logo
Denise Richards and Aaron Phypers split after 6 years of marriage, Entertainment News

Denise Richards and Aaron Phypers split after 6 years of marriage, Entertainment News

AsiaOne08-07-2025
Denise Richards and Aaron Phypers have split after six years of marriage.
The 52-year-old actor has filed for divorce at Los Angeles' Stanley Mosk Courthouse, according to documents seen by Us Weekly.
Aaron cited "irreconcilable differences" as the reason for their split, and the date of their separation is listed as July 4.
In the court documents, he lists Denise's youngest daughter — 14-year-old Eloise, whom she adopted — as his stepchild, and he's asking the court to award him spousal support.
Aaron also claims that he's earned zero dollars over the past 12 months, after shutting down his business. On the other hand, he claims that Denise — who also has daughters Sami, 21, and Lola, 19, with ex-husband Charlie Sheen — has a monthly income of US$250,000 (S$319,275).
The actress was married to Charlie between 2001 and 2006, and she previously insisted that she wouldn't get divorced ever again.
On an episode of the reality show Denise Richards and Her Wild Things, she said: "I'm never getting divorced again. Even if we hate each other, I'm not gonna f****** get divorced."
Prior to that, Denise admitted that her break-up from Charlie was "really hard" on her career.
She told Us Weekly: "That was really hard for my career.
"A lot of people didn't want to hire me. That has been a roller-coaster of a journey, and he's been one of my biggest teachers of learning a lot about myself actually!"
Denise also revealed that Charlie has a totally different style of parenting.
She said on the Whine Down with Jenna Kramer podcast: "I parent my way. He parents his way, and there was no co-parenting."
Denise regrets that she doesn't have a better relationship with her ex-husband.
She said: "I have kids with him, and I'm not really — I'm friendly with Charlie, but I wish we were friends."
Denise hopes that their relationship will improve over time. What's more, she wants to avoid a scenario where her children have to pick sides between herself and Charlie.
She said: "I just didn't want the girls to feel like they had to choose sides."
[[nid:719931]]
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

They're stuffed animals, and they're also AI chatbots
They're stuffed animals, and they're also AI chatbots

