Goopy Paltrow is slumped over the solid marble bathtub in the middle of her bedroom and weeping into a hand cut crystal vial held by her nighttime maid (she can sell that vial for $56,000 on GOOP), because her reign as the most pretentious blonde twat with the most insufferable lifestyle blog is in danger now that Blake NotSoLively’s highly-anticipated (by no one) site has finally arrived on the scene.
After months and months of telling everyone about her totally original, one-of-a-kind lifestyle blog for people who crave a curated life (read: assholes), the humanized drop of tap water on a white paper cup has launched Preserve.us. Blake didn’t get a dot com, because dot coms are for Volkaswagen-driving, Trader Joe’s-shopping, Old Navy-wearing mainstream regulars and Preserve is for unique souls who take the off-beaten path through a lavender field to a giant pear tree where they’ll strung a homemade banjo they bought from an old blind man in the Tennessee mountains while their fedora-wearing boyfriend feeds them goat cheese he made himself. Preserve is basically a Portlandia skit come to life.
The design of Preserve (which sadly isn’t a blog about jams) is all black, beige and squiggly. It looks like an artisanal shit that came out of a hipster’s ass after he ate Anthropologie. On the front page of that artisanal skid mark is a video about dreams (or some shit), a Tumblr-esque article about sundaes that makes me heave (and anything involving sundaes shouldn’t make a ho heave, that’s illegal) and some drooly stuff about a tattooed ginger hipster. There’s also an editor’s letter and at first I didn’t think that Blake actually wrote that mess, but it’s obvious that it came from her brain since it reads like something a 12-year-old wrote on their LiveJournal in 2000. I’m not going to post the whole letter, because it’s long, but these two lines sum it up perfectly:
I am hungry, though… not just for enchiladas.
I’m hungry for experience.
And now I’m hungry for enchiladas, because I need to cleanse my palate of Preserve.
Preserve wouldn’t be a GOOP knock-off if it didn’t sell overpriced shit, so Blake is selling all sorts of crap like a $7 bottle of ketchup, a $70 “everyday” bowl and an $18 spoon that’s described like this:
There is hardly a more fitting place for a subtly suggestive hint than the bowl of a vintage silver plated spoon. A request for the very love act named for its curvature is hand engraved here in an innocent old-time typewriter font. In case there was any question, a tiny heart seals the deal. Food useable, this special bit of flatware is a constant reminder to cuddle up.
Who ever wrote that shit forgot to throw in a line about how that spoon is the perfect spoon to smoke basil honey-infused crack off of since that’s what they did before writing that description.
And on that note, it was nice hating on you, GOOP, but there’s a new messy lifestyle blog to hate!
If somebody ever asks you to define the meaning of “sophistication,” show them these pictures of Danity Kane looking like late-80s hookers who are known for giving blow jobs for beer in a parking lot Port-A-Potty at Nascar races – Hollywood Tuna
Oscar Isaac bites Pedro Pascal’s ear and judging by Pedro Pascal’s face, he’s also getting a little “poked in the butt” action – Lainey Gossip
The Real Housewives of New Jersey’s ratings are dropping faster than Juicy Joe’s side piece when he waves a stolen $100 at her face, because nobody’s here for Teresa Giudice’s PR stunt - Reality Tea
Zendaya dropped out of the Aaliyah Lifetime movie, because she thought the production values were trash and when a 17-year-old Disney trick thinks your production values are trash…. – Celebitchy
The Swedish Shauna Sand goes sugar daddy hunting in Greece – WWTDD
Alessandra Ambrosia Salad served up some chola stripper hotness in Brazil - Drunken Stepfather
Selena Gomez’s plastic titty bags deflated - The Superficial
Panic! At The Disco trolls the trolls – Jezebel
Tom Daley and Dustin Lance Black were on a plane that had to make an emergency landing in Russia, but wait, those two fly coach?! – Towleroad
Oh, look, Kim Kartrashian did something she NEVER does – IDLYITW
What in the hell kind of GD outfit is Selena Gomez wearing? – Popoholic
The National Enquirer’s TOMMY GIRL’S GAY LIFE EXPOSED cover story would’ve been shocking and brand new if the year was 1985 – Boy Culture
Joaquin Phoenix is Hollywood’s greatest forehead actor – The Berry
These pictures of Sofia Vergara and Joe ManJello are so natural and so not staged! – Popsugar
The Shining prequel that nobody needed or asked for is coming – OMG Blog
Lauren Conrad calls out Allure for the truest thing they’ve ever published – HuffPo
Zac Efron spent the night at Michelle Rodriguez’s house and if you stare at his overnight bag long enough, you can almost see the outline of a double-sided dildo – Just Jared
The Internet has taught me not to believe anything, because everything is a lie. So I looked at this clip through a Detective La Toya brand magnifying glass, because a huge chunk of me believes that the hot, old dude is a young dancer in old man drag and this is just another Jimmy Kimmel hoax or a viral marketing ad for Centrum Silver with Molly. But if this is real, then this seasoned dance machine is my hero. Pepaw looks like Grandpa Simpson on anti-depressants and Ecstasy. We should all hope that when we reach the “liver spots on our taint” phase of life, that we have 1/1000th of this old coot’s hotness and can set fire to the dance floor at a boring wedding reception by throwing down our crutches and unleashing a wave of sexy moves. This video’s got the executives at KY feeling a new kind of nervous. Because this video could end droughts and bring moistness to the driest of deserts. May the granny panties drop.
