For years, John Goodman has talked about his journey to SkinnyVille, and it all started when he gave up the sweet nectar in 2007. John once told David Letterman that he was 400 pounds at his biggest and thanks to putting healthier things in his mouth and exercising, the chunk has slowly melted off of his body and it keeps melting off. At last night’s premiere of Trumbo at the BFI London Film Festival, a bunch of people asked, “Harpo, who dis skinny woman?“, when a FUPA-less John Goodman strolled on by. A bunch of melodramatic people are saying shit like, “That’s not John Goodman!” I still see John Goodman.
I loved Dan Conner when he was fat and I love Dan Conner now. But since 2015 is the year when our favorites say and do some fucked-up shit, I’m not going to be too surprised if I hear that he lost the weight after he sacrificed a litter of kittens to the devil.
And here’s more of John Goodman with his co-stars Bryan Cranston and Dame Helen Mirren, who dressed up like a Who from Whoville going to a baby’s christening.
I’ve got some sad, tragic news for you if your name is Watermelondrea and your dream in life is to work for Raven-Symoné. She’s never going to hire you and it’s all because your parents decided to write the name “Watermelondrea” on your birth certificate.
On yesterday’s episode, the hen house of foolery that we know as The View discussed a recent study that found that Americans make racist assumptions based on someone’s name alone. They played a clip from YouTube of kids saying “ghetto” names like Fo’Landra. Of course, we all know that prospective employers discriminate against people based on their born name, race, religion, gender, fatness, skinniness, sexuality, etc… etc… It’s illegal, but hos still do it. And during yesterday’s discussion, Raven let everyone know that she’d gladly discriminate against anyone with a name like Watermelondrea. That really is SO Raven.
“Just to bring it back, can we take back ‘racist’ and say ‘discriminatory,’ because I think that’s a better word. That’s a better word. And I’m very discriminatory against words like the ones they were saying in those names. I’m not about to hire you if your name is Watermelondrea. It’s just not going to happen. I’m not going to hire you.”
Of course, this made Twitter (and beyond) tell Raven-Symoné to get the fuck out and to take her silent accented e with her. Raven hasn’t said anything about this yet, but I’m sure that on Monday’s episode of The View, Raven will apologize and will do a sit-down interview with a woman named Watermelondrea about name discrimination. At the end of the interview, Raven will give Watermelondrea a job as her new assistant. That’s damage control The View-style. But I don’t know why you’d want to be Raven’s assistant anyway. I mean, she’ll probably make you catch a damn bird and kill it so she can wear it on her head. And it’s a good thing for Raven that the producers of The View didn’t say, “I’m not about to hire you if you come in here looking like Foghorn Leghorn’s daughter” when considering her for the job. Here’s the clip if you need to see it:
And when something you say makes Whoopi Goldberg clutch her pearls…..
No, I’m not going to guess what that finger smells like, because I’m way too hungover and not drunk enough for that.
The world hasn’t been the same ever since Justin Bieber’s Canadian breakfast sausage hit the Internet. Lives and relationships have been destroyed. Case in point: One of my friends said to me, “I can’t believe Justin Bieber’s dick is more impressive than Lenny Kravitz’s.” I would tell you that friend’s name, but I erased it from my memory, because she is forever dead to me now.
Speaking of erasing stuff, Justin Bieber’s lawyers are trying to scrub the Internet of the pictures of Biebs’ peen breathing in the Bora Bora air. The Hollywood Reporter says that his lawyers have hit the New York Daily News, the first ones to post the pics, with a cease and desist letter and are demanding that they yank Justin Bieber’s dick. As of right this second, the pictures are still up on the NYDN’s site.
Last March, this instant literary classic was released on Amazon and immediately joined Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre at the top of the list of the greatest romance novels in history, and I just found out about it a few days ago. Since I consider myself an aficionado of the greats (e.g. EVERY Jackie Collins book, the Sleeping Beauty series by Anne Rice and Taken By The Pterodactyl), I am so disappointed and need to slap myself in the face for not knowing about this literary wonder sooner. I should start reading The New York Times Book Review, because I’m sure they gave Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt a perfect review.
Chuck Tingle, the genius behind (punned on purpose) this masterpiece, is mostly known for writing dino erotica, but he climbed to new levels of HIGH ART when he wrote this riveting tail (typo’d and punned on purpose, again) of a cloning expert who falls in love with a flying clone of his own ass. This beautiful romance between a man and an ass is not to be confused with the real-life fake romance between Kanye West and Kim Kartrashian and the real-life romance between Kanye West and Kanye West. This is a real love story and I can say that without even reading it, because the synopsis tells me there’s cream pies and sentient butt love in it. Every great love story has cream pies and sentient butt love.
