Okay, sugar-muffins, the only reason this one's in the Vice section is because until quite recently, Toothy Tile was dating his superpopular, superannoyingly perfect girlfriend. Not boyfriend. Which, if you ask this old gossip whore, is the classification Tile would prefer his significant others be filed under in the very near future.
One Adorable Blind Vice
Mere days ago, while everyone was hooting and complaining about this gown and that host from the Oscars, Tile was right out in the open holding hands with his man in a West Hollywood restaurant--which shall remain nameless...because I love going there and they probably won't serve me anymore if I start outing their customers, ca-friggin'-peesh?
Not that I'd be outting anybody, anyway. Mr. Tile took care of that himself. Covertly, but he did it.
It was late in the afternoon; everybody had cleared out. Save Tile and his man-amigo, who extended his hands flat on the marble table (yes, that's a hint) until they were intertwined with Tile's. Massive smiles then appeared on both daring dudes.
Too sweet! And such a departure for this debauched department, doncha think? Don't worry, as sure as Tile's famous ex knew, deep down, way below her doable dimples, what Tile really wanted (hence, the breakup), next week, we'll be right back on salacious patrol, damn sure.
NOT: Toby Maguire, Keanu Reeves, Jamie Foxx
One Window-Fogged Blind Vice This one's getting interesting.
Remember Toothy Tile from One Adorable Blind Vice? The sweet movie-star guy who was surreptitiously holding digits with his boyfriend at a West Hollywood restaurant? Well, he's at it again. Only, this time, more than digits are being utilized. At least the ones...never mind.
So, there T2 is with the stud-unit again. In the concrete parking structure of a very popular Hell-Ay shopping enclave. It was dark. Not too many shoppers were around.
Could this be why handsome Tooth (whose legs, I feel, have been vastly undersold, thanks to his mega-charming smile) saw fit to smooch his companion in their car, reclining their seats as far back as Faye Dunaway's forehead. And this kissing scene didn't simply occur in first, my dears. No, Tile brought the all-man, all-body Frenching session right on home, full throttle, all the way to fifth, I'd say.
Damn, that boy's a gusty speed racer.
· Sunday, 6 p.m., upper Runyon Canyon, saw a toothy (and built) Jake Gyllenhaal jogging with his dog (but no jogging partner, male or female)…but not so sure the shaved head look is all that sexy.
Okay, my dishin' darlings, Toothy Tile's back for a raunchy round three. Let's see, we've had T.T., a handsome boy, by far, hand-holding at restaurants, snogging his man-love in Hell-Ay's subterranean parking lots...What's next, an Oprah appearance with Toothy declaring his love for the good-lookin' b-f?
One Multimedia Blind Vice
Close. Very close.
Word on the homo-connected nut-vine has it that Toothy's been in talks with an Oprah-esque mag (i.e., huge circulation, other media connections like TV networks) about coming out of the closet. Not as gay, but as...bisexual.
This, of course, would help explain T.T.'s past dating experience with lithe female movie stars. But (as is often the case with love) now he can't control the fact that he's in a major butterfly state with a dude (don't you hate it when that happens?).
At least, that's the plan--to be done with a queer writer for added politically correct synergy (some say for guaranteed taste, but I don't trust these reporters, regardless of their sexual orientation).
It'll be most interesting. Particularly when Mr. Tile's big-screen job makes a very sensual, boyish splash at the same time.
NOT: Will Smith, Val Kilmer, Tobey Maguire
The Moist Eyes Have It Jake Gyllenhaal, hiking up Hell-Ay's Runyon Canyon with his midsize pooch and stud-worthy abs. He was all by his lonesome, sporting a short buzz job and baggy shorts, but who the hell could see if the gams were any good, what with those blinding tummy muscles...Whew! Come on, darlin' Kirsten, what were you thinking? Lost in some kinda thought, too, was Mr. G., quite the moody man (at least right now, huh?). Strutting in a diff jungle altogether was hottie-honey..
One Hair-Raising Blind Vice Slurpina Regina is renowned for doing what guys love the most, and usually chicks don't. And, no, I'm not talking about bottom-line boinking. Get your minds outta the gonzo gutter, already. I'm not that bad. Yet.
Slurp, for short (just like her), broke up not long ago with her cute man, Smiley Fakeit. Now, though S. 'n' S. have both made a killing in their chosen professions, it's rather ironic that neither of them are a bit like the public thinks.
But then that goes for the majority of Hollywood, doesn't it?
Back to the broken-up honeys: Like many romantic fools, Slurp and Smiley have attempted post-split friendship. Rarely works, right? As one or the other partner is usually still hooked. Just like our talented gal, Slurp.
So, there S.S. is at S.F.'s hillside Hell-Ay-area abode, swinging with the young and the Beemer-driving set. And oh, look! It's a pajama party! How retro-Hef! Last one in the fake-rock Jacuzzi is an underwearing-equipped egg!
Amidst the heavy-duty, NC-17 smooching and groping, Smiley flirts with Slurp just enough to keep her hooked. Throws out a few "love ya's" just to keep that passive-aggressive tether tight, doncha know. What a highlighted canine.
Unbeknownst to Ms. Regina, there at the poke-adelic party is a dude who would die to do her right. And not just there at the stupid-ass themed soiree. The morning after. And the one after that, he professes to one of Smiley's good chums. But the amigo says, no, back off, Smiley wants to get back together with Slurp. Bummer.
Bigger bummer: Not long after a naïvely hopeful Slurpina departs, her anonymous love wannabe walks into Mr. F.'s boudoir to say good night. Of course, he's busy doing you know what to some random babe from the party.
Dudes--they're dogs, just like I said.
Jake Gyllenhaal, stealing away to a dark, damp enclave at Olé! Tapas Bar. Studio City. The Valley. Ain't superfame such the damn bitch? Give the a guy a break, already, and let him eat his friggin' fish dinner in peace! Seated in a booth with a kinda yummy guy-pal--about his age, shorter than Jake, with an Ashton Kutcher 'do--J.G. easily pulled off that aw-shucks sexiness in loose jeans and an untucked white button-down. Could Jake have been discussing getting back with Kirsten, just dude-to-dude? Regardless, Ms. D.'s leftover hunk noshed on a seafood medley, while his bud diligently chewed up steak tips. You read it raw here first!