It's common for Hollywood megastars to complain about being chased by overzealous paparazzi. It's much less common for movie stars to be doing the chasing. Consider Cameron Diaz a pioneer. The former Charlie's Angels star filed a police report last week accusing an unidentified photographer of assault with a deadly weapon after the paparazzo allegedly drove his car at the star and her boyfriend, Justin Timberlake. The two were leaving a friend's Hollywood home when the man reportedly came out of the bushes and tried to photograph the couple. Diaz and Timberlake then did what any upstanding Hollywood citizen would do and chased the professional stalker a short distance down the road. The photographer rushed to his car and apparently sped toward the famous couple, causing Diaz to jump out of the way. Timberlake-apparently not one to rush to his girlfriend's aid and under the impression that the entire ordeal was part of an elaborately choreographed new dance routine for his upcoming tour-immediately began to break dance, moonwalking out of harm's way. Lance Bass could not be reached for comment.


Johnny Knoxville made his not-so-anticipated return to the big screen last Friday (after his critically acclaimed performances in The Dukes of Hazzard and The Ringer) in the sequel to the first Jackass movie. To no one's surprise, the film has about as much of a plotline as Snakes on a Plane. There was a time not so long ago when movies like these were confined to straight-to-video status, the time period your parents often refer to as "the good 'ol days." Yet audiences nationwide flocked to their local theaters this weekend to see what Knoxville and his dim-witted buddies stapled themselves to this time around, making Jackass the number one movie at the box office. Don't get me wrong- I've laughed at the Jackass shows as much as anyone else. I'm just not so sure that Johnny Knoxville watching a midget chase a fat man in his underwear around a city is something that needed to be filmed for a nationwide theatrical release (let alone a sequel). Then again, Knoxville and his pals are probably sitting in a lavish mansion sipping Cristal at $1,000 a bottle as I write this. Knoxville and his fellow jackasses might be smarter than any of us. They get paid more than most Americans to do all the stupid things we all do in our spare time. I salute you, Mr. Knoxville. Continue with your stapling of body parts to inanimate objects and let me know if you need a stunt double in the next film, Johnny!