Pasadena, CA, February 26, 2007, 4:35pm. Macy and Jack Petersen have announced that they are the proud owners of Ms. Betsy Bugle, the first pup of the litter of Bugle pups ever to be born. A Bugle is a new breed created from a Beagle and a Poodle.

This furry creature with long wide ears and a protruding duo-toned snout is breaking new ground in the world of dog breeds! Its beautiful poodle hair and large brown Beagle eyes make it most attractive to dog lovers. This handbag dog will be the talk of the town. Weighing the size of a Wiener piglet, the bugle can easily fit into most dog handbags as long as there is room for the nose to protrude.

Even more pleasing to the owners of a Bugle is the melodic bugle-like bark that comes from this unique creature. Some could say it is a call of the pearly white gates and those who believe in Armageddon will be soothed to know that the Bugle is on it’s way to help them through the transition. Macy says that Ms. Betsy comes at a time when we all need to remember that the righteous ones will ascend and the Bugle will be there as our Swan Song into a new world!

“She’s the little angel I have been waiting for,” says Jack Petersen. “I know Beagles have a history of barking but this little Bugle is going to have such a unique bark, I know it will be well invited by neighbors and all.”

Some critiques are saying that Ms. Betsy’s eyes are rather far apart from each other, implying that the genetic mutations were not favorable. “She might have complications with focusing and depth perception, but only time will tell” says Dr. Ornstein, a local veterinarian.

Also noted, her tendency to plow her nose into anyone who may seem to impede on the personal space of her masters. Though what appears to be protective in nature, Ms. Betsy’s super soft poodle coat on a long pudgy body is appealing because if it’s unique nature alone.

Alan Arkin of “Little Miss Sunshine” has just won an oscar for best supporting actor.

His most notorious line in the film is when he laments about another night of “f*#@ing fried chicken.” My sentiments exactly! Fried chicken is a bore after so many nights of it. Kudos to you, Alan for jumping on the anti-fried chicken movement. We expect to see you in more roles where you lament about fried food in general. And hopefully, there will be an independent film solely about the benefits of a raw food diet. Maybe Carrot Top can also appear in the film and boast about the benefits of carrot juice.

Anna Nicole Smith fans are wondering who’s the daddy of her baby girl, Dannielynn Hope. Everyone is on the edge of their seats anticipating the DNA results.

Is the father of this poor motherless infant, Frederic von Anhalt, the husband of actress Zsa Zsa Gabor? Wouldn’t that be something. Maybe one day she would be asking him, “Why did my step mom punch that police officer, Daddy? Did you ever get punched by her?”
Let’s hope that Danielynn endures the dysfunctional inheritance and thrives to be a successful, happy, young woman, regardless of who her daddy turns out to be.

And hopefully, Marilyn Monroe will not be the woman she aspires to be at the ripe age of 39…

The L.A. Times is concerned with Britney Spears’ emotional health.

In what might have been a predictable outcome for a career and personal life apparently spinning out of control, Britney Spears checked herself into a rehabilitation facility, several websites reported Friday. But the singer left the facility a day later, one of the sites reported while another website carried a story saying it was all untrue.

But Defamer is more concerned with the emotional health of whichever fan buys her hair:

The savvy proprietors of Tarzana’s hottest head-shaving salon have now established a web presence to facilitate the sale of the locks, which the winning bidder is then free to use to publicize a gambling website, establish a shrine to which deranged Spears devotees will flock for years to come, or to clone their very own pop star, who, after a promising early career, will eventually succumb to the overwhelming pressures of fame and freak the fuck out at various locations along Ventura Boulevard.

Now that the hair and any remaining shards of dignity are gone, we want to know what Britney’s brain is worth without the hair covering it.