While you were indulging in last week's orgiastic John Cusack tribute -- which, judging from a sampling of G-Mail below, was warmly received -- I was on a two-week tour of Europe, stopping in Amsterdam and London to scour these foreign streets for gossip tidbits and take a general survey of debauchery.

Did I say scour the streets of Amsterdam?! That city certainly could use a good scouring; it's basically one gigantic open sewer with artwork! I arrived in time for a national holiday known as Queens Day -- no jokes, people! -- a citywide celebration of the birthday of beloved monarch Queen Beatrix. Unlike the austerity of the English royalty, Beatrix looks like a well-dressed, mall-walking grandmother, and her face was heralded by literally thousands of drunk, pot-smoking Amsterdamnians, who openly peed into the canals in glee.

But hers was the second most-popular face in this quaint Dutch berg. Who was the most popular, you ask? None other than "Erin Brokovich" herself, Julia Roberts! Posters for this truly international hit film adorned every gondola, windmill, and Heineken bottle, and Julie's heaving, manufactured bosom complemented the sex stores, drug paraphernalia shops, and casinos like a multi-hued rainbow of glamorous tulips! Despite my complete and utter ignorance of the Dutch language -- they do love their vowels, I can tell you that much! -- Julia (as well as about two dozen KFC restaurants) made me feel right at home. Star sightings were predictably slim in this town, though one of the prostitutes featured in a neon-lit window in the famed Red Light district looked a lot like Phylicia Rashad.

London was a tad more sophisticated, as I saw no urination in the streets, and people drank tea with breakfast, not beer. The much-hyped Tate Modern Art Gallery had not yet opened, so I had to satiate my thirst for YBA (Young British Artists) by eating at Pharmacy, the drugstore-themed eatery co-owned by Damian Hirst, daredevil creator of such art classics as "Piss Christ" and that one with the shark cut in half. Lucky diners at this restaurant may relieve themselves on original Hirst artwork in the lavatory, made entirely of hypodermic needles and other medical exotica.

I had no star sightings in London, either -- not even one Goldie Hawn appearance at Harrods! -- though I caught "The Graduate" with Kathleen Turner, a play that I hope never surfaces on these shores. Kathy, however, looks gorgeous, and the two seconds we get to see her nude are a marvel of fabulous lighting. Afterwards, I and my companions Gianni and Stefano hit a bar on Rupert Street and ordered up a round of martinis in celebration of Kathy's new look, only to discover that bars close at 11 pm! We resorted to toasting the "Body Heat" goddess with a rhumba frappucino at the ever-present Starbucks.

But was Kathleen the toast of Ol' London? Sadly, no, for I had arrived during a huge "Scream 3" blitz, and the horrorstricken face of Neve Campbell literally plastered the city, from every red phone booth to the Tower Of London. In fact, you can mourn Princess Diana at Kensington Gardens and, within fifty feet, run into five Neves.

London Calling

Naturally, between club-hopping (thumbs-up to Heaven, thumbs-down to Home) and Tower Of London tours, I was able to scoop up some star-sightings from others who call this merry ol' town home:

--George Clooney, between cameos on "ER" and appearances at the Cannes Film Festival, stopped into London and desperately wanted to party with pals at hotspot Rock. As he parked his car -- no easy feat on the thimble-thick, backward streets of London -- one friend went up to the doorman to prep the club for his arrival. When gruff doorsmen told the friend that Georgie had to appear in person before they would prep anything special for him, the "Perfect Storm" star perfectly stormed away.

--Having a bit more luck at swanky Met Bar is wild, royal bachelor Prince Andrew, who drank and gabbed for hours at the bar with Christy Turlington. They met next door in a hotel foyer and went to Met Bar almost completely unnoticed (though, obviously, if you're reading this, not entirely unnoticed). As Andy has publicly intimated that he might remarry weight-loss spokeswoman Sarah Ferguson, this sighting seems especially peculiar. Is Chris trying to net a crown for her pretty, little head?