And pepaw’s plastic bag tied around his belt loop truly IS the look.
I haven’t watched the first episode of LeAnn Rimes and Eddie Cibrian’s “semi-scripted” dried turd of reality show on Vh1, because I am a disgusting, gross, easy pig slut when it comes to TV (and everything else) and I should try to have SOME standards. I recorded LeAnn & Eddie, though, and when I’ve gone into my DVR to play an episode of quality television like Dating Naked and Topless Prophet on Cinemax, it stares at me like a wet, oozing herp sore on a short, soft peen. I can’t bring myself to watch it. Apparently, I’m not alone, because Deadline says that the first episode of The Home Wrecking Squints was watched by 374,000 viewers. To put that number into perspective, Grumpy Cat was on QVC at 7 in the morning yesterday and more hos probably watched that shit (and sadly, I was one of those hos). LeAnn & Eddie were beat by Dog with a Blog, an episode of Seinfeld and COPS. Deadline says that Vh1′s Dating Naked got 826,000 viewers, but when LeAnn Rimes’ “melting Play-Doh figurine of a demon pony” face popped up after it, everyone turned their TVs off.
The rest of VH1’s new programming on VH1 might have wanted to strip down a bit to do better. Coming after the 551,000 who watched the debut of Candidly Nicole, the 10:30 premiere of Leann And Eddie was seen by a total 374,000 audience of 374,000. The former was up 51% from last quarter among the 18-49s with 325,000 watching while the later up just 19% over the last quarter’s average in the time slot with 252,000 viewers in the demo.
To recap: more than twice the number of hos who suffered through LeAnn & Eddie watched a show with a bunch of naked people. For the love of humanity’s eyeballs, don’t let that give Falkor ideas!!! (Eddie, okay, but not Falkor!) And poor Eddie’s probably going to have to take his side pieces to the Super 8 instead of the Hilton. LeAnn probably cut his allowance, because she needed the money to buy 374,000 TVs and 374,000 different cable connections. You didn’t think 374,000 actual people watch that wreck, did you?
And here’s Falkor looking like a horse skeleton in lazy Stevie Nicks drag while protecting the peen she paid for at the Luli Fama fashion show in Miami yesterday.
Twilight actress (or for those of you with good taste, that sneaky no-good slut Evie from Thirteen) Nikki Reed announced waaaaay back in March that she had pulled the plug on her marriage to American Idol contestant Paul McDonald, and it looks like she’s finally found a new dick to dry her divorced tears on. Nikki was spotted on Sunday wandering around a farmer’s market in Studio City accompanied by The Vampire Diaries hottie and discount Rob Lowe impersonator Ian Somerhalder.
Nikki hasn’t officially confirmed that she’s hooking up with Nina Dobrev’s leftovers, but cruising the farmer’s market together on a Sunday morning is kind of a ‘more than friends’ sort of thing, right? Strolling around a farmer’s market is some couple shit, like getting side-by-side massages or splitting the Chicken Bellagio at The Cheesecake Factory. Then again, maybe they’re just giving each other casual hand-jobs over heirloom tomatoes. I dunno. I guess they’re throwing me off because Hollywood-types usually announce “HEY EVERYBODY, WE’RE FUCKING!!!” by getting papped grabbing a coffee.
Regardless, get it girl. But also, get him girl…to burn those awful slouchy dirtbag dad sweatpants. Have some damn decency, Ian Somerhalder; you’re at the farmer’s market! Ain’t nobody wanna see a loose dick swinging around while they’re sampling goat cheese.
Panty Creamer Of The Day: Leonardo DiCaprio Giving You Body, Ponytail And Nasty Beard Hotness In Miami
If you’re a 6’1″, 90lb blonde model who is under the age of OLD (read: 23) and always looking to come up, then it’s your lucky life, because there’s a really good chance that this hot, chunk of hairy, bloated hotness will climb on top of you and cover your body with his stank as his beard fleas jump onto your face. Lucky whore.
It’s Fashion Week in Miami right now and wherever there’s a large gathering of models, there’s Leonardo DiCatchAHo trolling around and looking for his next piece. Leo took a break from sitting front row at fashion shows and pointing at models while telling his people that he’ll take “one of those and one of those and one of those” to feed his hairy nipples and belly pouch some much needed Vitamin D on the beach. Leo is apparently growing out his hair, beard and body for a movie that’s shooting in September and no, I don’t know if he’s playing a bottom level Zach Galifianakis impersonator who can also impersonate Jack Nicholson for anyone who’s not picky and on a budget. Leo is once again proving that if you’re a famous millionaire, you can look like you smell like foreskin gouda, thick beard gravy and pit syrup and models will still throw their chocha at you. Not pictured: Lukas Haas hosing down all the models trying to throw their chochas at Leo while he’s having some “me time” on the beach.
