My father sends me an email about four times a year. He has fully embraced texting, oddly enough, but this newfangled Internet contraption is still not really his thing. On the other hand, my mother belongs to like 8000 Google groups and probably sends more emails daily than I do, but she refuses to use text messaging. (”Don’t send me one of those things! It costs money!”) Parents are really a laugh a minute.

The point is, when I see an email from my father, I always know it’s going to be good, and the one I got today was no exception. It came in with the subject line “How Pumpkin Pies Are Made” and the message contained only this photo. I laughed so hard; I had to share. It’s the best pumpkin ever. (Although have you seen my Buck-Toothed Hick pumpkin? It’s a close second.)

We’re taking a break from regular posting around here until the weekend. There will be a few posts here and there, but we’re all going to take time to enjoy the holiday with our loved ones. I am actually going to attempt to cook tomorrow, and also my dog has a Santa costume (with a hat!), so, at the very least, there will be funny photos. Enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday, and try not to think about this photo when you’re eating pumpkin pie!

I genuinely didn’t think it was possible. Literally the way I found it was by obsessively going through like 50 photos of her at the press call for her new movie, Brothers, thinking to myself, “I wonder if any of these photos of her are bad. Can Natalie Portman take a bad photo? It may not be physically possible.” And then I stumbled on this one and I was like, “Oh, okay, that’s a kind of bad photo.” Don’t worry, though, all the rest of them in the gallery below are freakin’ perfect. Sigh.

Here it is, kids! After watching the entire thing, I’m mostly disappointed that nobody simulated oral sex.

In seriousness, though, this is going to be a rough and fascinating road. I’ve heard the whole album — I’ve been listening to it for a week, actually — and it’s brilliant. But this country’s never really had an openly gay pop star, and Adam is making calculated choices to push the door wide open; he’s being a flamboyant openly gay pop star, so that people can come in later and be milder openly gay pop stars and take considerably less heat for it. He’s going to make unpopular and perhaps even uncouth decisions, and he’s going to take unending amounts of shit for it, and it’s going to be a rocky road. Thus far — and it’s early still — he’s maneuvered through it with a lot of grace. But make no mistake about it — he’s made a conscious decision to put himself way, way out there as a target, so this country can exhaust its “righteous” ammo on him and, in the future, be more comfortable with a gay pop star who, perhaps, doesn’t thrust his backup dancer’s face against his penis on live national television. It takes a hell of a lot of guts to do that, to put yourself out there as that person and to take that heat day in and day out, but I have a feeling it will be worth it in the end. Thank you, Adam.

Sorry, y’all, I didn’t mean for this to be J&K day around here, but I posted on my Twitter and my Facebook about my thoughts when I finally watched (part of) the Jon & Kate Plus Eight finale from Monday night, and I got a billion responses like “You better put that clip on your website!” So, here it is.

I mean, is it slander to say Jon Gosselin is on a shitload of cocaine during this interview when it’s clearly the truth? It would be funny if it weren’t so damn sad. I like the part around 4:15 where he’s twitching and rambling about how he stupidly moved to the Upper West Side when everyone knows the best blow is on the Lower East Side, and that’s a mistake he certainly won’t make again. But it’s nice that he can escape to his “country house.” I get that he and TLC are at war right now, but that’s not a very good reason to show up to his final interview snowplowed out of his gourd. That’s just like biting off your nose to spite your face. He’s gonna have to live with this for the rest of his life, and so are his children.

The whole thing is totally hilarious and worth a viewing if you can just push out of your mind the reality that this man is a father of eight.

Jon Gosselin is about to be a free man, but don’t let Octomom Nadya Suleman know!  She’s already confessed that she’s got a little crush on the father of many, but this newest revelation should turn your blood cold.

Octomom is open to the idea of having more kids.  Fourteen kids is not enough for this clown car.   When asked about future babies, the psycho replied “If I wanted to do it the traditional way and get married.  That’s like another chapter.”  Beyond the fact that Suleman would ever agree to being pregnant again, I cannot believe that she is publicly admitting this.  Also, who is the man that would take on this brood?

If you think you can tolerate it, watch the video of her discussing, gulp, more kids:  here.

Speaking of turkeys, I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I’m pretty sure you’ll all be enjoying the gifted Molls over the next couple of days and I’ll be back for more abuse love on Monday.  I’m thankful for you.

