You can buy a lot of cigars with that

President Clinton's "incredibly frank" autobiography might fetch $7 million; Jerry Springer just about hates himself. Plus: Anna Nicole Smith can't keep her clothes on and a bruised David Spade forgives his attacker.


Amy Reiter
December 4, 2000 10:24PM (UTC)

Is President Clinton's pen even mightier than his sword?

These days, it may be a hotter commodity. The New York Post reports that the president has just about completed his memoirs and is sniffing around for an agent.

Publishing sources estimate that the rights to the book may snag him more than $7 million, the very same number being bandied about for Hillary Clinton's yet-to-be-written memoirs. The president, too, is said to discuss "that woman, Ms. Lewinsky" and other matters sexual in an "incredibly frank" manner.

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"He kind of takes a Jimmy Carter approach, like Carter told Playboy he had sinned in his heart, in that he writes that we are all subject to temptation," one source tells the Post.

Then again, some of us are more tempted than others.

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Taking Turners

"Maybe we could have co-presidents. You be president this week, and I'll be president next week. It's a real hard job, and that might work pretty well because the president would get plenty of rest that way ... We don't pay him that much, anyway -- not nearly as much as he would make in a private business."

-- Ted Turner, offering a solution to the POTUS election madness in a speech before the World Affairs Council of Philadelphia on Thursday.

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Movin' on

Lesson for today: Not all aging male actors deal with divorce in the same way.

Bruce Willis, for instance, wants to spend a little time solo, now that his split from Demi Moore is a done deal. "I'm taking a year to myself," he tells Us Weekly. "I've been in and out of a relationship for the last 18 years, and I decided that I'm going to take a year off and see what that's like. That will be a far more unique experience to me than jumping back into a relationship."

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Not so Dennis Quaid. His method of coping? Date a supermodel.

Reports are rife that Meg Ryan's ex is keeping company with recent GQ and Maxim cover girl Caprice. The duo reportedly showed up arm-in-arm at the L.A. premiere of Arnold Schwarzenegger's "The 6th Day," snogged their way through the film and then zipped off together when the film was over.

The model is also said to have been on hand to cheer Quaid on when he performed with his band, the Sharks, at a recent Hollywood gig. As Quaid sang a love ballad, witnesses said he looked straight at her.

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Which, as I recall, is more than Russell Crowe did for Ryan when she showed up to cheer him on at one of his band's gigs.

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Gobsmacked by a crappy postcard!

"I am absolutely gobsmacked. My boyfriend has been painting things like this and I bought it."

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-- A woman who bought an unsigned postcard sketch of dog crap covered with flies for a mere $50 and later discovered it was a Damien Hirst original.

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Talkin' trash

Forget the fisticuffs. Jerry Springer needs a hug.

The king of trash TV has been dissing himself again, telling the U.K. Telegraph that "a dolt could do" his job. "There's no talent involved," he says. "I don't have any talent."

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His show, he says, "stands for nothing. It has no value. It's entertainment. It's chewing gum. I think it's crazy, I think it's the stupidest show on television. It's not worthy of analysis. I can't believe that serious people would have a discussion about it."

Aw, Jer. What about all those people who live to scream your name over and over and over again? "When people chant, 'Jerr-y! Jerr-y!' that's nice," Springer says, "but I don't go around thinking, 'Boy, am I loved.'"

In fact, he says, he has no hope that history will remember him kindly and would rather like it to forget him altogether. "I don't want to be remembered," he says. "I hope no one remembers me at all."

Might happen, but they'll surely remember the guy who married his horse and the woman who slept with her sister's three husbands.

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Only the good bands die young

"We've been around longer than VH1."

-- Jon Bon Jovi, accepting the My VH1 Music Award for video of the year.

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Juicy bits

Guess she's recovered from that dumbbell injury ... Anna Nicole Smith has agreed to display her trademark assets in the pages of Playboy yet again. She'll doff her duds for a spread in the magazine's February issue. Just think, what cost her late husband $1.6 billion can be yours for a few measly bucks.

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For a little guy, David Spade sure has a big capacity for forgiveness. In a statement released shortly after staffer and fellow actor David Malloy allegedly attacked him with a stun-gun in a suspected robbery attempt, Spade said his "heart goes out" to his old friend. "David Malloy was a good friend of mine for five years," Spade said. "I believe he is a good person who is obviously mentally troubled right now. I can only hope that he seeks the help he needs to get well." A lesser man might've said just shoot him.

Even those of you who've been cursing Christy Turlington's ubiquitous no-smoking ad, can't feel good about this. The 31-year-old model has announced that she's been diagnosed with early-stage emphysema, even though she quit smoking five years ago. Doctors discovered she had the lung disease after she underwent a lung scan in order to heighten public awareness about diagnostic technology. Due to Turlington's tender age, however, doctors suspect the disease may be reversible.

In happier news, that "Saturday Night Live" pit-smeller Molly Shannon is getting another crack at a lead role on the big screen. According to the Hollywood Reporter, Shannon will net $2 million to play a therapist who falls in love with an artist who is, alas, engaged. Sniff, sniff ...

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Miss something? Read yesterday's Nothing Personal.


Amy Reiter

MORE FROM Amy Reiter


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