And yes, I still, still would. Leo’s high ponytail and those back bangs that look like a hairy neck skirt are taking me higher.
Pics: FameFlynet, Splash
And now for your hourly update on the state of Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s maybe-crumbling marriage. According to Page Six, the everlasting love between Yawncé and Joe Camel is as dead as the wifi signal in the basement (Unable to join the network “Is there not a box of old weaves I asked you to organize, Solange?”). But because Beyoncé has an ego the size of …well…Beyoncé’s ego, and Jay-Z doesn’t want to admit that one of his 99 problems is, in fact, his bitch, they’re doing everything in their power to keep from getting divorced.
A source claims that Jay-Z hired marriage counsellors to travel with them on their “On The Run” tour, but they’re really only there to help them pretend they don’t totally hate each other as they sing about being sooooo in love night after night. Apparently, once the tour ends, Beyoncé plans on putting everything Jay-Z owns in a box to the left and telling that hussy-chasing camel to hit the bricks. The source also says they stopped wearing their wedding rings a long time ago, and that Blue Ivy was a band-aid baby. Basically, IT’S OVER. Except that it’s not:
“They are trying to figure out a way to split without divorcing. This is a huge concert tour and they’ve already gotten most of the money from the promoters up front.”
The only thing those two whores love more than attention is money, so this must be a tough decision for them. While Stuntyoncé and Jay-Z would no doubt kill for the chance to milk the hell out of a public divorce, they also want to keep counting their money without getting that guilty feeling that comes from swindling gullible fools at $75 a pop. That’s what’s known in the legal community calls a Katch-22, aka ”The Kardashian Connundrum”.
And how dare I refer to Blue Ivy a band-aid baby! I should know better. Band-aids are for commoners. Surely there’s some kind of luxury designer adhesive bandage product on the market. Maybe in France? Oh shit, I spoke to soon…
Arya Stark From Game Of Thrones Slaps At British Airways For Not Letting Her Into The Business Class Lounge
Teenagers really have it the worst and rich, famous teenagers have it worser than worse, because they’re used to hearing “yes” most of the time, but every now and again some evil torturer has to tell them “no” and being told “no” when you’re a famous teenager is worse than getting shot at during war (that line is sponsored by a teenage Goopy Paltrow). 17-year-old Maisie Williams from Game of Thrones knows what I’m talking about, because over the weekend she suffered through some real struggle when she tried to sashay into British Airways’ business class lounge and was denied at the door because she’s under the age of 18. British Airways told The Daily Mail that kids under the age of 18 aren’t allowed into the business class lounge without a parent, because there’s a beautiful, unattended, self-serve open bar in there and we all know that teenagers would guzzle all of it down if they could, because they’re greedy.
Maisie and her luxurious Woolly Bear Caterpillar brows didn’t take their plight to the United Nations since their human rights were obviously violated. But Maisie did jump onto Twitter and yelled at British Airways, because she, a Business Class-paying Business Class citizen, should be able to stand on Business Class soil.
So Maisie Williams, a celebrity, was denied entrance into the British Airways business class lounge and nothing was done about it? I take back everything I said about Kanye West. He was absolutely, one hundred percent right as usual! Celebrities are treated exactly the way black people were in 1960s America!
When George Clooney ties the knot with fancy London lawyer Amal Alamuddin (I love typing her name because it always makes me think of a scoop of ice cream drizzled with TGI Friday’s Mudslide mix) it will be more than just a wedding, it will be a baptism. The second George slips another very fancy ring on Amal’s fancy finger and promises to love, honor, and cherish her while wobbling his head in that charming George Clooney way, it will wash away the years he spent whipping around Lake Como with topless 25-year-old party girls on his jet ski.
Well, at least that’s what he thinks will happen. Regina George called up Variety to bitch about his recent wig-snatching fight with The Daily Mail over some not-true comments about his fiancé and her family (mostly about them being ashamed she was marrying Booker from Roseanne) and he didn’t really say anything new, since there are only so many ways you can say “OMG, they’re like, obsessed with me, right? It’s so pathetic.” But he did end the conversation by reminding us that, yeah, Amal is about to get hitched to Booker from Roseanne, saying:
“I’m marrying up.”
Ouch! George, how dare you? I know Amal Alamuddin is a ~very~ fancy lady, but it’s not exactly his first time at the Pure Class and Refined Sophistication Rodeo. Has he already forgotten about Sarah Larson? Stacy Keibler? ELISABETTA CANALIS?!?! Newsflash, George! It’s not technically “marrying up” if you’ve already had the cream of the crop, aka a coke-gobbling Italian showgirl with a tribal armband tattoo.
Pic: Fame Flynet