Thirty seconds after this picture of Posh Spice glumly sashaying through LAX was taken, the paparazzi turned into piles of skin and blood dust when they asked her about Kim Kartrashian getting the cover of Vogue - Lainey Gossip
Uncle Terry must’ve saved the pictures where he jizzes in Lindsay Lohan’s eye for himself – Drunken Stepfather
Johnny Depp smokes a thousand cigarettes a day – Celebitchy
Someone turned Juan Pablo Galavis into a douche-tini by throwing alcohol on him – Reality Tea
Lea Michele’s left nipple came out for the kids – The Superficial
OkCupid tells Firefox users that they should look for ass on their site through another browser since Mozilla’s new CEO doesn’t want to let gay marriage be great – Towleroad
Bella Thorne looks like she’s shooting a scene for To Catch A Predator – Hollywood Tuna
File this under: Engagement ring of a nobody that looks like it came directly from Claire’s – IDLYITW
Well, I guess somebody’s gotta open for Dream in the Walmart parking lot concert series – HuffPo
Lindsay Lohan claims she was almost cast in the Avengers movie, but I think she’s confusing the Avengers feature film for the Avengers parody porn – Jezebel
Sadness is me realizing real quick that these are not pictures of Bai Ling – Popoholic
Give hos something to be moist about, Mickey! – ICYDK
If one of the selfies was of The Hammaconda winking at its iPhone, all points would go to Mad Men – Pajiba
All of these looks would still beat John Travolta’s wig in a hair beauty pageant – The Berry
Presenting Doogie Howser as Hedwig – OMG Blog
If you e-mail me tonight, you may get an automated reply that reads: DO NOT DISTURB, I am currently doing highly important research like looking for a visible peen print on ASKars’ crotch in these pictures – Just Jared
The hipster Alfalfa goes to the movies with his piece – Popsugar
Emma Thompson’s earrings look like anal beads for Barbies – SOW
Tommy Girl was honored as Legend Of Our Lifetime (they spelled “Legend In His Own Mind” wrong) at the Empire Film Awards in London last night, and he showed up with a luscious wave of boy bangs covering up his forehead. I’m going to guess that Tommy got banged, because of a Botox-gone-wrong situation or he got a bruise from getting dick slapped in the forehead. (Any Scientologist will tell you that one of the quickest ways to remove body thetans is to beat them with a hard dick.) Whatever the case may be, you know this is making John Travolta seethe and the glue holding his lace front just melted off. Tommy shamelessly flaunting his naturally grown bangs is like a slap to John Travolta’s wig. It’s on and the boys in the Scientology bath house better choose sides now.
Johnny Depp and Amber Heard have been stunt queening that Sssh…is it an engagement ring? ring around town like it’s their job (it’s pretty much is Amber’s job right now) and gobbling up the attention like dirty stray dogs in an open dumpster. But according to Us Weekly, Johnny might be sleeping on the couch tonight. Johnny was in China on Monday to promote his new film Transcendence, and when asked point-blank whether or not he proposed to his current midlife crisis, he sort of spilled the attention-grabbing beans:
“The fact that I’m wearing a chick’s ring on my finger is probably a dead giveaway. Not very subtle,” Depp replied. The AP explains that the actor was wearing a ring featuring a “single diamond on a band around his ring finger. And indeed, it really is a “chick’s ring,” one source tells Us Weekly: The engagement ring Depp gave Heard was “too big for her, so he started wearing it,” explains the source.
Damn, Gilbert Grape, you’re fucked! Now that you’ve confirmed that THAT RING on THAT FINGER is a hitchin’ diamond, paps aren’t going to give a rat’s plump ass about trying to get shots of Amber’s ring hand. Which is bad news for you buddy, because in case you didn’t know, Amber Heard works a pretty tight stunt queen game. That’s why she sent you to China wearing that ring, dummy; so that people would talk about THAT RING even without Amber present (she was unable to accompany the ring, as she was too busy back in the US planning the details of a staged photo-op at a bridal store). But this is all Amber’s fault. Clearly she didn’t work hard enough with him before he left, otherwise he would have known that the correct answer to a question confirming their engagement is: “I don’t know…it looks like you’ll have to wait for the red-carpet premiere of Trancendence for more clues!”
