Alec Baldwin's Wife Must Have Had A Shitty Dad

In another installment of Human Bratz Doll Gina Glickman-Giordan's hard-hitting investigation of the Hamptons we all know as "Whispers," our favorite brown-noser bopped all the way to "Yoga Gives" in Southampton and went all gonzo journalism on us.

Embedded in the dark trenches of an underworld known as Yogis, she braved degradation, humiliation, perspiration, and possibly even death to deliver us an insider's look at how the rich exorcise and cleanse from the horrors and stresses of being rich. Hunter S. Thompson would have been proud. Proud that he refrained from shooting her.

In either event, after dropping the very important fact that she was not wearing Yoga clothes, she was wearing her "Lululemon finest yoga attire," she got into the purpose of her visit. To seek out and delve deeply into the life and times of Hilaria Thomas Baldwin, newly minted wife of actor Alec Baldwin.

What did we learn? First and foremost that despite our constant urge to finish her name with an "S" by calling her "Hilarious," it's actually pronounced Ee-larry-ah, which, we also learned, is Spanish for Golddigger "happy."

We also learned that despite Eelarryah's seemingly cest-la-vie attitude and folksy aw-shucksism, she, like most wealthy women in the spotlight, is just as absorbed and cooky, and control-freaky about her body image. When she was apparently accused of donning a "baby bump" at a recent charity event, she tried to control her apeshit, but couldn't, and took to Twitter with: "Shld rumors that I’m pregnant give me a complex about my waistline? How slim do u have to be? This is a serious problem in society.”

Well, really it's just a problem for you, fatty. And clearly you already have a complex about your waistline. Enjoy your beer gut.

We also learned that putting a person's name in bold-face type doesn't make them a celebrity. Who knew?

But most importantly, we learned that Hilaria must have had a really lousy father. "I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” (Bold-type Gina's, not ours. Of course.)

"I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” Aw. We can understand where she's coming from. Just check out Alec's new line of Birthday Cards for Children Whose Age You're Unsure Of, Or If In Fact They Are Children At All below:



 Bold-type...Ours.

Relief On The Way For Golddiggers

Here's a stock tip. Invest in Swiss banks. They're about to get a ton of phone calls, thanks to a measure sponsored by Sag Harbor's Albany representative Fred Thiele that will turn New York into a "no-fault" divorce state. (See: the bitch gets half?)

It used to be (and for the moment still is) that if a couple got divorced, they had to duke it out in court and find out which one was at fault for the breakup. Understanding that marriages fail for multiple nuanced reasons and more often than not, both parties contributed to the breakdown, there are still factors that New York State considers when awarding divorces and divorce settlements, such as adultery, or abandonment. This bill would negate those factors and split everything down the middle.

Thiele says he wants the measure passed because it complicates couples who have agreed to an amicable divorce. Hey Fred. There's no such thing! Even divorces that settle out of court are negotiations that neither party is all that satisfied with because they'd rather their spouse died in a fiery car crash.

Just look at Christie Brinkley and Peter Cook. That poor bastard tried to have his day in court after Brinkley went on a multiple-day-testimony bus throwing tirade, crying and pointing out all of Mr. Cook's little perversions. But suddenly when it became his turn to talk, a miraculous out-of-court settlement popped up demanding Cook's silence from here on forward. Funny how that worked. This bill would rob us of that bit of made-for-TV-drama. And it will let cheatin' hearts off the hook and well supplied in their ex's money.

You can practically hear the stampede of high heels running to the nearest voting booth. So, yeah. IPO. Drop a dime into every off-shore bank you can research.