I'm taking a break from the confines of my HoJo headquarters in Times Square to offer you greetings from Hollywood-on-the-Hudson, the ethnically diverse, financially-savaged wasteland formerly known as the Lower East Side of Manhattan (and my homedigs). Seems you cannot walk down these litter-filled streets anymore without running into a film crew. Where once there were soup lines for immigrants, now there are actors' trailers, snack tables, and bitchy production assistants futilely trying to empty the streets of confused Chinese and Jewish residents! I stepped from my apartment this weekend and ran right into the shooting of the new ABC series, "The Beat." (I asked if they needed any extras, but they declined my generous offer.) Then, a block later, I stumbled cluelessly into a swirl of activity involving the new Jerry Bruckheimer film, "Coyote Ugly," on the very street corner the Mark Wahlberg flop "The Corrupter" had congested one year ago to the day!

Of course, New Yorkers are accustomed to such annoying, though glamorous, intrusions. Indeed, who hasn't had their daily routine interrupted by Sarah Jessica Parker and trailers of "Sex and The City" actors? A friend of mine was even asked if his apartment could be used for an upcoming episode of the popular HBO series! (My friend declined. His reason: "I don't want those dirty film people in my home.")

A little Hollywood razzle-dazzle is always nice, but if I'm going to be yelled at for walking down my sidewalk--who cares if expensive film equipment is just lying around?--then these people can go back to their Los Angeles backlots and yell at their blue screens. And how dare they show up without big stars to show off? If you're going to take over my streets, the least you could do is have Winona Ryder or Charlize Theron standing around! Take our stoops and authentic building facades, but, please, please, you selfish film people, leave us a little Brandy, at the very least!

Could This Be Magic?

The magic has worn off between hyper-cheesy trickster David Copperfield and his Nordic superbunny Claudia Schiffer, who have been engaged longer than the duration of most marriages. Dave was seen last week at the New York club Life with a Claudia-like mannequin--Chilean star Angelica Castro--and were openly, er, friendly with each other the entire evening, according to sources. The Magic Man is hotter dating material than, say, "Weird" Al Yankovich, yet I'm surprised he'd risk losing his model girlfriend for a South American television star. Dave, wasn't Xuxa available?

Miss Claude has purportedly been seen making out with a sexy stranger during a recent yachting voyage in the Mediterranean, but whenever I'm on a yachting voyage in the Mediterranean, it's quite natural for me to be seen making out with a sexy stranger, so who can blame her? I'm praying that she's come to her senses and found somebody who's a little more surprised to find coins behind people's ears. Magicians scare me!

Leonardo DiCaprio, the former pal of another magical David (Blaine, not Copperfield), happened to be at Life that night also, but then, he's always there, as if the place was actually fun or something. Leo, dear, there are other happenin' places in New York. Why not pick up a Village Voice or an HX, read, experiment. Inform yourself. I don't settle for just one bar. Why should you?

Meeting Of the Minds

The hottest star sighting of the entire week was undisputedly at the premiere of Sharon Stone's latest flop movie, "The Muse." Who were seen yukking it up with each other like regular school girls but Rolling Stone artifact Keith Richards and classic-film holdover Lauren Bacall. Those who got close enough say Richards was giving Bacall nutritional advice: eat an onion a day! I'm not sure what this daily onion would do for LB, but if she takes Keith's example, she'll be a sack of baggy flesh within weeks. As it is, she still looks gorgeous as she preps for her return to Broadway--an event that would make Judi Dench's recent return seem like a shift change at the local topless bar in comparison.

The Lost Boy

Can you believe Kiefer Sutherland is really 30 years old? Wasn't it only yesterday that this blond devil charmed us as the lonely, pensive vampire in that screen classic, "The Lost Boys"? He's undoubtedly called up his old friend and costar Corey Haim by now with the latest news that he's split with his wife Kelly Winn, to whom Kief had been married for three years. I'm sure Corey, a former boozer and drug user, has since taken his former costar out for drinks and really talked Kief down from his ledge of dispair. Life is a never-ending wheel of heartache, I'm sure Corey told him, maybe holding his hand as the tears flowed. You can either let that wheel trample you, or you can ride it like you did that motorcycle in the movie. Remember? Corey wipes off his friend's tears, they hug like real brothers, and another shining 80s star is rescued from the brink. Thank you, Corey; thanks once again.

Other Alcoholics

Celebrities really set shining examples for the rest of us to follow. Has anybody ever had a star sighting at church, for instance? Here's a few recent booze-swilled spottings in Manhattan....

* The greatly humbled Quentin Tarantino takes his margaritas in the A.M., as he downs a few with some friends at the stuffy model hangout The Coffee Shop, bright and early at nine in the morning. My kinda guy! (You'll remember The Coffee Shop as the exterior of the restaurant on the short-lived TV series "Union Square")

* Also seen last week at The Coffee Shop: David Schwimmer and Snoop Doggy Dogg. Not together.

* Tom Brokaw fancies margaritas as well, so much so that he very generously tipped both his waitress and the bartender who made them at Zocalo. No word on whether he went right over and did the evening news, but I'd like to think so.

THIS JUST IN: BG watched Joan Jett watch the New York Liberty crush Charlotte to win the Eastern Conference Final last night. Truth be told, BG had to ask who she was once she saw the autograph hounds. This is either because (a) Joan Jett has changed her look dramatically, or (b) BG is a big dork.

Bland Items

Who said that blind items had to be for naughty things? Here's a few concealed tidbits proving stars are just as mundane as real people are!

What successful film director eschews drugs and sex for her collection of knitted plaques and portraits of homes and puppies, which she uses to decorate the hallway of her posh New York apartment building? What spokesperson of the three biggest, sexiest stars in the world turns her back on the compelling world of glamour to find comfort in her collection of fake foods (you know, that lacquered bowl of spilled soup, that carton of milk pouring its contents) and miniature porcelain poodles? What hot indie movie actor has ignored the lecherous paths followed by other hot stars of his ilk to fester a compulsion for his wind daisy collection, which adorns his rooftop like a plasticine garden of delights?

Let's talk about Corey Haim some more next week, shall we? Send me your thoughts, your stories, your scandals involving the late 80s cutie. In the meantime, I'll polish up on his oeuvre, which includes such motion picture classics as "License To Drive," "Prayer Of The Rollerboys," and, obvo, "Lucas."

Until we all have margaritas with Corey (and until Breakup Girl figures out the difference among Corey Haim, Corey Feldman -- and Joan Jett!),
Gregoire

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