I admit, though antiques repulse me, that I would sleep with Sean Connery. Wouldn't you? That's the conclusion I reached this week as I watched his new film Entrapment, about an aging art thief who falls against his will for a much, much younger babe in the insurance industry. When you're gingerly swinging from a string of lights between the two tallest building towers in the world , then maybe a relationship with a 40-year spread between two hotties suddenly doesn't seem all that unbelievable. I went to see this film because I've been totally infatuated with Catherine Zeta-Jones (don't freak, readers, I love her hair). Then I found out she really does have a geezer fetish! She recently announced her engagement to a British game show host, effectively breaking off a steamy romance with Michael Douglas, who's younger than Connery but would easily be a scarier bedmate. Two of Douglas' other former flames, Elizabeth Vargas and ex-wife Diandra, recently partied together at a boat party in Manhattan with Connery's daughter Tanya. Gee, I wonder what they talked about?

Don's Johnson

Just like my estranged brother Brad Pitt, passe' princess Kathleen Turner and burly John Goodman, I myself am a product of the Ozark Mountains in the heart of hickland, southwest Missouri. It's a combination of moonshine and the intertwining of generations of family members that gives Ozark celebs like us that hi-pro look of glamour. Melanie Griffith's former "Miami" vice Don Johnson is also an Ozark boy, and I just heard he's giving marriage a fifth try, this time to a nursery school teacher. Awww! A far cry from Barbra Streisand, another infamous girlfriend. What a ladies' man! By the way, if anybody has copies of the gay porn films that he allegedly made in the late 70s, I will gladly pay for shipping and postage.

Where Did Her Love Go?

While Don was shacking up, armored diva Diana Ross iced her thirteen-year relationship with her husband, Norwegian shipping czar Arne Naess. As the two were hardly ever seen together, I'm not sure how anybody noticed! Naess announced the breakup on Norwegian television -- between scores of Mentos ads, presumably -- and given Ross's over-the-top spending of Naess' money, I'd say I'm not surprised. You can catch Diana in the ABC telefilm "Double Exposure," co-starring Brandy -- who's a poor replacement for Michael Jackson in anybody's book.

Carrey-ing On

Last month, I reported Jim Carrey was spotted in an "intimate situation" with former model Carol Alt. Well, it seems Carrey is desperately trying to become Hollywood's most absurd swinger, as this week he was seen at Renee Zellwegger's 30th birthday bash in the caresses of leggy showoff Ashley Judd. In full view, the two stars mashed for cameras, then disappeared an hour later. Salma Hayek, Jennifer Aniston and George Clooney were all there, so you can go ask them what they thought of this particular public display of madness. Personally, the thought of the man who perfected the "ass talk" gettin' jiggy with a spawn of Naomi Judd sends shivers through my polyester shirt.

Benjamin's High-Priced Hooker

My favorite cheesy couple -- Julia Roberts and Benjamin Bratt -- will have a lot more time to ogle their beautiful selves, as Bratt has announced he's quitting "Law And Order" to, quote, spend more time with his family. Of course, before his departure, we'll get to see Julia as Bratt's guest on the show, starring as a high priced hooker who administers a lethal dosage of Viagra to a john. But I thought they weren't doing a "Pretty Woman" sequel? Personally, I'd be annoyed if my lover got me a job as a prostitute.

New York Sightings

I've heard Michael Jackson was running around midtown last week with his two little sons in tow. (Still a scary thought, isn't it? Jacko, a daddy-o?) And, not suprisingly, all three of them were wearing breathing masks that make them look like a gang of stylish bank robbers. They were seen at shi-shi bookstore Rizzoli, thankfully protected from all that evil dust and disgusting air that the rest of us inhale everyday.

At a benefit for playwrights Christopher Durang, Wendy Wasserstein and Terrence McNally, a spy observed a gaggle of stars, including Stockard Channing, Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon, Steve Martin, Paul Rudd, Martha Plimpton and Nathan Lane -- many of whom performed excerpts from the honoree's plays. Speaking of Channing, she just got a Tony nomination for Best Actress, and she's up against Dame Judi Dench! Too bad Tonys aren't determined by the rules of the World Wrestling Federation, because that would be an unforgettaable match-up!

Gregoire's Obsession Of The Week

As I'm sure you can tell, Gregoire's not been himself this week. (As of yet, I've used no italicized words, and I haven't even mentioned Gwyneth Paltrow.) That's because I've succumbed to a very un-Gregoire obsession: Ben Folds Five. This is where I nervously stand up, you all stare encouragingly, and I announce, "My name is Gregoire, and I've been a Ben Folds Five fan for years" ... to thunderous applause! This past week, I have devolved into a 13-year-old girl with a singular, Backstreet-Boys-style focus. If you don't know Ben Folds Five, a spunky trio specializing in straight-boy power pop, then please pick up their newest album "The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner." I've listened to it so often, I can't even tell if it's good anymore. To me, Ben Folds Five is booze. (And when I italicize booze, you know I'm being severe.) I wake up every morning and go to bed every night with them, just like liquor. Their picture hangs in my corner booth at the HoJo, and I unconsciously scribble their names on cocktail napkins almost as if possessed by demons (or Tiger Beat). What's ultimately fabulous, of course, is that I'm almost 100% sure that the band themselves would be absolutely HORRIFIED to know this.

I've decided to go public because I know you all have your little secret crushes that make you blush. This isn't just about admiration; we're talking spasms of uncontrolled teenage lust exhibited by reasonably intelligent adults. After I announced my obsession in a small ceremony in Times Square, a 40-year-old friend came up and admitted to me she keeps pictures of Michael J. Fox in a secret place in her office drawer. A 29-year-old business acquaintance sheepishly told me he had all the Parker Posey webpages bookmarked and visited them weekly for updates. My grandfather stays up at night and cries listening to Tori Amos. (Okay, that's not true; he's really into Florence Henderson, but that's no fun.) And I know Breakup Girl ADAM GOLDBERG nurtures her own little odd celebrity addictions ADAM GOLDBERG, often subtlely alluded to ADAM GOLDBERG in this very column ADAM GOLDBERG.

Since I told you mine (well, one of mine), please feel free to email me your weird obsessions. (Please, no Britney Spears or N'Sync stories; let's keep this to legitimate entertainers.) The sooner we can open up to each other, the sooner we can move on to bigger, more important issues ... such as Faye Dunaway's latest tantrum and the sexual proclivities of Dean Cain. (Okay, more those next week, either way...)

I'm a brick, and I'm drowning slowly,
Gregoire

P.S. Public Service Announcement: we've received many emails asking for the 411 about The Big Bam! Foundation -- mentioned here last week -- whose celebrity spokesperson Connie Britton and many hardworking contributors are devoted to increasing breast cancer research and awareness for young women. They can be reached at 212-595-6525. Hey, they're also in TV Guide this week!

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