Leave it t professional polyester life mess Dina Lohan to find a way to make Michael Lohan’s wedding seem even trashier. Oh, White Oprah – how I’ve missed you, you gorgeous wine-scented butter-colored cocker spaniel. On Tuesday, TMZ broke the news that human ball rash Michael Lohan had married former Jon Gosselin humper and current knocked-up drunk muppet Kate Major on a beach in Florida last month. But White Oprah isn’t so sure about the whole thing.
TMZ caught up with The Ghost of Lindsay Lohan Future at LAX yesterday and asked if she knew about her ex-husband getting married (since his own kids sure as hell didn’t), and Dina answers that Michael texted her and told her he didn’t actually get married, adding the 4 words that most accurately define White Oprah: “I’m kind of confused.” That’s when TMZ tells Dina that there are pictures of Michael and Kate’s wedding, to which Dina calls bullshit, saying: “I don’t know, he said he didn’t, but then again…“. And because she’s nicknamed White Oprah for a reason, she ends the conversation by telling TMZ to “Follow the light“. I think she means the light to the fridge. Follow the light, and you’ll always find a chilled box of white wine!
Oh boy, who to believe? The messy lie-telling parent who says they got married or the messy lie-telling parent who says they didn’t? I mean, there’s a 98% chance that White Oprah was three sheets to the wind when they spoke to her in the airport, and she’s probably recalling a text conversation from 4 years ago, but there’s an even greater chance that Lindsay’s attention whore of a father faked the whole thing to get attention. The only way to get the truth is to interrogate Kate Major’s trash rat acrylic nails. Exquisite amateur porn star blowjob nail tips never lie!
Yesterday, an email dropped into my inbox with the subject “KFed’s dick!” and I clicked on that shit like the year was 2003 and I had a brand new bottle of Cheetos-scented lube next to me. I didn’t care if it was KFed’s dick during his PopoZao phase or KFed’s dick today, because I’m thirstier than Kristin Scott Thomas when she was dying in that cave in The English Patient.
But then I clicked on the link and the truth dick-slapped me right in the face. It totally wasn’t KFed’s salchicha, because the peen was completely queso-free and the bed sheets in the picture were way too clean and not covered in Doritos crumbs, In-N-Out wrappers and stains that may or may not be from Taco Bell refried beans. Not KFed!
The real life inspiration for Sweet Dee’s mentally challenged rapper piece tells TMZ that he’s seen the picture making the rounds and the beef wellington peen in the picture doesn’t belong to him. KFed’s crotch tattoos aren’t in the picture and his peen is way bigger. So he says. Yeah, you could make a joke about how it must be huge if KFed can see it past his FUPA, but I’ve always thought he had a Pringle can dick. Brit Brit was obviously dickmatized and he didn’t get “PopoZao” from the Brazilians. It’s what Brit Brit screamed the first time he stuck the tip in.
Anyway, I’ll stop with the words now and get to the dick. If you haven’t already seen Not KFed’s dick, click here to see. I’d hit it, whoever that is.
Deciding that any attention is better than no attention, Lady Caca settled on performing at the untelevised American Masturbation Awards last weekend. – Shadeball
There once was a young girl named Doris
Whose bones were unusually porous.
This allowed her to bend
So she dumped all her friends
And stayed home to French kiss her clitoris. – Strepsi
The uncensored pic is after the cut, because I have no clue if your work manual states that you must not look at any pictures from the coochie licking circus.
Whistle Pops (and Chupa Chups Melody Pops) came from the 80s and 90s, but they still exist today, which is surprising since you’d think that the government would have declared them weapons of mass destruction and destroyed them all. Whistle Pops are exactly what they look like. They’re lollipops that make sound. We know that Lucifer is alive and well and walks amongst us on earth, because he obviously created these dark-sided tools of torture to fuck with the nerves of parents and drive them over the edge.
I haven’t blown one of these in years (I can say that about a lot of things, I know), but I remember it sounding worse than JLo’s live singing voice and spit collected on the inside of it. It became a corn syrup and kid spit lollipop real quick. But it still brought minutes and minutes of entertainment. It was also the perfect parent repellant. As soon as you started playing it, your parents would pack up all their shit, leave you $15 for a pizza, throw their shit in the car, back up out of the driveway and drive like they were Thelma & Louise heading for Mexico. By the time you were done playing your Whistle Pop, you’d be an orphan and your parents would be listening to the sound of beautiful silence far, far away.
You should really get a Whistle Pop before going to your family’s house for Thanksgiving. If they say any shit you’re not into, just pull out your Whistle Pop and blow until they disappear.
