Something tells me that Ms. Frizzle’s latest trip into LiLo’s body wasn’t quite as accidental as she would like us to believe. – Staxcellence
It rubs the yolk on it’s skin, or else it gets the rock again. – annobanano
Looking under a microscope, even Kanye’s molecules are unbalanced & angry! – Coffy
Ann Morgan Guilbert is an 85-year-old seasoned actress who’s been in the game since before some of us were lounging around inside our daddy’s testicles. She was Mary Tyler Moore’s best friend and neighbor in dozens of episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show and in the 90s she played Fran’s sequins-embedded nana of perfection, Grandma Yetta, on The Nanny. Grandma Yetta defined “swag” and any use of that overused word that doesn’t pertain to her ass is null, void and doesn’t count.
Ann is currently in my favorite show to get drunk to Getting On on HBO. Because the US is Lady CaCa to Britain’s Madonna when it comes to TV shows, Getting On is based on the British show by the same name. It’s about all the fuckery that goes on in the women’s extended-care ward of a hospital in Long Beach, CA. Some critics shat all over it and it probably won’t be back for a second season, but I’m into it, because it has old people, Laurie Metcalf, Niecy Nash, Alex Borstein from MADtv and Telma Hopkins. What more could I want?
In Getting On, Ann Guilbert plays Birdy, a horny patient in the ward who loves to get her fuck on.
On last night’s episode, Birdy’s man friend (played by Harry Dean Stanton) comes to visit and she gets in trouble for fucking him in her room and blowing him in the lounge. No, I don’t want to end up in an extended care-ward, but I do want to be Birdy when I enter the Polident phase of life. None of us should be afraid of getting old if getting old means that one day we’ll get to blow Repo Man in a hospital waiting room.
Kirk Douglas (97)
McKayla Maroney (18)
Simon Helberg (33)
Jesse Metcalfe (35)
Imogen Heap (36)
Tré Cool (41)
Kara DioGuardi (43)
Jakob Dylan (44)
Kirsten Gillibrand (47)
Felicity Huffman (51)
Mario Cantone (54)
Donny Osmond (56)
John Malkovich (60)
Joan Armatrading (63)
Michael Nouri (68)
Dick Butkus (71)
Beau Bridges (72)
Dame Judi Dench (79)
Buck Henry (83)
Dick Van Patten (85)
Because those holy toy hoarders already bought all of the toys in Sydney, they went out to buy books and groceries instead yesterday. RIP all the books and groceries in Sydney, because it’s only a matter of time before this child army buys ‘em all. While Maddox and Pax were pranking Brad Pitt by switching his stash of the good shit with laxatives-laced oregano (he couldn’t tell the difference), St. Angie Jolie and her Crypt Keeper arms took Zahara, Shiloh and the chosen ones out to buy shit in Sydney. Some hos took out their phones to capture this holy moment in history that is more important than Moses parting that sea. The dude in the green tank top is probably wondering why all of his pictures have only five bright shining rings of light in them. Dude doesn’t know that you need a special camera to capture the holy family in their human form.
Shiloh and the chosen ones (that’s their future band name) look like three mini Brad Pitt clones. Actually, Vivienne looks like something that grew in Reese Witherspoon’s womb, so I wouldn’t be surprised if St. Angie appeared in a cloud of black smoke in the delivery room and snatched that girl right out of Laura Jeanne Poon’s poon.
And as always, Zahara is expressing my thoughts and feeling about everything.
Well, it looks like this week is all about trashy douche infections thinking they’re Don Corleone or some shit. First, crackie crime boss Lindsay Lohan masterminded a face-punching beat down on Wonky McValtrex’s little brother and now ultimate ass wart Shia LaDouche allegedly threatened to put a hit out on a dude during a fight in a restaurant.
The Sun (via DM) says that Shia continues to terrorize the UK while filming that Fury movie with Brad Pitt. LaDouche was having dinner at some fancy restaurant in London’s Covent Garden when a fan came up to him to tell him what a fan she is, I guess. That’s where ho went wrong. Interrupting LaDouche while he’s sipping on booze or eating is like interrupting my chihuahua while he’s nibbling on a Snausage. Bitch will growl. Bitch will show teeth. Bitch will drool out saliva strings of rage. Bitch will snap at your hand. Bitch will get lipstick while doing all of that.
A source says that the fan’s conversation with Shia ended with her leaving his table in tears. So either Shia was a throbbing cunt to her or the realization that she’s the only Shia LaDouche fan on earth hit her hard and unexpectedly. A quick second later, the fan’s boyfriend came at Shia and they got into it. The source says that Shia “looked out of control” and screamed, “I can get you killed,” before he was kicked out of the restaurant.
“I can get you killed…” Bitch, you ain’t Renee Graziano, your life ain’t Mob Wives and VH1′s cameras ain’t following you around everywhere. Shia can’t get even himself showered properly and he’s talking about how he’s going to get a dude killed. If he really wanted to inflict serious pain and mental suffering on his restaurant rival, he would’ve given that dude free tickets to see the 4-hour-long torture art porn he’s in.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to order my fist to punch my head for feeling feelings other than “heave” and “barf” while looking at that picture of Shia LaDouche. He looks like he smells like an ass jelly and dick cheese sandwich. Or like a queef trapped in a fart. And yet I look at him looking like he has the meth sweats and I still say, “I would and I would hard.” I have a disease.
