I guess having her first pregnancy immortalized in sculpture wasn’t mass-media-saturating enough. So Britney Spears is pulling a Demi Moore this time around, posing for a series of concealed-nude photos for the August issue of Harper’s Bazaar, including a cover shot.

No, the preceding link won’t lead you to any more belly-baring pics. But this one will, as will this one. Enjoy.

I must confess to conflicting emotions over this. On the one hand, I shudder at the sheer absurdity. On the other, Brit’s new brunette look kinda turns me on.

He may have shunted his trademark movie setting to London, but Woody Allen knows New York is still his big moneymaker. As pre-publicity for the release of his latest opus, Scoop, Allen is filling column space in not one, but two Big Apple-centric magazines this month:

- For The New Yorker, he writes “Thus Ate Zarathustra”, a send-up of Friedrich Nietzsche’s philosophical allegories via the fad-diet milieu;

- Meanwhile, in New York Magazine, Allen and his newfound ingenue Scarlett Johansson are the centerpiece for a writeup on all the upcoming summertime fun. He’s even on the cover, posing in a Billy Wilder-Marilyn Monroe homage.

Nice to see the nebbish embracing his media roots.

I’ve always contemplated the nature of my existence. Now, thanks to this recent “Get Fuzzy” installment, I can stop. Bucky Katt calls it: “Greeks don’t exist”.

On a related note, I can’t tell you how often I’ve wished that those slippers with the puffy balls, and matching skirt-kilts, didn’t exist, too. But that’s Hellenic democracy for you…