Tina Turner (75)
Rita Ora (24)
Kat DeLuna (27)
Lil’ Fizz (29)
Natasha Bedingfield (33)
Tammy Lynn Michaels (40)
Peter Facinelli (41)
Kristin Bauer van Straten (48)
Garcelle Beauvais (48)
Scott Adsit (49)
Lisa Moretti (53)
Ilona Staller (63)
John McVie (69)
Jean Terrell of The Supremes (70)
Rich Little (76)
I’m not sure why Rihanna is dressed like a late-90s JNCO-wearing E-gobbling Bif Naked-loving suburban skate park raver, but I don’t hate it – Lainey Gossip
Claudia Jordan from RHOA is wearing a dress that I can only describe as Sexy Mega Man, and now I’m really curious what that says about me (“It says you’re a huge nerd!” screamed my vintage Nintendo video game collection) – Reality Tea
Reese Witherspoon’s daughter Ava Phillippe is serving up some sassy teenage Glimmer from She-Ra realness, and that’s never a bad thing – Celebitchy
And that’s how you get a cease-and-desist letter from Austin Powers – Hollywood Tuna
Happy Thanksgiving from Chlöe Sevigny’s non-union equivalent! – Towleroad
There’s a Dollar Tree version of everyone if you look hard enough. Case in point, Ela Rose, the Dollar Tree Chrissy Teigen – WWTDD
Cut to John Mayer’s penis sending Josh Kelley a Thank You gift basket – The Superficial
Here is a picture of Chelsea Handler resting her tits on a boom box, if you need that in your life – (NSFW) Drunken Stepfather
Apparently billion-dollar soap tycoon Jessica Alba doesn’t work out with 3lb bottles of dish soap like I assumed she did – Popoholic
I always read #21 in the voice of The Deaner, like “fuckin’ twigs” – Popsugar
Kate Hudson says you’ve got to work out if you want to lose weight, but what I want to know is for why is she wearing an extra-large napkin as a dress? – ICYDK
15 people (and one security guard) showed up to a Fifth Harmony show, which actually isn’t too bad considering it looks like they performed on the side of the road – OMG Blog
Why do I get the feeling Courteney Cox could swear those bitches under the table like a champ? – SOW
Cool, but what I’d really like are some dick pics of Ikaika Kahoano – Just Jared
Hollywood, you can reboot any 80s movie you want, just PLEASE don’t touch The ‘Burbs! – Pajiba
Ariana Grande Latte swipes back at Bette Midler for calling her a trampy toddler-voiced hussy – Jezebel
Alternate title for #11: the Dlisted office dress code – The Berry
Sometimes I really miss Lady CaCa’s (I said sometimes, ho) acts of desperate, shameless fuckery and today I really needed the laughs this disastrous mess brought me. Thank you, Gaga.
Before going into the closing party for her ArtRave tour in Paris last night, Lady CaCa stood on the sidewalk and completely transformed into a gigantic spiked asshole by inflating her Party City costume. An inflated costume to match her inflated ego. It’s a perfect marriage. Bitch looks like a humongous Christmas tree ornament and where was a 20 foot cat when we really, really needed one?
The video is even more of a gift. CaCa’s standing there on the sidewalk with a look on her face that’s supposed to say, “I am BIG, it’s the pictures that got small,” but she looks more like she’s trying to sneeze and cough at the same time. I know, an inflatable star. That a metaphor that’s stabbing you in the face.
I don’t exactly know where the pump is, but judging by the look on her face, we know exactly where the pumps is. Or maybe her farts are keeping it inflated.
If you’re screaming at CaCa to have a seat, look at her. She can’t have a seat. Tell her to have a lean instead.
Sleepy-voiced grandpa Tom Brokaw must have some pull with God, because he was recently given the honor of sitting down with Heaven’s Ambassador to Earth Dame St. Angelina Jolie for an interview for the TODAY show. No, it’s actually because he’s making a documentary with her about the making of her film Unbroken (working title: Unbroken: The Story of St. Angie’s Twig-Like Arms).
And speaking of grandpas, Tom opens the interview by asking Angie a point-blank question about her marriage to human drug rug Brad Pitt, specifically if anything has changed since they made it legal. This is where I thought DSt.A was going to hiss “Well, we’ve started having more smoke-filled fights on a fancy balconies, for one thing” but she says the only thing that’s really changed is that she’s still trying to get used to being a wife.
“I think we have more moments where I say, ‘I’m going to be a better wife! I’m going to learn to cook,’ and he says, ‘Oh honey, know what you’re good at, know what you’re not.’ He knows my limitations and where I’m a good wife and a good mom.”
