Buzzfeed asked Madge (who was done up like a nosy memaw from the 1950s) her opinion on random shit and when they asked her what she thinks of the devil’s tool known as CROCS, she wrote “effective.” If she doesn’t mean “effective at assaulting eyes,” then Madge is “effectively” dead to me forever. – Buzzfeed
The Other Woman promo tour is never going to end and Cameron Diaz will forever be spewing out shit about crotch pubes, monogamy, getting old, Botox and children. I’m surprised we still haven’t heard her stance on anal bleaching – Lainey Gossip
Gisele Bundchen “sings” Heart of Glass. Well, that’s something that happened and never needs to happen again - Drunken Stepfather
Scary Spice is either un-wedgie-ing herself, picking a dingle or searching for Posh’s singing talent – Hollywood Tuna
The person in the Easter Bunny suit is Michelle Williams, right? A check is a check… – Celebitchy
“It’s all going according to plan….” said Mickey Mouse while rubbing his hands together as he looks at these pictures of Bella Thorne toking on the good shit at Coachella – The Superficial
Everyone wants to see Mimi Faust from Love & Hip Hop get boned while holding onto a shower rod – Reality Tea
Either Nick Jonas’ body is getting bigger or his head is getting smaller – Towleroad
Kristen Bell is wet, naked and confused on a beach, which I’m guessing is also a metaphor for what it’s like being married to Ashton Kutcher’s sidekick from Punk’d – IDLYITW
Miranda Kerr sings and sounds like a sexy toddler while doing so – Jezebel
Aaron Sorkin is really sorry about The Newsroom - The Daily Beast
Kate Upton gets photobombed by Leslie Mann’s face on a poster – Popoholic
Brian Williams is more gangsta than Justin Bieber (but really, who isn’t?) – Popoholic
Daniel Franzese comes out in an open letter to his Mean Girls character. I thought this already happened a million years ago, but you go Glen Coco – Defamer
Superman and Gina Carano are still fucking – ICYDK
The 90s were hard – The Berry
ICYMI or need something to cleanse your palate of THAT SCENE, here’s some Game of Thrones peen and ass – (NSFW) OMG Blog
Kelly Clarkson has a CASE OF THE BABIES!!! all the way and I’m going to go ahead and blame her hormones for why the hell she’s carrying that ugly ass sofa samples bag – Popsugar
The time I mistook Christina Hendricks for Endora – Just Jared
If 2004 Gwen Stefani swallowed a neon green bucket full of Ke$hit’s juicy queefs and swallowed it down with Skrillex’s wet burps and a candy necklace that Keroppi used as anal beads, she’d get the serious heaves and then barf out this video for Avril Lavigne’s ear-killing song “Hello Kitty.”
I was going to say that Avril is pretty much 30 going on 13, but two of my cousins are 13 and they’d rather be seen at the movies with their parents on a Saturday night than be seen in a goddamn pink ruffled skirt with cupcakes on it. This Hello Kitty butt dingle of a video is such a horrific abomination that Canada needs to immediately issue an apology to Japan.
The song is the perfect thing to listen to when you want the answer to the question, “Can ears actually bleed blood?”, (SPOILER ALERT: Listening to this wreck will prove that the answer is YES) and of course Chad Kroeger is a co-writer on it. Only the 12-year-old mind of Avril Lavigne and the Monster Energy Drink-infused brain of Chad Kroeger could come up with these poignant lyrics:
Mom’s not home tonight
So we can roll around, have a pillow fight
Like a major rager OMFG
Let’s all slumber party
Like a fat kid on a pack of Smarties
Someone chuck a cupcake at me
Avril Lavigne is practically 30 and she’s spitting out lyrics that a 12-year-old one consider too immature. Chad Kroeger is married to her. Chris Hansen needs to ask both of them to have a seat.
And here’s 2 things I would rather do than listen to that song again:
1. Listen to a Nickelback song (it’s that serious).
2. Shove a lighter wand in my ear and pull the trigger.
For the last 2 months, I’d say a little prayer on my E.T. doll every time I saw a picture of Drew Barrymore because it felt like she had been pregnant for-ev-er and I was starting to get worried she was the victim of some weird gypsy curse that made her permanently pregnant (which is a punk move, even for the most vengeful of curse-throwing gypsies). Thankfully there was no curse (or Drew broke the curse, will update with details as soon as they’re released from www.gypsycurses.net) because People says that on Tuesday, Drew and her husband Will Kopelman became the parents of another little girl, who they’ve named Frankie Barrymore Kopelman. Drew and Will are already the parents of 19-month-old Olive Kopelman.
For someone who always struck me as a bit spacey and new age-y, Drew has managed to give her kids some pretty normal names. I was certain that after playing it safe with Olive she’d pull a 180 with the second baby and pick something bonkers like Moon Glow or Peaceful, but Frankie is cute. I especially like Frankie and Olive together; it sounds like a mid-range Italian chain restaurant. Frankie and Olive is where you go when there’s too long of a wait at Olive Garden. “2 hours? Oh forget it, I’m not waiting 2 hours. We’ll go to Frankie and Olive. I think I got a 2-for-1 coupon somewhere in my purse.”
