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Nothing Personal
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Ricky Martin, traitor
Singing at Dubya's inauguration is selling out his heritage, says the Puerto Rican singer's producer; and Simon Le Bon explains his swollen testicle. Plus: Madonna's wedding makes Scotland a material world.

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By Amy Reiter

Jan. 16, 2001 | Robi Rosa's cup of life is beginning to boil again.

You may recall that Rosa, Ricky Martin's cowriter and producer, denounced the use of his song "The Cup of Life" at the Republican National Convention as a sneaky, underhanded and "perverse" way for the party to ingratiate itself to the Latino community. So it's no surprise that Rosa is none too pleased that Martin plans to perform the song at George W. Bush's inauguration.




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"Singing 'The Cup of Life' at George Bush's inauguration is like playing the fiddle while Rome burns," Rosa says. "This is a very partisan act. This is a president who would have people in his Cabinet who would obstruct the exercise of civil rights, human rights, consumer rights, the right to choose, the right to be free of gun violence and the right to a clean environment. This is a betrayal of everything that every Puerto Rican should stand for."

Put that in your bon-bon and shake it.

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Oh, nuts!

"I went over the handlebars. My ball swelled up like a grapefruit and split."

-- Duran Duran's Simon Le Bon all-too-vividly describing a testicle-damaging motorcycle crash on a British TV show aimed at raising cancer awareness called "Better Mind Your Bollocks."

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Dirty-dancin' Dennis

Is Dennis Quaid getting the last laugh?

Rumors that Meg Ryan is nursing a bitterly broken heart after being unceremoniously dumped by Russell Crowe are swirling ever thicker. ("Meg's a mess ... She cries herself to sleep," one friend has blabbed to the press.) But the man Ryan herself left in the dust is apparently kicking up his heels.

In what has become a male-celebrity rite of passage signaling the end of mourning, Quaid (like Paul McCartney and others before him) spent an evening tossing back the beverages and dancing on the babe-friendly, bra-decorated bar at New York's Hogs & Heifers Wednesday night.

"He was just rocking out. He was up there for two songs. He didn't want to get down," bartender Amy Mazzarisi told the New York Post, adding that Quaid flirted until the wee hours of the morning. "I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He playfully bit my ear."

Alarmed, Mazzarisi exclaimed, "Hey, you're a married man." To which, she says, Quaid triumphantly replied, "Don't you read the tabloids? I'm divorced."

Well, separated anyway.

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Married to the mob, one by one

"Frankly, I'd like to have a different husband every week, too."

-- CBS president Nancy Tellem, responding to Bette Midler's request that a different actor play her husband on TV each week.

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Juicy bits

The U.S. economy may be hitting the skids, but the Scots are rolling in it thanks to Madonna and Guy Ritchie. The marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Material -- along with the baptism of their baby Rocco and the accompanying media madness -- pumped nearly $4 million into the country, according to the Scottish Parliament's Minister for the Highlands. Cha-ching!

And speaking of paydays ... those of you who've been waiting nearly 40 years to get your hands on Ursula Andress's bikini are in luck. At 64, the former Bond girl has apparently decided she has little use for the cotton two-piece she wore in the 1962 flick "Dr. No," and so the suit will be auctioned off next month along with other Bond memorabilia on the block at Christie's in London. "This bikini made me into a success," said Andress. It is also expected to make her upwards of $75,000.

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Miss something? Read yesterday's Nothing Personal.


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About the writer
Amy Reiter is a senior writer for Salon People. For more columns by Amy Reiter, visit her column archive.

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