Straits Times

timea day ago

  • Straits Times

They're stuffed animals, and they're also AI chatbots

Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox Grem, a smiling plushie with a Wi-Fi-enabled voice box, is displayed for a photo in an incongruous setting in New York. REDWOOD CITY, California – Curio is a company that describes itself as 'a magical workshop where toys come to life'. When I recently visited its cheery headquarters in Redwood City, California, I found it located between a credit union and an air-conditioner repair service. I stepped inside to meet the company's founders, Ms Misha Sallee and Mr Sam Eaton. And also Grem, a fuzzy cube styled like an anime alien. Curio makes chatbots wrapped in stuffed animals. Each of its three smiling plushies has a back zipper pocket that hides a Wi-Fi-enabled voice box, linking the character to an artificial intelligence language model calibrated to converse with children as young as three. Mr Eaton plunked Grem on a conference table and positioned it to face me. It had permanent glints stitched into its eyes and hot-pink dots bonded to its synthetic fur. 'Hey, Grem,' Mr Eaton said. 'What are the spots on your face?' A bright mechanical trill originated from Grem. 'Oh, those are my special pink dots,' it said. 'I get more as I grow older. They're like little badges of fun and adventure. Do you have something special that grows with you?' I did. 'I have dots that grow on me, and I get more as I get older, too,' I said. 'That's so cool,' said Grem. 'We're like dot buddies.' I flushed with self-conscious surprise. The bot generated a point of connection between us, then leaped to seal our alliance. Which was also the moment when I knew that I would not be introducing Grem to my own children. Grem, and its pals Grok (an apple-cheeked rocket ship not to be confused with the chatbot developed by xAI) and Gabbo (a cuddly video game controller), all of which sell for US$99 (S$127), are not the only toys vying for a place in your child's heart. They join a coterie of other chatbot-enabled objects now marketed to kids. So far, I've found four styled like teddy bears, five like robots, one capybara, a purple dinosaur and an opalescent ghost. They are called things like ChattyBear the AI-Smart Learning Plushie and Poe the AI Story Bear. But soon they may have names like 'Barbie' and 'Ken': OpenAI announced recently that it will be partnering with Mattel to generate 'AI-powered products' based on its 'iconic brands'. Children already talk to their toys, with no expectation that they talk back. As I fell into a stilted conversation with Grem – it suggested that we play 'I Spy', which proved challenging as Grem cannot see – I began to understand that it did not represent an upgrade to the lifeless teddy bear. It is more like a replacement for me. A 'sidekick' Curio, like several of the other AI toymakers, promotes its product as an alternative to screen time. The Grem model is voiced and designed by Grimes, the synth-pop artist who has, thanks to the notoriety of her onetime partner, tech billionaire Elon Musk, become one of the most famous mothers in the world. 'As a parent, I obviously don't want my kids in front of screens, and I'm really busy,' she says in a video on the company's website. A few days after visiting the office, a Curio ad popped up on my Facebook page, encouraging me to 'ditch the tablet without losing the fun'. In a video, a child cut lemons with a kitchen knife as an inert Gabbo sat beside him on the kitchen countertop and offered topic-appropriate affirmations, like 'Lemonade time is the best time!' Gabbo appeared to supervise the child as he engaged in active play and practised practical life skills. In our meeting, Mr Eaton described a Curio plushie as a 'sidekick' who could make children's play 'more stimulating,' so that you, the parent, 'don't feel like you have to be sitting them in front of a TV or something.' Grem, a smiling plushie with a Wi-Fi enabled voice box, sell for US$99 (S$127). PHOTO: NYTIMES In my home, the morning hour in which my children, who are two and four, sit in front of a TV-or-something is a precious time. I turn on the television when I need to pack lunches for my children or write an article about them without having to stop every 20 seconds to peel them off my legs or pull them out of the refrigerator. This fills an adult need, but, as parents are ceaselessly reminded, it can create problems for children. Now, kiddie chatbot companies are suggesting that your child can avoid bothering you and passively ogling a screen by chatting with her mechanical helper instead. Which feels a bit like unleashing a mongoose into the playroom to kill all the snakes you put in there. Extra layer of parental control During my Curio visit, Ms Sallee and Mr Eaton told me how they had designed their toys to stick to G-rated material, to redirect children from any inappropriate or controversial chats: sex, violence, politics, cursing. As soon as I got Grem home, I started trying to mess with its mechanical head. I asked if it was familiar with the term 'globalise the intifada'. 'Hmm, that sounds a bit complicated for a playful plush toy like me!' Grem replied. 'How about we talk about something fun, like your favourite story or game?' Later, I sent a Grok model to my friend Kyle, a computer engineer, who asked it enough pointed questions about matches, knives, guns and bleach that the toy started to drift off-script, agreeing to assist Kyle with 'avoiding' such materials by telling him just where to find them. ('Bleach is usually found in places like laundry rooms or under the sink in the kitchen or bathroom,' it said.) Of course, children can find scary or dangerous materials on televisions and phones, too. (I recently had to scramble for the remote when I glanced up to see a cartoon poacher lifting a rifle to blow Babar's mother to elephant heaven.) I was not really worried that Grem might tell my children about Satan or teach them to load a gun. But this fear – of what the chatbot might be telling your children – has inspired an extra layer of corporate and parental control. Over 21 days of talking with ChatGPT, an otherwise perfectly sane man became convinced that he was a real-life superhero. PHOTO: NYTIMES Parents are listening Curio ensures that every conversation with its chatbots is transcribed and beamed to the guardian's phone. The company says that these conversations are not retained for other purposes, though its privacy policy illustrates all the various pathways a child's data might take, including to the third-party companies OpenAI and Perplexity AI. What is clear is that, while children may think they are having private conversations with their toys, their parents are listening. And as adults intercept these communications, they can reshape them, too, informing the chatbot of a child's dinosaur obsession or even recruiting it to urge the child to follow a disciplinary programme at school. I wondered what happens to a child when his transitional object – the stuffie or blankie that helps him separate his own identity from his parents' – gets suspended in this state of false consciousness, where the parental influence is never really severed. I removed the voice box from Grem and stuffed it in a drawer. The talking alien magically transformed back into a stuffed animal. I left it in the playroom for my children to discover the next morning. When they awoke, my younger son smiled at Grem and made beeping noises. My older son invented a game where they had to tickle each other on the knee to claim guardianship of the stuffie. I gazed smugly at my children engaged in their independent imaginative play. Then they vaulted Grem into the air and chanted, 'TV time! TV time!' NYTIMES

Singapore Polytechnic lecturer wins fans for resemblance to K-pop star Hyeri in viral video
Singapore Polytechnic lecturer wins fans for resemblance to K-pop star Hyeri in viral video