--Of course, the real royal couple of London is Posh Spice Victoria Adams and soccer/football/whatever-they-bloody-call-it star David Beckham, and the press proclamations that Vicky is the new Princess Diana are probably not helping her sleep at night. In fact, a death threat on the lives of Vicky and baby Brooklyn actually topped the headlines the morning after London's first mayoral election!

--Apparently, some commonly-named place called Pizza Express is a hot Covent Garden celeb magnet: during one evening at the eatery, Nick Nolte stopped in for a pie, as did sultry model Caprice and local celeb Jamie Oliver, known as The Naked Chef. (Hopefully, he wears clothes at other people's restaurants.)

--Last Thursday, I crammed into Wembley Arena with thousands of other retrofits Brits to see Simply Red perform, and what was lead singer Mick Hucknall sporting? A black eye! He claims it was a minor accident, though other reports tell of the formerly-butt-ugly songster's unfortunate attempts to woo a young lady with an obvious penchant for self-defense. Whatever the look, Mick was still "holding back the years." He looked younger than he did in the 1980s! (See what regular bathing can do for you?)

--Oddly enough, original British programming on BBC makes our shows like "Malcolm And Eddie" look like "Masterpiece Theater"! One of BBC's longest running programs "Top Of The Pops" is known for its sizzling performances, but while I was in town, a fire literally ransacked a set during rehearsal, sending its performers at the time -- "Barbie Girl" creators Aqua -- screaming into the street. Sadly, this terrible excuse for a dance-pop band was not incinerated in the flames!

--Naomi Campbell was seen last month futilely trying to saddle herself with hottie Joseph Fiennes at the British Academy Awards. Now comes word that Joe's choice isn't the tempestuous supermodel but rather Indian model, Sekhri Nirupama. But wait a minute, isn't Naomi already dating Flavio Briatore? Good lord, how many men does this enchantress need?!

Unfortunately, my travel plans did not afford me a stop by Madonna's exclusive little barbecue at the home she shares with Guy Ritchie. In stark contract to her "Sex" book days, Maddie reportedly slipped on an apron and flipped the veggie burgers and ribs herself, as the child-heavy attendees orbited about her. Sorry I couldn't make it, Maddie! Hope your ribs were yum!

Wedded Bliss?

And what happened while I was away? Apparently, everybody got married! I was stunned to learn that Angelina Jolie got hitched not to her brother but ratherto Ozarkian Billy Bob Thornton, whose background has certainly familiarized him with incestuous ways. (Hey, I'm not judging; my sister once dated my second cousin!) Jolie accessorized for the occasion with a Billy Bob tattoo. Talk about impulsive! Strangely, they met on the set of "Pushing Tin," possibly the only John Cusack film I didn't touch upon last week. I hope Billy Bob carries mace with him at all times, as this woman has exhibited volatile behavior in relationships. FYI, has anybody else noticed the odd similarity in the names of her hubby Billy Bob and ex-hubby Jonny Lee Miller?

In more functional marital news, my boss BG's heart was certainly broken at the news of Marc Anthony's recent marriage to Dayanara Torres, a former Miss Universe. Like Billy Bob and Angelina, Marc got married in Las Vegas, but his was a much classier affair, tucked away in the Presidential Suite of the Desert Inn Hotel as opposed to a quickie chapel betrothal. I guess if you get married in a hotel room, you don't have far to go for the honeymoon!

BG doesn't bear her heartbreak alone. My own personal fave, Noah Wyle, finally got hitched with his makeup artist galpal Tracy Warbin in a lovely ceremony in Los Olivos, California. At the reception, they were serenaded by Lou Diamond Phillips, who was briefly possessed with Ritchie Valens once again as he belted "La Bamba." His on-screen "ER" sparring partner, Eriq La Salle, also stopped by to wish the couple well. Now is it just me, or did Noah Wyle marry a woman that looks EXACTLY like him?

G Sightings

I don't care what anybody says; New York is the place to bathe yourself in the radiant glow of celeb sightings. Here's a few from the past couple weeks:

--My spy at Omni Bershire Place hotel had a couple hot spottings this week, as the gaggle of cute, British boys known as Travis checked in before their Radio City Music Hall appearance with Oasis (who were not seen because the brothers Gallagher were probably trying to drown each other somewhere). Days later, my spy assisted none other than Matchbox Twenty frontman, Rob Thomas, who was so friendly and sexy that my source was nearly fired for fawning so obviously over the "Smooth" rock idol.