And because I know you’re dying for it, here’s more of Johnny in China looking like a dead-ringer for your ne’er-do-well uncle who’s starting to sober up after huffing all the aerosol out of several cans of Reddi-Wip right before Thanksgiving dinner at your grandparent’s house, where he both lives and gets busted selling porn to neighborhood kids on a weekly basis (yes, his name is either Terry or Jake):
Pics: Flame Flynet
If you’re in Miami and see steam billowing out of one of the hotels, it’s nothing. It’s just Michelle Rodriguez and her piece Cara Delevingne rubbing a layer of skin off of their coochie lips while scissoring, because you know when these two fuck, they fuck. They fuck like a death comet is shooting towards Earth. When they fuck, smoke detectors go off and when the firefighters break down their hotel room door and try to pry them off of each other, they keep fucking. Turning the hose on them is a waste of water, because they can’t stop, won’t stop.
While looking like Jason Mewes dressed up as a Disney Channel rapper circa 1993, Cara held MRod’s head like a basketball and made out with her in front of their hotel in Miami yesterday. Before making out in Miami yesterday, Cara and Michelle touched nipples while making out with their tops off in Cancun last week.
I’m gayer than a baby blue poodle humping on a flamingo plush toy’s ass and even that did things to me. But you know when this ends, it’s not going to end well. They’re going to make SamRo and LiLo look like a functional and sane couple. They’re going to unconsciously uncouple, because they’re going to knock each other out with the shit they’ll throw at each other from across the room. There’s going to be tears, screams, broken windows, blood and the make-up sex will make the ice sheet in Greenland melt once and for all. We’ve been warned.
File this under both Not Surprising and Bitch Need Money (and let’s create a folder called Not Surprising That This Bitch Needs Money to save time in the future). According to People, Tori Spelling has decided that the best way to repair her marriage to the Patron Saint of Grab Ass, Dean “Naw baby, that ain’t herpes” McDermott is to let a film crew follow them around. Six 1-hour long episodes of True Tori will begin airing April 22nd on Lifetime and will feature the struggle between Tori, the Deaner, and his wandering peener.
I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask someone to repeat the description of True Tori to me once more; I was unable to hear it the first time due to the deafening sound of Tori forcing the feet of her marriage into a pair of too-tight hooker heels and pushing it from a moving car onto the ho stroll. Clickety- clack, bitch, clickety-clack!
Even though it’s called True Tori, everything about this show will be a homemade piñata covered with glitter glue and stuffed with LIES. Luckily, I’ve been hard at work creating this handy Tori Translator to make everything Tori says a little bit easier to understand:
“We’re not broke” = Quick! Turn off the cameras, I think I hear the real estate agent coming
“I’m committed to this marriage” = Candy Spelling hasn’t returned any of my calls
“I still love Dean” = I can’t find a law firm to sponsor my divorce
And personally, I hope there’s a companion piece to True Tori called Deaner Diaries, where a film crew follows the Deaner as he tries to repair his broken marriage by banging every Hooters girl and cocktail waitress in Souther California. It will be like the Deaner’s version of The NeverEnding Story, but instead of riding Falcor, he rides a giant bottle of penicillin. The NeverEnding Whore-y!
30-year-old Kitty, a dog trainer (yes, Kitty the dog trainer) and married mother of 1 tells ABC News that for years people have been telling her that she looks just like Jennifer Lawrence and I’m going to guess that most of those people were either drunk to the point where EVERYTHING looked like Jennifer Lawrence to them or they were legally blind, because Kitty looked like Jennifer Lawrence as much as my tattered b-hole looks like Megan Fox holding a rose in her mouth.
People telling Kitty that she looks like Jennifer Lawrence planted a seed in her brain and out sprouted the crazy idea to spend $25,000 (minus the discount from her plastic surgeon for doing it on TV) get six plastic surgeries to look even more like Jennifer Lawrence. Kitty’s four-week-long fuckery journey to become Jennifer Lawrence’s twin started in February at the First Surgical Hospital in Houston. Kitty’s plastic surgeon Dr. Franklin Rose gave her face lipo, body lipo, a titty job, a nose job and fat grafts to her cheeks and ass. All surgeries took six hours total and it took several weeks for her to fully recover from getting nipped, tucked and sucked. Kitty says that she ultimately got the surgery, because after she birthed out her 5-year-old daughter, she wasn’t that comfortable with her body and she really, really loves Jennifer Lawrence.
