I always liked Kevin Spacey. He’s one talented bitch (we don’t talk about Pay It Forward except the scene where Haley Joel Osment is jumping around and Spacey starts mocking his pro wrestling fandom and you realize that Spacey is actually the gay uncle and not Helen Hunt’s boyfriend). But apparently, his talent has gone to his old head, and he’s acting the fool.
Spacey is doing press for an HBO movie called Recount and apparently he’s rivaling Diddy and Mimi for the huge armada of an entourage that he’s traveling with. You know it’s about five Chelsea rent boys and a couple of fag hags. Let’s be real. Kevin Spacey likes fun.
“He’s got bodyguards, several publicists, a makeup artist, a personal hairdresser, someone who’s styling him,” said a source. “There are so many people, it’s ridiculous.”
The “bodyguards” were hired via ads that appear at the back of your local alternative weekly. There’s usually a shirtless picture of them above the phone number 1-800-PIPE.
Spacey’s spokesrentboy says that divas need to be divas.
“A publicist, a groomer and security are there when they do press, just like they are for other stars,” Spacey’s rep says. The rep mentioned that he had to get off the phone because “Kevin likes us to have an babyoil pose-off contest before our three martini lunch and thong orgy.”