--Of all the stars who've already been to see "Almost Famous," the witty one-man show by Bruce Vilanch, the most unusual has got to be David Copperfield, who magically appeared in a seat one night and pulled new "girlfriend"/model Amber out of a hat.

--Considering the fact that he possesses the most mutated Baldwin eyes of the entire family, how is it that youngest Baldwin Stephen always get the girls? Easy! Just open a hot Manhattan lounge, and they'll flock to you! The Stevie-owned Lauhn lounge was host to an IMG models party, and you could see the blue-eyed star of popular M&M commercials salivate as through the door sashayed hosts of models and such hotties as Bridget Hall and Donovan Leitch. Even Derek Jeter was there!

--Personally, I find Gabriel Byrne sexier than all the Baldwins and some Arquettes combined, and this dark, sultry star was snacking with friends at the Russian Tea Room last week.

--At the horrendously overrated club Exit, crowded partyers witnessed "View" czarina Star Jones demand the finest champagne the club could provide. When she was brought Taittinger, she exclaimed that she only drinks Cristal and shooed the second-most expensive bottle away. Meanwhile, a few feet away, Foxy Brown watched in horror as her assistant tripped on her own heels and tumbled down a flight of stairs. All this, and who was performing on the main floor but the Village People!

G-Mail

John Cusack may not be the biggest star in the world, but he holds a sacred spot in the hearts of G-Spot readers. Observe a sampling of missives below:

"Gregoire, thank you, muchas gracias, merci, for this wonderful piece on my favorite guy for whom I'd break my no 'more dating guys who are under thirty-five rule.' My daughter and I have fought over which one of us deserves JC more for YEARS! I see all his movies, bomb or no bomb. And that Neve chick person better not break his heart!!" --Christine

Not only did I receive a load of positive responses to last me through "one crazy summer," for the first time ever, I failed to receive one letter or e-mail asking about 'NSync! For seven, single shining days, John proves more popular than boy bands!

"Gregoire, JC was shooting a movie here in Calgary last summer and spent most nights on a local patio, enjoying the scenery of the lady sitting beside him, Neve Campbell. They looked sooo happy, and I am only tolerant of this because he seemed like such a genuinely nice guy in person."

You're more tolerant than most people, love. Please witness:

"Gregoire, I wish I could have helped you research this piece! To sit and watch all my fave 80s flicks, poised on every word uttered through those boyish lips...ahhhhhhh!

I find myself in tears after reading my latest G-Spot. SAY IT AIN'T SO!!!! NOT Neve Campbell! Are you serious??? She wouldn't last five minutes on the streets of Chicago! Imagine her at a dinner table with John, Tim, and Susan. Oh please! It makes me retch! And you can't tell me she excites his intellect and debates his theories. Pah!!!" --Carey

You're not alone in your disgust of the out-of-work "Party Of Five" actress and London billboard star. Seems nobody has a nice thing to say about John's choice of mate. Will a Neve Campbell please e-mail me and stick up for her?!

"Gregoire, I'm sorry, but I noticed this misquote in the lovely tribute to our sweetheart John Cusack:

'I met her in a mall. I should have known our relationship was through.'

He actually says: 'I met her in a mall. I should have known our relationship was doomed.'

He says doomed, not through. Otherwise, perfect tribute, and it's about time someone did it!! Great of you to acknowledge Joan also; she's very underappreciated and has great talent. Don't forget about Johnny's role as the supportive older, but dead, brother in Stand by Me." --Melanie

Thanks for the catch! Watching two dozen films in a row begins to take a toll on the note-scrawling abilities.

Next week, it's back to the gossip grindstone in the good old USA! And maybe, just maybe, we'll run into a couple old, old friends, namely Ben and Gwyn. Lovers, friends, or girlfriends?

Until I'm crowned Miss Universe and this country celebrates MY birthday,

Gregoire

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