“I’m not trying to look like Pamela Anderson here during her ‘Baywatch’ days. I’m trying to look like a very capable, very personal level-headed female who is an Academy Award winner. I am a strong woman. I am in charge of how I look and I can change that and then change that again if I want. The reason why I decided to get surgery is because post having my daughter, I wasn’t quite as comfortable with my body,” she said. “I don’t think you have to be crazy to want to look better or feel better about yourself. That’s not crazy.”
The money for Kitty’s plastic surgeries came from a “me fund” she started before having her daughter. Kitty’s husband Eric didn’t think she needed to be touched with the plastic surgeon’s scalpel and he’s kind of “eh” about Jennifer Lawrence, so yeah he’s pretty much done with her ass. After all those surgeries, Kitty says she really looks like Jennifer Lawrence now. Here’s Kitty before, after and a picture of the celebrity she looks nothing like. Nothing is more tragic than a face cloning fail.
If I had $25,000 to spend on whatever, I’d spend it on hiring a scientist to perfectly replicate Jell-O 1-2-3 (aka the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth next to hard peen), so who am I to judge? (Actually, I’m still judging her, because spending $25k on bringing back Jell-O-1-2-3 is less crazy than proving that you’re a super stalker by getting plastic surgery to look like Jennifer Lawrence of all hos.) But it’s her money, her body and if she’s happy and sees Jennifer Lawrence when she looks in the mirror, then good for her. But the only way she’ll really look like Jennifer Lawrence is if Jennifer Lawrence was really Mystique and shapeshifted into Kitty. Because I see Mandy Moore, Kristen Wiig, Backdoor Farrah, a little Drew Barrymore and Kat Dennings, but I don’t see Jennifer Lawrence at all. It’s going to be really awkward when Jennifer Lawrence is asked about this and she’s horrified by the creepiness of it all. If that happens, Kitty can start hating on Jennifer Lawrence and stan for a trick she really looks like, like a Real Housewife of Any City for instance.
Here’s Kitty (and another chick who got surgery to look like Michelle Rodriguez) on ABC News.
Shortly after Miranda Kerr and Orlando Bloom took a lit match to the pile of dry leaves that was their 3-year marriage, I assumed that horny Kewpie doll would do a bony bootyshake for joy and pull up a seat at the all-you-can pound peen buffet, hopping from dick to dick like a gold-digging grasshopper. She started out strong, bagging herself a billionaire (a billionaire with a face that says “Thank jeebus I’ve got a gold-dipped dick”). And in a recent interview with British GQ, it sounds Miranda has developed a strategy to keep bagging bigger and better billionaires. Hint: it involves turning fuck-times into an analytical research-gathering session:
“I always ask for a critique on my performance. I always want to better myself in every way.”
The only thing worse than a chatty cathy fuck partner who won’t stop asking for approval during sex (“Is that good? What about that? On a scale of 1 to 10…”) is one who won’t shut up about it afterwards. At least during you can try to tune them out by playing the Dr. Mario theme or pretend they suffer from some rare yapping disease that’s triggered by fucking. But once it’s all done, it’s like a race against time to bust your ass to the bathroom before they sit you down for a performance evaluation. “If you’ll take a look at page 3 of the package I just handed to you, you’ll see a diagram. Please label it with the corresponding adjective, as well as a brief statement of pleasure.”
Here’s more of Miranda in British GQ. Some of the shots might be considered a little NSFW if you work at the sort of place where it’s a no-no to look at the nipples and bony buttcrack of a come-to-life Bubble Belles doll:
Pics: British GQ
People says that somewhere in California yesterday, 40-year-old Sara Gilbert (Side note: Yes, a single white hair grows out of your ass lips when you read the words “39-year-old Sara Gilbert.” It’s a natural reaction) started on the road to wedded misery with the chick from 4 Non Blondes. All together now: And I say haaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-yaaaay-yaaay-yay-yay-haaaaaay-yaaay-yaaay, I say, hay, congrats, bitches!