Amber Heard is sooooo lucky; that’s pretty much the best Johnny Depp™ costume I’ve ever seen. She even got a real Johnny Depp™ Old-Timey Hat and two Johnny Depp™ Totally Random Necklaces! I’m super jealous. I asked for a Johnny Depp™ costume for my birthday too, but all I got was a cheap plastic smock with a picture of Gilbert Grape on the front.
Today marks Amber Heard’s 28th birthday, and to celebrate, the grimy-looking human mid-life crisis she’s engaged to treated her to a day of shopping in New York City. I don’t know where they went shopping, but I can guess they probably bought at least one of the following things: a shirt that’s meant to be layered with 4 other shirts, huge silver thumb rings, some kind of $50 non-shampoo, moth-eaten hats. After a long day of shopping, Johnny finished granting all of Amber’s birthday wishes by calling the paps for her. “Awww, how did you know?? I’m the happiest little stunt queen in all the land! Quick, give me back my engagement ring.”
Here’s more of Jamber Juice returning home from a long day of shopping for secretly-expensive worn out-looking garbage clothes (hey, it takes a lot of money to look as homeless as Johnny Depp) as well as Johnny cleaning up the tiniest bit to take Amber out for dinner on Monday night. I always forget what Johnny Depp looks like when he does normal person drag; if he took off that weird taupe pussy hat, he could actually pass for handsome (“Nope” – Wino-era Johnny Depp). And Amber, honey, I suggest you bury that red velvet suit in the back of the guest bedroom closet, because there’s only one person who can pull off red velvet, and her name is Stacy Layne Matthews.
It’s been almost two years since Katie Holmes has had to put her lips on Tommy Girl’s Thetan-covered mouth during a staged photo-op and judging by the way it looks like she’s been banging her head against a pillow to rid her mind of those memories, she’s still not over those traumatizing times.
Suri Cruise’s mom showed up to the Tribeca Film Festival premiere of her new movie Miss Meadows in NYC last night and she wore a dress that looks like an over-used maxi-pad with wings. You can take the girl out of Scientology, but you can’t take the “squeezed out of a third story bathroom window at the Scientology Celebrity Centre and fell into a bunch of bushes before running from Tommy Girl’s goons” look out of the girl. The “freshly attacked by a raccoon” hair is giving me Shelly Duvall circa 1980 and her dress reminds me of a tsunami of blood, so she looks like the end product of a Project Runway challenge where the designers were asked to create a cocktail look based on The Shining. But what’s most disturbing about this look are those pockets. Bitch is wearing pockets that are big enough to hold Tommy Girl and she’s not even using them to hold a bottle of wine or a bag of Fritos. The only reason to wear big ass pockets like that is to have the sweet nectar and refreshments at your disposal at all times. Suri, how could you let your mom leave the house like this?!
And as Duchess Kate beamed at that punu stick, Prince William thought to himself, “Why doesn’t she ever look at mine like that?”
Duchess Kate and Prince Williams are still walking advertisements for the New Zealand and Australia tourism boards and today their all-expenses paid working vacation took them to Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park where they met with Aboriginal people of the area and posed in front of Uluru like Princess Diana and Prince Charles did in the 80s. Duchess Kate wore another dress that looks like it had a past life as curtains sold exclusively by CB2. Baby Prince George didn’t come along this time, because his tour contract states that he gets every other day off to drool, sleep and eat pastries out of his nanny-in-waiting hands. But Duchess Kate did talk about Baby Prince George today and by talk about him I mean she FAT SHAMED HIM! via People:
Prince George has been so well looked after in New Zealand and Australia that he’s added an “extra fat roll,” his mother Kate told some schoolgirls on Tuesday.
“We asked if they missed him,” one of the girls, Shannon Hunt, told PEOPLE after meeting with the royals at a tea party in Uluru.
“Kate said, ‘He’s been changing so much while we’ve been away.’ Kate also said he grew an extra fat roll while they’re away. She also said he can get a bit grumpy on the long flights.”
Duchess Kate is really going in during this tour. First, she BALD SHAMED Prince William by saying he should wear an alpaca wool merkin on his head (she’s right) and now she’s joking about Baby Prince George’s chunk rolls. Baby Prince George is the future King of England and if he wants to eat a deep fried bilby for dinner, he can! Baby Prince George is totally going to get Duchess Kate back for this. No, he’s not going to order her execution like some other kings, but he’ll probably get revenge by barfing on her greatest asset: her luxurious hair. You’re gonna get it, DK!
I’ll give you a moment to clean up whatever mess your downstairs parts made after they exploded from reading that sentence (if your reaction was anything like mine, you’re going to need a ShamWow).