Oh, how sweet of Dame St. Angie to pretend she’s bad at something! That’s really very kind of her to act like she doesn’t wake up every morning on a bed of baby angel wings, float down the stairs of Château du Cheekbones, perform a series of breakfast miracles like turning water into freshly-squeezed orange juice and poaching eggs with the warmth of her heart, then chuckling a lighthearted laugh when Brad shuffles into the kitchen, bypasses the beautiful spread she’s created, and pours milk directly into a box of Lucky Charms.
And here’s Dame St. Angie of the People at the UK premiere of Unbroken looking like a skinny alien clone of Kate Middleton.
Scientists and animal experts will tell you that luck dragons are usually very maternal and The NeverEnding Story showed us that they usually have words of support and wisdom for young humans. That trait must’ve passed LeAnn Rimes by.
LeAnn did a looooooooong interview with The Mail on Sunday (via InTouch) where she continued to show us that she lives in a fart bubble of delusion by saying that she and Eddie Cibrian were meant to be together and splitting up is not an option. (Cut to next year when the money train crashes and burns and Eddie leaves her for an extra from Vanderpump Rules.) LeAnn also talked about her upbringing and how she was the one putting food on the table at a really young age. LeAnn says that when she was a kid, she was EVERY kid. She was doing it all. So when she looks at her 11-year-old bonus son trying to get his shoe lace game together, she lets out a “pfft” over what a simpleton he is.
My mum and dad were not meant to be together. They got divorced when I was 14. I was sad but I was also fine; there was so much going on with my career that there wasn’t a lot of time to talk about it. But they instilled great values in me. I attribute my work ethic to my dad. He taught me to show up on time and know what I was doing. I have a great reputation in this business because of that. Most people don’t come back from things like my dad and I went through [the court case]. We didn’t speak for three and a half years. But now we are close. Eddie and I take his kids to visit my dad in Nashville.
I was super-driven as a kid. Even though I was on the road a lot, the teachers would give me homework and I would get it all done. I look at my 11-year-old stepson Mason, and I’m like, ‘I signed a record deal when I was your age. You’re still fumbling with tying your shoelaces.’
I went to Brand Glanville’s Twitter and it’s still standing and hasn’t collapsed into a pile of rage, wine-infused tears and ash, which is surprising.
LeAnn is seriously such a kind and supportive bonus mom. But you know, the paparazzi that she calls have taken pictures of her doing absolutely EVERYTHING and yet, I’ve never seen pictures of her tying her shoe laces. Hmmm… Come to think of it, I don’t think luck dragons can tie their shoe laces. Shoe laces confuse them. So yeah, she’s looking down at little Mason for not getting a record deal at the age of 11 and yet ho can’t even tie her own laces. Get off your high horse, high horse.
Here’s the kind and supportive bonus mom, her piece and her bonus kids at The Grove’s Christmas tree lighting ceremony the other day. I see LeAnn flirting with Santa while he’s wondering why Blitzen is saying human words to him.
Peter Pan is so NOW in Hollywood. They’re giving us that soon-to-be shipwreck TV Peter Pan musical starring Brian Williams’ daughter and next year they’re giving us that “international, multi-cultural” (the director’s words, not mine) Pan movie directed by Joe Wright. The trailer was released today and it’s so international and so multi-cultural that watching it will make you feel like you’re speeding through the It’s A Small World ride.
Pan is the untold story (when you’re told the story is untold, it’s probably been told before) of Peter Pan’s origins and it stars Hugh Jackmeoff as Blackbeard, Garrett GimmeHedlund as a young, sexy, pre-evil Captain Hook, Rooney Mara as Tiger Lily, Cara Delawhatever as a mermaid and Levi Miller as Peter Pan. The beginning of the trailer looks like every other fantasy movie out today and shit gets messy when Tiger Lily and her tribe of Coachella lizards pop up on the screen. If Joe Wright’s vision of Tiger Lily is a festival-hopping mess who loves molly and wears outfits from the House of You So Different, he should have just cast Coachella queen Vanessa Hudgens. She’s already got the costumes and she can do that “stoned Zoolander deer caught in the headlights” look better than Rooney can.
While watching the trailer, just focus on Garrett Hedlund’s swoon worthy tendrils and you should be okay:
Even Hugh Jackman looks a mess. I don’t like it when he wears clothes even when the clothes make him look like a medieval Liberace mixed with Gary Oldman’s Dracula. But I’m glad that one of John Travolta’s wigs got extra work on Hugh’s head.