“What if I had a booth on the street and I said, ‘Attention, everybody who hates me: If you have a problem with me, I’m ready to hear your gripes! I will be outside the Barneys store on 60th Street from two to four this afternoon. I will not be speaking to fans. I will only be speaking to people who do not like me. Come out and let me have it. I will not speak back.’ 

“How many people do you think would be standing there? I’m talking about people getting the chance to tell me directly, ‘I think you’re a douchebag.’ You know how many people would do it? Ze-ro. You know what they’d do? They’d walk up and say, ‘I’m just messin’ with ya.’ And you know what I’d say? I’d say, ‘You’re a douchebag!’”

John Mayer in a Details interview, really just tempting me.  Please let this booth be built, John.  I will be first in line to prove your little theory wrong.  Who’s with me?

Adam Lambert is doing it right.  Everyone is still talking about his controversial American Music Awards performance.  It was expected that all the citizens that bitch every time a nipple is shown on TV would be outraged, but even Good Morning America gave him the ax.  And when there is a scandal, people buy.

Though Adam was scheduled to perform on the morning news show today, his appearance was promptly canceled following Sunday night’s display.  Per an ABC spokesperson, “Given his controversial American Music Awards performance, we were concerned about airing a similar concert so early in the morning.”  Now, I don’t know what GMA execs were expecting, but obviously they haven’t listened to the lyrics of “For Your Entertainment.”  Let’s review:

So hot
Out the box
Can we pick up the pace?
Turn it up,
Heat it up
I need to be entertained
Push the limit
Are you with it?
Baby, don’t be afraid
I’ma hurt ‘ya real good, baby

Let’s go
It’s my show
Baby, do what I say
Don’t trip off the glitz
That I’m gonna display
I told ya
I’ma hold ya down until you’re amazed
Give it to ya ’til your screaming my name

No escaping when I start
Once I’m in I own your heart
There’s no way you’ll ring the alarm
So hold on until it’s over

Oh, do you know what you got into?
Can you handle what I’m ’bout to do?
‘Cause it’s about to get rough for you
I’m here for your entertainment

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet
‘Ya fallen angel swept ya off ya feet
Well I’m about to turn up the heat
I’m here for your entertainment

It’s alright
You’ll be fine
Baby, I’m in control
Take the pain
Take the pleasure
I’m the master of both
Close your eyes
Not your mind
Let me into your soul
I’ma work ya ’til your totally blown

No escaping when I start
Once I’m in I own your heart
There’s no way ‘ta ring the alarm
So hold on until it’s over

Oh, do you know what you got into?
Can you handle what I’m ’bout to do?
‘Cause it’s about to get rough for you
I’m here for your entertainment

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet
‘Ya fallen angel swept ya off your feet
Well I’m about to turn up the heat
I’m here for your entertainment

Oh oh…mmmm
Entertainment…
Oh oh…..Oh entertainment…
I’m here for your entertainment…

Oooohhh…..
Do you like what you see?
Wooooaaaahhhh……
Let me entertain ya ’till you screeaaam

Oh, do you know what you got into?
Can you handle what I’m ’bout to do?
‘Cause it’s about to get rough for you
I’m here for your entertainment

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet (bet ya thought)
‘Ya fallen angel swept ya off your feet
Well I’m about to turn up the heat (turn up the heat)
I’m here for your entertainment

Now that Tila Tequila is the fame whore of the day, you’re missing the flannel shirt and greasy hair analysis of Leggings (Lindsay), aren’t you?  I’ll see what I can do to hook you up with some Linds pics (her dad seems to have run out of recorded phone calls for now), but in the meantime we have to talk about Tila Tequila’s sex tape.

A clip of Tila “in a very compromising adult position with a naked man” has surfaced on the Internet and the “television personality” — I never know what to call her because I can’t ascertain the source of her fame — isn’t too happy about it.  I braved the journey and headed over to the website that has the video and can tell you that it’s a clip of Tila giving some dude a hand/blow job.  Do you see the investigative risks I take on your behalf?