When Jay-Z announced that he was going vegan for 22 days, he wrote a blog post about spirituality and numerology and plants, and then slid in an awkward footnote about Beyoncé that said: “P.S. B is joining me”. Well, it looks like he forgot to add “…but it wasn’t her idea, so she’ll fight me every step of the way” because Bey has been seen wearing as much Meat Is Murder couture as Tina can carry over in her House of Deréon-branded Chevy Astro van. Cow shirts, pizza pants, fur collars, whatever endangered animal she makes her lace fronts out of; Bey is channeling her inner Exclamation, because she’s making a statement without saying a word. And that statement is “this vegan diet is bullshit”.
Gandhioncé brought her non-violent protest to lunch with Jay-Z the other day at vegetarian restaurant Crossroads. By the way, I checked – it is NOT a Crossroads-themed restaurant; go ahead and cancel those reservations. And write Britney all your letters asking her to open a Crossroads-themed restaurant (I’m sure Taryn Manning would be interested in a server position).
Beyoncé has taken civil disobedience to a whole ‘notha level; everything she’s wearing is animals. Alpaca weave, cow shirt, leather pants, leather heels; the only way she could have piled on more dead animals is if she was also wearing the minotaur head from American Horror Story: Coven. Frankly, at the rate she’s going, Bey will eventually run out of subtle animal/meat clothes to wear during her Fuck You, Jay fashion tour and start wearing actual obvious shit; cut to Day 16 when Beyoncé shows up to lunch in Blake’s bear coat from Workaholics. That’ll show him!! Nobody makes Queen B do what Queen B don’t wanna do!
(Pics via Wenn)
I was going to put money on Lindsay Lohan being found in a seedy motel at the age of 95 when her time came, surrounded by cigarette butts and with so much coke on her face it looks like Johnny Knoxville high-fived it, but if Paris Hilton gets her way, Lindsay will be found with a stiletto in her back the size of a Greenpeace boat much sooner. Last night, Paris’s brother Barron posted a pic of his busted face following the beat down allegedly orchestrated by Lindsay and possibly carried out by a dude named Ray Lemoine. Paris posted a comment vowing payback.
Oooh, nobody fucks with a Hilton! (“We wish”- The Center For Disease Control, Herpes Division.) Normally, I wouldn’t side with Paris on anything, but if she can get some form of punishment to stick to Lindsay’s Teflon-coated no-ass, I’d at least acknowledge that she was able to succeed where the California justice system has failed 937 times.
While Paris lounges in Miami with Brandon Davis, flipping through her 2005 “Bitches Who Had My Back” scrapbook for allies, Lindsay posted a picture of herself on Instagram using the hashtags “#honestfunandfriends” and “(good people) and no more bad folk” but deleted it within half an hour. Bitch should go on the road and do stand up talking about that shit because she wouldn’t know honesty if it showed her the money beforehand!
Corgi on a Carousel! Corgi on a Carousel! Corgi on a Carousel!
The sweet nectar gods took mercy on my body and didn’t strike me down with a hangover this morning, so I was able to watch all 4 and a half minutes of this HIGHLY TALENTED Corgi named Meatball running around on a backyard merry-go-round without getting the dizzies and barfing up the pank wine I guzzled down last night. (Yes, I said pink wine. I drank like a refined Sarasota, FL retiree last night.)
We can all relate to this shit, because aren’t we all just a stubby-legged Corgi barking like crazy while running around the endless circle known as life?
THE QUEEN’s ladies-in-waiting have been given the day off and have told the rest of the staff to not knock on her bedchamber door, because this is her porn and she needs some quality alone time with it.
Ian Somerhalder (35)
AnnaSophia Robb (20)
Kate Voegele (27)
Nicki Minaj (29)
Chrisette Michele (31)
Elsa Benítez (36)
Dominic Monaghan (37)
Nick Zinner (39)
Tyler Mane (47)
Sinead O’Connor (47)
Teri Hatcher (49)
Ann Coulter (52)
Phil Collen (56)
Deborra-Lee Furness (58)
Kim Basinger (60)
Rick Baker (63)
Nancy Meyers (64)
Gregg Allman (66)
John Rubenstein (67)
Graciela Daniele (74)
James Galway (74)
As long as Rebecca Black is on the YouTube stroll, no day of the week is safe. Two years after Patrice Wilson sucked the youth of her, Rebecca Black has a new song called “Saturday” and it’s kind of like a sober version of “We Can’t Stop.” I once went to a party thrown by a bunch of straight edges and no booze or drugs were allowed. That party was a billion times more exciting and scandalous than the party going on in this mess of a video. The good news is that “Saturday” isn’t burning the walls of my ears and burrowing itself into my brain the same way “Friday” did. The bad news is that Rebecca Black will probably fart out 5 more songs. I’m guessing that for “Sunday” she’ll sing about going to church and brunch at IHOP and Kanye (aka our own Yeezus) will rap on it. But what I want to know is which day does she take a vow of silence?
And why did the black guy have to get arrested at the end? If the cops wanted to arrest a black guy they should’ve arrested Patrice Wilson for starting all of this.