is nothing if not an incredibly diverse actor. He is also a lawyer, if that tells you anything at all about his duplicity. Yet I digress.

In just the past few years, Butler has taken up the title role in The Phantom of the Opera as well as the bloodthirsty King Leonidas in 300, a man who unwittingly loves a tranny in P.S. I Love You, a guinea pig for Guy Ritchie in RocknRolla, and an unfortunate love interest of Katherine Heigl in The Ugly Truth. Also, Gerard has stepped rather (un)enthusiastically into the adventure of Nim’s Island, as you can see in the above and below photos. I’m not quite sure what he’s doing to Jodie Foster, but she’d be crazy not to like it.

Seriously, we get it dude — you have range — especially when you play a character with an Irish brogue while unashamedly maintaining your obvious Scottish burr. Not that I, uh, possessed the willpower to bitch too much about it while watching you prance around in shamrock-adorned boxer shorts with suspenders.

Finally, Gerard Butler “has launched the production shingle Evil Twins with his longtime manager, Alan Siegel.” His first role?

Their first project is the psychological thriller Law Abiding Citizen, which the duo are producing for Mark Gill, Neil Sacker and Robert Katz’s the Film Department. Butler will star as a successful assistant D.A. who finds himself at the center of a vigilante plot hatched by a traumatized victim of the legal system.

It sounds like someone might finally be using their legal education for a bona fide purpose. Maybe I should look into that sort of thing.

Images: Gerard-Butler.net