Despite Tila’s intentional hours-long naked video stream that aired last week, she’s feeling much more modest today and may even sue the culprit(s).  According to her very-busy as of late attorney, “A police report has been filed for Tila’s stolen laptop computer which contained that specific clip. I am currently in the process of sending a cease and desist letter and a notice of intent to sue if it’s not removed.”

Kendra Wilkinson posted a picture of her very pregnant self on her blog.  Why do people insist on torturing their animals by putting them in Santa apparel?  In human terms, I guess it’s similar to those folks who Scotch tape a bow on their bald-skulled babies.

Anyway, according to Kendra, her dogs Rascal and Martini are dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Claws.  Groan.  Wimper.  Seriously.

I wonder if Kendra used to be a hooker.  Some ex-Hollywood madam named Michelle Braun — she jokingly referred to herself as “like Jesus, only prettier” — recently decided to flirt with the completely obvious and announce that many of Hugh Hefner’s girlfriends and Playmates were actually high-paid escorts.  HH is one hot piece of ass and I find it hard to believe that he didn’t land these 20 year olds with his own salty charm.

If Wilkinson was once a call girl however, she should be nervous.  Braun hasn’t officially named names yet, but said of one unattached television personality “If I dropped his name to Page Six, I certainly wouldn’t be his Idol.”  Well, it sure as hell isn’t Ryan Seacrest racking up charges with Dial-A-(female)Whore, so she’s clearly talking about Simon.  This pimpette isn’t exactly subtle.

Page Six printed this little gem this morning.  It was the equivalent of getting an extra sugar cube in my tea.  God, I hope it’s true:

Miley Cyrus is famous, but there are still some people out there who’ve never heard of “Hannah Montana.” When Cyrus and a friend came into the Pop Burger on East 58th Street and ordered, the counter manager asked for her name to mark the order. She snapped back, “Are you serious? You don’t recognize me? I’m Miley Cyrus.” The counterman still had no clue who she was, ran her credit card with her name on it and shrugged, “That’s nice for you. Here is your order. Have a good day.”

I know, I know … I like Miley now that I’ve learned that she hates the Twilight hype, but can you imagine being 17 — yesterday was Miley’s birthday which means 364 more days before I can unleash my full-strength venom  – and being astounded that the burger clerk doesn’t recognize you?  I must, must, must meet this cashier!  He needs his own line of jeans or a television series or something.  Get this man a book deal!

There’s no doubt in my mind that this actually happened, but isn’t Miley a little short in the tooth for all this “Don’t You Know Who I Am?”-ing?  She really needs to save this behavior for a little bit later in life … like, post-rehab and pre-Playboy spread.

Poor Paula Deen!  She was doing a good deed, helping out with Atlanta’s Hosea Feed the Hungry charity when — Bam!  Deen got thwacked in the head with a ham.

Now that a pig has officially flown (albeit into the face of a Food Network personality), I am lamenting yet another hyperbole I can no longer use.  See how I can make anything about me?

Okay, put down that stick of butter that you’ve anxiously been gnawing on; Paula is fine.  ”I thought it busted my lip, but it didn’t.  Ran head on to a hog.”

Paula Deen:  Swine Flew survivor.

Her so-called acting career may be largely a thing of the past, but at least her body is bangin’. Claire Danes and some ass-kicking thighs showed up to the NYC screening of her new film Me and Orson Welles last night, and I have to admit this is the best I’ve seen her look in years. To be frank, I liked her best with bright orange hair and a be-flanneled, eyeliner-free Jordan Catalano, but I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that we will never again get Jared Leto out of makeup.

Also there: Lydia Hearst, who needs sunshine and a cookie, stat. Really she looks like she just stumbled off the set of New Moon, with Dakota Fanning possibly being trafficked inside her skirt.

I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you guys that I saw New Moon last night and hated it. Chris Weitz was absolutely the wrong director — they never should have let Catherine Hardwicke go — and, despite my undying love for Taylor Lautner, I understand now why they wanted to replace him. Watching him play “angry werewolf” was excruciating. My date — who had never heard of Twilight before I asked him to take me — emailed me this morning implying that I need to put out in the immediate future in exchange for making him go to the “naked boy wolf movie.” It was one of those firmly worded “you owe me” emails. And he’s right.

Lastly, Zac Efron, who really ought to talk to his optometrist about getting new contacts that won’t irritate his eyes. Poor thing can’t stop squinting.