Hardy Plumbing
May 24, 2006

Indy Gossip & Whispers


She walked in quietly and alone, a veil shielding her face from view. Perhaps she had come to pine for the man she once loved, hoping one more glimpse would satisfy her loved-starved heart.

What she observed frightened her. This wasn't the man she always believed would be the father of her children, the man she called the love of her life. This wasn't the handsome hunk she writhed in agony over.

No, this was something — bizarre. This was a crazed animal, a buffoon, a blood-sucking freakazoid. Worse, it was a blood-sucking freakazoid midget.

Satiated, a super-skinny Nicole Kidman got up and walked right out of the Hampton Bays movie theater, right in the middle of ex-hubby's painfully crappy bomb M:I III, knowing the height-challenged Scientology poster boy was better off with his child bride, Katie Holmes, and their baby. Only one question remains to be answered: who IS the father of that little alien?

BTW, She was also seen filming inside a candy store in East Quogue the other day, but she didn't eat any of the sweets.

SIGHTINGS: Kandy, just back from a Mediterranean fling with some lathered-up overweight investment tycoon, was enjoying a rare evening without his overbearing company when she saw Howard Stern strolling down Main Street in Southampton. Of course, she knows him well — she knows all the deep wallets well — but he looked well, different. At first she thought younger, but no, he had the plastic fantastic look, you know the one — the Joan Rivers thing. Face tight like a drum. Yes, Howard has been done. The shock jock had his mug fixed, and that must have cost a small fortune, given his, well, his mugginess. Kandy kept walking, knowing the talking monster is, for the time being, comfortably ensconced with another gold-grabbing hottie.

Check out our Hamptons Home supplement in this issue for an exclusive interview with dreamy Peter Cook, who had Kandy all a-flutter from a simple glimpse of his magnificent smile. Kandy, because she is too lazy to work and has, shall we say, very expensive tastes in shoes, clothing, and designer drugs, has, as aforesaid taken up with Sugar Daddies of a certain age. In other words, she's not used to real teeth.

Speaking of Sightings, people call Kandy and Spades all the time to ask us where to go to see celebs: Well, you can see us here at The Indy . . . truthfully, we've seen more hotties at Burger King than anywhere — what's up wit dat? Certainly, Della Femina's in East Hampton gets its share — the caricatures on the walls prove it. Howard is always there, and so is Martha. But when Tiki Barber showed up last year, that's when Kandy got all wet under there. Nick and Toni's? Still yes — the movie crowd mainly, Penny Marshall (who dies for Spades), Spielberg et al. The Palm? Perelman and his celebrity guests pretty much camp there all summer. JLX? Richard Gere, dat's who. Dockers in East Quogue reports last season's visitors included: Brooke Shields, Liza "The Empty Prescription Bottle" Minnelli, Chris "No I'm Not Gay" O'Donnell, Adam "I Just Made Another Shit Movie" Sandler, Mary J. Bilge ("I like her big butt," says Spades), Cindy Crawford ("Let me count the ways," says Spades), and Jessica Simpson, minus that dweebie, talentless loser she called a hubby.

The big catch this summer, however, will be Paul McCartney, going solo to Nichols in East Hampton for a pint or two. The best part of Sir Paul is he does it without a Pre-Nup! Kandy wants a piece of that action!

RUMORS AND INNUENDO: Which over-the-hill designer has a new boy-toy on a leash? What alcohol-infused aging actress is taking out her frustrations on the horrified staff of a certain white-hot East Hampton restaurant? What swank Southampton neighborhood has a serial flasher running through the yards at night? The bluebloods are keeping the story under wraps because "Junior" (as he is known for more reasons than one) is the troubled stepson of a very influential fundraiser.

SCHEDULES FOR THE WEEKEND:

Kandy: Sleep in Friday morning, alfalfa sprouts and white tea for lunch, deep massage from buff guy, The Da Vinci Code with a graying, distinguished South-of-Highway gentleman. Saturday: sleep in, bowel cleansing, self-mutilation (OK, only kidding), beach blanket bingo with buff massage parlor guy. Sunday: sleep in, lobster and champagne lunch, tanning session, Jitney back to Upper West Side.

Spades: Friday: Cocktails with the guys, bar-hopping with the guys, pick up pretty young thing, wham bam thank you ma'am. Saturday: Raw egg, banana, yogurt breakfast, hit the pool, hit the beach, hit the bar for drinks with the guys, bar-hop with the guys, pick up pretty young thing, throw her the high hard one. Sunday: sleep, eat, watch ballgame, take snooze, eat, drink, sleep.

Hey Word up! Check out our main bitches Veronica and Jameson — they have a new column "Hampton Daze" in this issue. You go, girls!

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