Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie Will Have To Pry My Gray's Papaya From My Cold, Dead HandsS

Brad and Angelina want to move to the Upper West Side, I'd prefer they didn't. Shirley Jones wants to get naked; same. Piven's a perv, Shatner's sad, Paul McCartney sucks, Stevie Wonder does blow! Here's your Sunday Morning Gossip Roundup:

  • Today's big Rush and Malloy scoop: Brad and Angelina are looking to get a pad in the Upper West Side. I know what you're thinking: we've been through this before, and we did not like the results. The sacrificial real estate envy of Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick cost so much emotionally to only have some computer nerd show up in their place. But Rush and Malloy are careful not to get your hopes up: the agents for the building is having problems selling the units, and they need to do so in order for the owner's offering plan to operate for another year. Anyway, I kind of don't want them here. Not that I'd prefer one celebrity over another, but at a certain point in New York, paparazzi nonsense begins to get in your way. Like, I'm sorry, but I don't want Brad and Angie Plus Three Imported Children And A Few Others Plus A Cabal Of Photogs pushing their way through Zabars while I try to get a bagel and not trip over the old bubbies who go there. Like, when you're in your neighborhood in New York, that kind of insane bullshit's the last thing you need. You're already paranoid and skittish and hungry enough as is. Also, can you imagine waiting in line at Gray's Papaya behind them? There are only two kinds of hot dogs, but seven kinds of juice, and you know they'd just take FOREVER to decide that they all want Coke and Angelina would make them drink Papaya juice and they'd all be crying and you'd just be like, for fuck's sake, I came to get a hot dog and now this? And then some vaguely European paparazzo would take a picture of you shoving a hotdog in your face and it would ruin Gray's Papaya for you. Just, like, ruin it. [Rush and Malloy]

  • What? Partridge Family star Shirley Jones somehow made today's roundup. What did it take? The promise of nudity, of course. Jones was going to do a playboy spread until Hef saw the test shoot results and wanted to see more skin. So, Playboy subscribers, it's nice to know that the Hef is using your magazine as his own octogenarian porn vehicle, right? Okay, so, Jones is only 75. But still: Calendar Girls, ahoy. [Page Six]

  • Paul McCartney couldn't reunite the Beatles, even with blow and Stevie Wonder. Paul McCartney came close to reuniting the Beatles on a coked-out night with Wonder and John Lennon. Now, take a deep breath, and one wild, insane guess as to why it didn't happen. Okay. Done guessing? If your answer doesn't rhyme with Foko Bono, it's wrong. What, you thought there was a problem with George Harrison or something? Honestly, the Walrus might've been Paul, but the blackbird of death was Yoko. [R & M]

  • Also, Robert Plant is awesome and is being knighted for being awesome. [E!]

  • Jeremy Piven was skeezing on Hayden Panettiere at the Entourage premiere on Thursday night. Away, old man. Seriously. Also, like every other Entourage-related item that's appeared anywhere, Jerry Ferrara (Turtle) was seen "cuddling" or something with Jamie Lynn-Sigler. If you don't watch the show, well, they're together on the show and in real life. And it is ridiculous-cute and gives hope to rotund, hat-wearing underachievers with bad nicknames that stick forever everywhere that one day they, too, may date Meadow Soprano. [Page Six]

  • William Shatner couldn't get in on the Star Trek franchise revival feature, but he is wanted for the TJ Hooker version of this. Go figure. To be the Shat is a life lived curiously examined. [Page Six]

  • Ah, yes: the lame sequel to yesterday's item about Jennifer Aniston shooting at the Daily News. You get to hear about how exciting and not contrived it was to work in a "real newsroom" and be issues "fake Daily News ID cards" and how Jennifer Aniston snacked on string cheese. Seriously. Way to bring the hurt, Daily News. Gossip fail. Oh, and really sad for the lack of crossover between the Rush and Malloy UWS scoop and this. Something like "Jennifer's sad and slaving it away with the rest of us hacks while her ex-mans, lady, and twelve kids are checking out a slick UWS pad and noshing on some Gray's Papaya." [Daily News]

  • Brody Jenner's girlfriend, some Jayde Nicole person whose name or existence I don't understand, was trying to convince someone, somewhere that The Hills is real. This is like that time someone tried to convince you that visits to the proctologist are a blast, and you were like, no, but, you know, maybe? And then you were like, WTF, NO. [E!]

  • Debbie Rowe is going to the custody hearing of Michael Jackson's children, and this somehow constitutes a People item. Then again, it's People. And here I am, linking to them. Is there an over-under on how long this thing's going to dominate the gossip newscycle? There's got to be a lottery somewhere. I'm going to take two years, to be replaced by the revelation that Ron Burkle is actually a Clinton stepbrother. Longshot, I know, but I think it'd do the trick. Who's got $10 to throw down? Oh, and also, Michael Jackson didn't want his Dad to come even remotely close to his children. God, wonder why. [People and Celebrity Spy]

  • Ryan Reynolds has been cast as the Green Lantern, and I haven't. Reminder: he's also married to Scarlett Johannsen and used to be with Alanis Morisette. How good is your life? [D-Listed]

  • Page Six Gossip Cindy Adams hates The Hamptons. Now, normally, I'd tell you to avoid reading Cray-Cray Aunt Cindy's column because it's totally batshit old lady nonsense, but this is quite wonderful: she talks about going to garage sales in the Hamptons and explains how she acquired a pair of white fur Yak boots, among other things. Also, this: "I hate country and ants and air and the need to attend another art-gallery opening every weekend or some do-gooder esoteric charity event like, maybe, The Care and Feeding of The Endangered White Rhino of Tanzania." Today, you're Mama Cindy. Truth, Mama. Truth. [Page Six]