• Princess Michael of Kent — best known for spewing racist diarrhea all over Da Silvano last year — has now offended Oprah loving housewives around the world, claiming that the late Princess Diana was "nasty" and little more than a "womb." [Page Six]
• Photographer Dave LaChapelle claims that Jessica and Ashlee Simpson are "everything that's wrong with music." Way to go out on a limb there, dude. [Lowdown]
• Great news for The Gays: Pop singer Kylie Minogue has undergone surgery and chemo for breast cancer and, according to sister Danii, is doing well. [IOL]
• Kanye West isn't the only one noting that George Bush is pigementally-challenged. [R&M]
• And, of course, the devastating inadequacy of the federal response to Hurricane Katrina sure does look like a promising project for documentary filmmaker Michael Moore. [Scoop]

In the latest installment of his BBC radio broadcast, Tina Brown's beloved poolboy, Harold Evans, continues to express his bright-eyed and bushy-tailed optimism for the American way, even despite the current headlines. Rather than continue with more Hurricane Katrina coverage, Evans rehashes the childhood fairy tale of the Princess and the toad as an explanation for gang rape, Supreme Court nominee John Roberts, and federal power. Duh. After the jump, Henry the Intern deciphers Harold's accent and mixed metaphors.

After five long weeks of commentary, Tina Brown's marital warden Sir Harold Evans finally took his weekly BBC show where we truly wanted to go: Long Island! More specifically, Harry prattled on about the rich American tradition of "summering" and the yearly Manhattan exodus to the Hamptons. But Harry and Tina are trailblazers, mind you, and they needn't play by the rules of Amagansett or East Hampton. Instead, you'll find them holed up in a clapboard beach home in Quogue, a town Harry prefers for its literary WASPiness. Because the Hamptons are an ethnic hotbed, obviously. After the jump, Henry the Intern gives his weekly report on Evans' weekly ramble.

It's Day Two of Sean Penn's week-long hostage situation over at the San Francisco Chronicle, during which the hyperbolic actor has forced the newspaper's poor editors to run his reports from time spent in Iran. But it's worth the effort, because you can trust Sean Penn to put on his Ernie Pyle costume and tell us what we really need to know. Brace yourself for the intensity:

We often spend our afternoons in seclusion, where we can have the peace and quiet necessary to effectively brainstorm and think of the most insane possibilities for what might be Courtney Love's next headline. In all of our creative sessions, however, we never once got so fucked up as to imagine today's news: Courtney Love is claiming to be pregnant with the baby of British actor Steve Coogan, who's best known for his portrayal of fictional radio loser Alan Partridge.

We've been ignoring Tara Reid's attempt to elevate her boozehound status to international, live-action levels with her new E! television travel series, Wild on Tara. (Frankly, Wild On... has never been the same since Jules Asner left, and we can only stomach so many shots of Reid's malformed stomach.) But last night, as we turned on our talking box and flipped through TWC's tasty offerings, we noticed E! was airing something called Taradise.

With utter disregard for real news or succinct headlines.

Not to be outdone by P. Diddy's announcement that he is, from now on, simply "Diddy," Madonna has once again reinvented herself. As a victim.

Because we were always wondering what a jet looks like before it crashes.

In this week's installment of Sir Harold Evans' BBC radio show, the man of Tina Brown's house asserts himself as a forward-thinking soul, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed during even the dark days of American politics. Or, you know, he could just be completely nave. Henry the Intern withholds such judgment and, after the jump, reports on Harry's musings on the intelligent design of Americana.

Another weekend, another fireside chat with the Tina Brown's zookeeper and editor-at-large of The Week, Sir Harold Evans. As we've mentioned, Evans is doing a weekly radio broadcast on BBC4 in the vein of Alistair Cooke's Letter from America series. Naturally, this is the sort of hard reporting Henry the Intern was made for. In our latest installment of Weekends with Harry, we learn the Evans-Brown clan loves vacationing on a Arizona cattle ranch. After the jump, Henry indulges all of your cowboy fantasies.

CNN via ITN: Security alert on a London bus near King's Cross, somewhere on Gray's Inn Road (a very busy area). Traffic has been stopped, the nearby tube station has been evacuated, and "a lot of police around the area."

It began last Friday morning as a dream, but by Sunday night it was a reality: Harold Evans, the brave marital keeper of Tina Brown, debuted his weekly "fireside chat" on BBC Radio 4. Designed as a replacement to Alistair Cooke's long-running Letter from America segment, Evans took 8 minutes of Henry the Intern's time to tell of life as an ex-pat. After the jump, Henry returns to fine form with a recap of Evans' opinions on political life suppot, delivered with a funny accent and multisyllabic finesse.

Served as editor of the UK Times and Sunday Times. Former president and publisher of Random House. Editor-at-large of The Week magazine. Faithful husband and houseboy to Her Media Highness Tina Brown. Isn't the plate of Harold Evans full enough as is?

A reader from across the pond gives us a glimpse at what will surely be the future of MTA security. Now it's going to take even longer to get to Queens.

Since our trust in Matt and Katie and the Today gang is slowly waning, a reader in London emails with the local BBC reports:

More bad news from across the pond: It's being reported that three subways stations in London have been evacuated and there is possible some sort of bus incident on Hackney Road. Reports are beyond sketchy, but apparently there were gunshots heard on the platform of the Warren station (which, located in central London, is very close to the Kings Cross station where last week's trauma went down). One London outlet is reporting that a passenger has phoned in to say that some sort of "nail bomb" on went off on a platform, while another report claims that a passenger was wearing a backpack that may have exploded and then filled the train with smoke.

The day of glory has indeed arrived: It's Bastille Day, and, though we know we shouldn't give the Post this ammunition, it's by far our favorite national holiday. (Have you ever listened to The Marseillaise? How could it not make you want to storm the nearest Bastille?)

• The Range Rover driven by Prince Charles during his honeymoon with Princess Diana was put up on eBay yesterday, then abruptly removed after the terror attacks for fear of being insensitive. Rightfully so, but wasn't it just as insensitive before the bombs went off? [Page Six]
• Lloyd Grove asks, "Is there a more exquisite form of torture than hand-washing Fabian Basabe's underpants?" Yes, Lloyd, and it involves your underpants. [Lowdown (last item)]
• Brad Pitt and George Clooney sign on to build another, much-needed Vegas casino. Then they'll concoct an elaborate scheme for a major heist and rob themselves blind. [Page Six]
• Robert Trump, tired of living in the shadow of his bombastic brother Donald, is gearing up for his own high-profile divorce from his wife of 20 years, Blaine. [Gatecrasher]

When it's a hungover Sunday afternoon and you realize you managed to spend — without trying very hard at all — 80 bucks the night before on dive-bar beers, plus another $20 or so on cabs, and all you want to do is order in some greasy food, but you know that will end up costing $15 just for a burger and fries, and you remember the rent's due Monday, and you'll have to scrape together $1,500 for your tiny, ugly studio apartment, and you wonder why the fuck you chose such a ridiculously expensive city to live in, you can take solace in this: There are a dozen places in the world more expensive than New York, and at least you don't live in any of them.