Heaven’s Handsomest Earth Angel Jon Hamm just shot up to the No.1 position on my list of complete strangers I would donate a kidney to (there was a vacancy due to Bruce Jenner’s recent demotion) after speaking candidly and beautifully about the skid mark in Canada’s underwear, Justin Bieber, during an interview for the May issue of Men’s Fitness:
“Look at Bieber or whoever. You’re like, ‘What the fuck, man? What are you doing? Why?’ There’s no one telling those people no, and it’s a shame. [He should have] a mom or a dad or a really good friend who can say, ‘Hey, shithead!’ You see people in the world and you’re like, ‘Do you know how a washing machine works? Do you know how to wash a dish? Life skills are something we’re missing… just shit you needed to learn in life. There used to be a class that kids had to take in high school called home economics, which was cooking and sewing and just shit you needed to learn in life.”
I’m going to need another ShamWow, but this time it’s to mop up the tears of pure joy leaking from my eyes. Damn, Jon Hamm knows how to call a bitch OUT. I actually feel a bit bad for Justin Bieber (ew Allison, no) because it’s going to take weeks to recover from getting violently dry fucked by Jon Hamm’s truth. But also, to answer Jon Hamm’s question: No, he doesn’t have a mom or a dad. He’s the result of someone accidentally dropping a bottle of Summer’s Eve into a machine at the Hasbro factory.
And I need to send Jon Hamm a muffin basket, because “I bet you don’t even know how a washing machine works” is my new favourite insult.
Sucio creepy pervs unite! Nothing makes my b-hole close up like a picture of Uncle Terry and R. Kelly throwing their fists up and my b-hole never closes up!
Page Six says that another sexual harassment lawsuit has been added to the mountain of sexual abuse lawsuits that Lady CaCa’s partner in foolery has been hit with and settled in the past. Page Six recently learned that in 2010, R. Kelly’s 36-year-old housekeeper of a year hit him with a lawsuit after he allegedly filled her ear holes with dirty talk and groped her. R. Kelly didn’t want to take it to court, so they settled for $100,000. A source tells Page Six that lately shit hasn’t been all rainbows and strawberry-scented piss in R. Kelly’s camp. They’re all scared that more secrets from the underage girls he had sex with and paid off are about to come out. Last year, The Village Voice ran an interview with Chicago-Sun Times pop music critic Jim DeRogatis who has spent 15 years reporting about how R. Kelly has had sex with and manipulated dozens of underage girls in Chicago. R. Kelly has never been convicted of child touching. Many of the cases settled without going to trial.
Well, I guess R. Kelly’s an equal-opportunity creepy piece of trash, because this time he did wrong things to someone who’s actually over the age of 18. And if you’re like me, then every time you see an R. Kelly headline your first thought is, “But did he piss on her?” I hate that about my brain.
And I won’t be surprised if Hollywood greenlights a PedoBear biopic co-directed by Bryan Singer and Woody Allen with art direction by Uncle Terry and music by R. Kelly.
Pic: Terry Richardson
A strange things keeps happening… Human women are still willingly fucking Pete “Dreamboat” Doherty without lining their coochie tunnels with Tyvek and covering themselves with liquid antibiotics before squeezing into two full-body condoms specially made by NASA. Human chicks with working brains are still letting Dreamboat bust raw nuts up in ‘em and I’m guessing those chicks are the same kind of chicks who fap while watching zombie porn. Dreamboat tells the Israeli newspaper Ynet (via Crave) that he’s into reuniting with The Libertines, but only because his checking account has got tumbleweeds blowing through it, his wallet’s only got an IOU receipt from his crack dealer in it and he’s got ANOTHER mouth to feed.
A couple of days ago, a map of Hyde Park went up on The Libertines’ Facebook page and some hos took that to mean that they were going to perform a reunion show there. Dreamy says that they got an offer to reunite and he had to say yes to it, because he’s so desperate for money that he’s about to suck off his dealer for a half-smoked rock (really, who hasn’t been there?).
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to even tell you this, but we were offered to reform the Libertines for a show this July in Hyde Park. I got the call just yesterday. I said yes. The thing is when I think about it now it was kind of a strange answer because I think in most days if you asked me the same question I would say no, but recently I tried to call Carl (Barat) and couldn’t reach him. Not long ago I listened to The Libertines songs on YouTube and had a burst of nostalgia so I said what the heck, and then they told me how much they will pay us and I cannot lie to you I couldn’t say no, at least not in my state right now.”
Dreamy is really, really hard up for cash, because he just found out that living in this world is a third child who will one day take his daddy’s old crack pipe to school on Show and Tell day.
“I was recently called to family law court after a young girl I knew had told me I was the father of her baby. I have a year and a half old girl and I need to pay a lot of alimony, I’m in debt. It’s very complicated for me to say no right now. I have financial problems.”
Dreamy has a 10-year-old son named Astile with singer Lisa Moorish and a 2-year-old daughter named Aisling with a South African model.
If Dreamy really needs a quick check, he should submit his body to science for testing. Scientists can find out how is it possible that his liver and the rest of his internal organs haven’t melted and dribbled out of his asshole by now. While they’re in there, they can also study his drunk jizz to find out how it’s possible that they’re able to find a stranger’s ovaries while they’re boozed up and high on who knows what. I mean, when I’m really drunk and stoned, I can barely find the toilet I use every day, but yet Dreamy’s drunk jizz seem to always find their way. He truly is a freak of nature.