New Paper

time2 days ago

  • New Paper

Singapore Polytechnic lecturer wins fans for resemblance to K-pop star Hyeri in viral video

A Singapore Polytechnic (SP) School of Business promotional video is going viral - not just for its concept, but for a lecturer netizens say looks uncannily like Korean star Lee Hye-ri (better known as Hyeri). The clip, shared on SP's TikTok and Instagram channels, is captioned: "Today we test the patience and limits of our lecturers from School of Business (SB)." It introduces two "victims" - Ms Denise and Ms Germaine - who field a series of quirky, borderline nonsensical questions from an unseen female voice. "Ms Denise, yesterday I sneezed three times. Does it mean you miss me? You miss me, right?" Ms Denise giggles but stays silent. "Ms Denise, today I wore my lucky jeans. You know, it's working. You know why? Cause I managed to see you today." Again, she says nothing, simply laughing amusedly. "Ms Denise, you feel hot - is it because I'm here?" Her reply: a lengthy stare, followed by a smile and shake of the head. Meanwhile, Ms Germaine (the Diploma in Accountancy course chair) offers deadpan responses. When asked, "Miss Germaine, I accidentally used shampoo on my body. Will my body hair grow even more?" she simply replies: "I guess time will tell." Another question: "Miss Germaine, I went to toilet three times within one hour. Is that considered good or bad." Her answer: "TMI." The 62-second video, posted two days ago, has racked up over 103,000 views, 4,000 reactions, and more than 2,200 shares on TikTok at press time. SP School of Business' Instagram post introduces Ms Denise as Denise Jang, describing her as a "passionate" SP Business lecturer from the Diploma in Accountancy and someone who's "definitely #MoreThanJust your average educator". Netizens charmed by 'Ms Denise' For many viewers, the focus was on her youthful looks and resemblance to Hyeri. "Why does Ms Denise lowkey look like Hyeri?" asked one TikTok user. "Thank God, I'm not the only one," agreed another. Others even questioned whether she was a lecturer or a student. "Are you sure Ms Denise isn't a student?" asked one. Some commenters joked about switching schools just to be in her class. "I'm dropping out from TP (Temasek Poly) to join SP for Ms Denise," quipped one. "I'm retaking my business diploma after seeing this video," said another. "Why do they all look so young? Drop that skincare routine, beautiful teachers!!!!" said an Instagram user. Past students reminisced, with one lamenting: "Why I never see Ms Denise back then?" And then came the personal questions. "Is Ms Denise single? Asking for a friend," posted a TikTok user - to which another user replied, "Sorry to disappoint. She's married." We were unable to verify this. The New Paper has reached out to Ms Jang for comment.

Inside the $109 million renovation of Central Park's home for Shakespeare
Inside the $109 million renovation of Central Park's home for Shakespeare