Darlene Conner and 49-year-old Linda Perry starting bumpin’ ‘ginas full-time around 3 years ago after Darlene got out of a really long relationship. Linda proposed to Darlene last year. UsWeekly says that Juliette Lewis was at their wedding, but other than that, there’s no other details and I know that’s making you prop up your eyelids with toothpicks, because you can’t close them without knowing every detail about Darlene Conner’s wedding. So let’s just assume that Becky #1 and #2 were her bridesmaids, her something borrowed was a tuxedo made out of Roseanne’s chicken shirt, Dan walked her down the aisle while wearing his baby blue bathrobe and DJ watched it all from the children’s table where he belongs. Afterward, Sara Gilbert gave a special toast to Johnny Galecki for making her wedding possible by turning her into a lesbian with his gayelle-turning lips a million years ago.
And here’s Sara and Linda a couple of weeks ago at an event for L.A.’s Gay and Lesbian Center. Sara did good, because Linda Perry looks like the spawn of Freddy Krueger and a cholo Gelfling and that IS the look.
Michael Jackson Moonwalked into the afterworld five years ago and it’s kind of shocking that his estate hasn’t grabbed onto his memory and milked every last cent of it by releasing a posthumous album of “new material” every other month since his death. But they’re hopping on that train now. Today, Epic Records announced that a new MJ album titled “Xscape” (insert kandibodyleanandsideye.GIF) will come out on May 13th. They also released this album cover, which I’m guessing was made in an old copy of Photoshop by Bubbles, of MJ peeking out of an intergalactic tuba.
The new MJ album will have 8 new songs that he recorded before he died. Since the songs were recorded a while ago, L.A. Reid “contemporized” the tracks for 2014. Epic will also burp up a deluxe edition that will include the songs in their original form before L.A. Reid slathered them in some 2014. L.A. Reid farted out this statement about the album:
“Michael left behind some musical performances that we take great pride in presenting through the vision of music producers that he either worked directly with or expressed strong desire to work with. We are extremely proud and honored to present this music to the world.”
And so it begins. Expect a “posthumous” album every damn year followed by a world tour starring a Michael Jackson Hologram and a Joe Jackson-produced tribute show in Reno, NV which will feature Blanket Jackson lip-synching to his dad’s old songs while Bubbles dances in the background. But can we just fast forward to the part where Detective La Toya releases an Unforgettable-type album of her singing duets with “Michael Jackson“? Yeah, let’s go there already.
“So what? I’d quit my job to boo that Bart Simpson wannabe Justin Bieber every day” – all of you reading this. And I agree; hearing that Tantrum Toddler got booed is about as surprising as finding empty Diet Coke cans in my shower (I love a good shower Coke). But it’s the circumstance of the booing that makes it a truly precious gemstone.
Canadian’s low-budget Grammy Award knock-off, the Junos, were held last night in Winnipeg (moose moose maple beaver – there, now it’s officially the most Canadian sentence every written) and by some unholy miracle, Justin won the Juno Fan Choice Award. Everyone’s favorite mischief-making Precious Moments figurine must have been too hard at work on his Busy Box, because he was a no-show. But it was for the best; the second the Canadian women’s curling team called his name (okay, now it’s officially the most Canadian sentence) that bitch got booed so hard, it was as if someone had pulled a Sinead O’Connor and tore up a picture of Anne of Green Gables:
Then during her acceptance speech for Best Songwriter, Serena Ryder (who clearly needs to drop everything and rush to the nearest MRI clinic to identify just how large that tumour is in her brain) came to Bieber’s defense, saying that he worked his ass off and deserves that award and bla bla bla. She’s right, though: you’ve got to work your ass off to be as big a douche as Tantrum Toddler.
But the real story here is that a group of polite Canadian people booed someone! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Canadian sarcastically apologize to someone, let alone boo them. To put it in perspective, a Canadian ‘Boo’ is equivalent to an American ‘Fuck your bitch-ass life, you cunt-faced shit-eater!’ For instance, the last time someone cut me off while driving, I caught up to them at the next stoplight and the rudest thing I could think of was: “I’m sorry, but I really do not appreciate you driving like a dick”. Well, I mean, technically I didn’t say it to them; I sort of just thought it to myself. But I did give them a mildly dirty look!