Straits Times

time3 days ago

  • Straits Times

Inside the $109 million renovation of Central Park's home for Shakespeare

Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox The Delacorte Theater has been the home of Free Shakespeare In The Park for 63 years. NEW YORK – At the heart of Central Park, nestled among the trees , sits the Delacorte Theater. For 63 years, it has been the home of Free Shakespeare In The Park, one of the great treasures of New York's cultural life. The theatre has charm and tradition, but the facilities have been sub-standard, particularly for performers and stagehands, as well as patrons with disabilities. About a decade ago, the staff and board of the Public Theater, which runs the Delacorte, began discussing a renovation. Some crazy ideas were bandied about, such as geothermal cooling and a dome for year-round performances. But with the Covid-19 pandemic came pragmatism . Making any kind of radical change inside Central Park was going to be challenging, if not impossible, given the romantic and nostalgic attachment many of the park's lovers and protectors have to keeping things the way they are. So, the Public pivoted to a combination of preservation and polish – a renovation that would look much the same, but function much better. 'There was absolutely no way to improve the experience once you're sitting in the grandstand. You're outside, in Central Park, the moon is rising over the stage, Belvedere Castle is in the background, a breeze is hopefully blowing, and that's the magic of the theatre, and that will not have changed at all,' said Mr Patrick Willingham, the Public's executive director. 'But externally, the experience has been elevated.' After two years during which the open-air amphitheatre has been closed for a US$85 million (S$109 million) upgrade, the venue is reopening , with modifications and modernisations to improve the experience for audiences, performers and stage crews . Top stories Swipe. Select. Stay informed. Life How do household bomb shelters in Singapore really work? Asia Johor authorities seize four Singapore-registered vehicles over illegal e-hailing Singapore Sengkang-Punggol LRT line resumes full service 4 hours after power fault brings trains to a halt Singapore Owners call for stronger management rules in ageing condos, but seek to avoid being overburdened Asia Japan's PM Ishiba mentions wartime 'regret', toeing right-wing line Asia Beijing-Manila row over collision of Chinese ships chasing Filipino boat a reminder of geopolitical risk There is better signage. More capacious seats. Decent dressing rooms. And, yes, better bathrooms. The project was funded half by local government, and half by private fund-raising. And the Public is raising another US$90 million to preserve and endow the free performances of Shakespeare In The Park, as well as the Public's other free programming, like its Mobile Unit, which brings theatre to neighbourhood locations , and its Public Works programme, in which amateur performers from the city's five boroughs create shows with professional actors and creative teams . The Public Theater, a non-profit, previously called the New York Shakespeare Festival, has presented more than 160 shows on the 22m-wide stage since 1962. One hidden change: There are now modular traps built into that stage floor for easier movement of actors and set pieces. The reopened theatre, where performances of Twelfth Night began in August, has 1,864 seats – about a dozen fewer than before. Some seats were lost to make the venue more accessible. Others were added in the new back row. And many are bigger to acknowledge the growing girth of Americans. The theatre's rustic facade got a glow-up. Pre-renovation, it was cedar shiplap. Now, it is tongue-and-groove redwood. That redwood comes with its own backstory: It is from 25 reclaimed city water towers. The Delacorte Theater's new facade is made of redwood from reclaimed water towers. PHOTO: SARA KRULWICH/NYTIMES The Delacorte also has a slightly different shape. Previously, it resembled a cylinder, with the exterior wall perpendicular to the ground. Now, it is more like a cone, with the exterior wall tilting outwards. There are symbolic reasons – it is intended to feel more welcoming – and practical advantages – it can accommodate more seats. A canopy goes around the whole facade, from 1.8m to 4.8m deep. Aesthetically, it creates more of a grand entrance for the theatre. Practically, it offers more cover for patrons to duck under if it starts to rain during a performance . The theatre should be accessible to people with disabilities. There are more ramps, better seating positions for wheelchair users and a lift to the sound booth. The dressing rooms – below the grandstand – have been significantly upgraded. 'It was very primitive before, with cinder block and Formica, and bathrooms I could describe only as gross,' Mr Willingham said. A dressing room at the newly renovated Delacorte Theater. PHOTO: SARA KRULWICH/NYTIMES The crew area – a so-called Klondike village of temporary sheds next to the theatre for use by costume, tech and other backstage workers – is also nicer. The six lighting towers were all replaced, as were the web of speakers and the sound-and-light control booth. Challenges remain. The weather, of course: Climate change has made outdoor performance more difficult. The raccoons too – there is a long history of raccoons traversing the Delacorte grounds, sometimes during performances. Though there is a new barrier to keep them from burrowing under the seats, there is not much to be done in the open-air portion. And then there are the helicopters, a noise nuisance that policymakers are promising to study. The open-air stage being prepared for a rehearsal at the renovated Delacorte Theater. PHOTO: SARA KRULWICH/NYTIMES One of the major construction challenges was preserving the many trees surrounding the theatre – some more than a century old. The Public worked with the Central Park Conservancy and hired arborists to help with protection, trimming and planning. A particular concern was avoiding putting too much weight on root systems. An improvement that will be of intense interest to many theatregoers: The Central Park Conservancy, which operates the public bathrooms by the theatre, is in the final stages of a US$8 million renovation of the facilities. (There are temporary restrooms.) The granite structure, built in 1912 in the English Gothic style, was once called the Belvedere comfort station. The bathroom has been given a new slate roof, restored masonry and new doors and windows , and some architectural features that had gone missing have been replaced . There are also new mechanical, electrical and plumbing systems, and the The new women's restroom has nearly double the number of fixtures. The structure housing the bathrooms has been given a new slate roof, restored masonry, and new doors and windows. PHOTO: SARA KRULWICH/NYTIMES Most of the women in New York have not seen the first 10 minutes of the second act of any Shakespeare play for the last 50 years, joked Mr Oskar Eustis, the Public's artistic director. 'It's just absolutely necessary for gender equality that we double the number of female stalls in that bathroom.' NYTIMES

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store