Kirk is a scientific researcher on the leading edge of cloning technology, but his team has reached a standstill. In an effort to stabilize rapid clone growth, researchers have been taking DNA from various parts of their bodies and combining it with small amounts of animal DNA.
But when the scientists combine samples from Kirk’s butt, brain, and a hawk, the resulting effect is a handsome, living ass who immediately sweeps Kirk off of his feet over a candlelit dinner for two.
Kirk has finally found a lover that truly understands him at his very core… his own gay ass!
This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on gay ass action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, cream pies and sentient butt love.
SPOILER ALERT: In the end, Kirk’s flying ass boyfriend magically grows a dick and fucks him. Now that is a real happy ending.
And when the Pulitzer Prize winners for 2015 are announced next year, I fully expect the committee to announce that Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt is the winner of every single category. The committee will then announce that they are shutting down and the Pulitzers will be no more, because nothing can ever be as great as this work of perfection.
PJ Harvey (46)
Bella Hadid (19)
Jodelle Ferland (21)
Scotty McCreery (22)
Tyler James Williams (23)
Spencer Grammer (32)
Colin Donnell (33)
Zachery Ty Bryan (34)
Chris O’Dowd (36)
Brandon Routh (36)
Randy Spelling (37)
Nicky Byrne (37)
Sean Lennon (40)
Steve Burns (42)
Jason Butler Harner (45)
Pete Docter (47)
Guillermo Del Toro (51)
Scott Bakula (61)
John O’Hurley (61)
Tony Shalhoub (62)
Sharon Osbourne (63)
Jackson Browne (67)
Nona Hendryx (71)
Fyvush Finkel (93)
John Lennon (1940-1980)
Pic: Style Rookie
Prince Hot Ginge was given some special rugby boots with his name on them while visiting the Paignton Rugby Club. I have shoes just like that! Except mine say “Mr. Prince Harry” on them and I wear them with my “Husband of Prince Harry” half t-shirt and my customized ass-less sweats with the words “Property Of Hot Ginge” on the crotch. When I wear that outfit out, everybody gives me compliments. “I’m calling the police on you, you crazy fuck” is a compliment, right? – Lainey Gossip
Ronda Rousey is going to pummel Justin Bieber until he’s a puddle of syrup and then she’s going to enjoy that syrup with a stack of pancakes. Yes, it’ll have a slight taste of dirty douche water, but Ronda will still enjoy it – The Superficial
Meanwhile, the gay mafia hibernates in their den… – Towleroad
Kate Winslet is in lingerie in Esquire – Hollywood Tuna
Bradley Cooper’s ex-beard is in Vogue Brazil – Drunken Stepfather
This pig is on bath salts – The Berry
Holly Madison thinks “Jessica” is a stripper name and also thinks having a stripper name is a bad thing – Celebitchy
In that orange dress, Cate Blanchett looks like a Three’s Company extra and I’m into it – Just Jared
Kiki Dunst’s dress looks like leather made from baby diarrhea – Popoholic
That pig’s side-eye says everything that needs to be said – SOW
Panty Creamer of the Day: Liam Hemsworth’s nipples – Popsugar
Backdoor Farrah is continuing to prove that her delusion knows no bounds – Reality Tea
And Kelly Rutherford is continuing to prove that her gift for crying to the press knows no bounds – Jezebel
Nicole Brown’s dog is the lone star of the newest teaser for American Crime Story: The People vs O.J. Simpson – OMG Blog
Kanye West totally designed RiRi’s album cover – Boy Culture
On the left is a ginger goddess of posing perfection wearing the finest custom-couture from the House of Saran Wrap and Walgreens, and on the right is some bottom tier trailer chipmunk trying to give us fashion and failing at it.
Phoebe Price started Slutoween off the right way by modeling more elegant and expensive versions of Miley Cyrus’ MTV VMA outfits. PP was shot by a world-renowned photographer (or a paparazzo she called, same thing) in one of the most exclusive photo studios in Paris (or her garage, same thing) for French Vogue (or French Guiana Penthouse, again, same thing). Comparing Chicken Cutlets and Miley Cyrus is like comparing a flawless rare diamond worth millions and a raccoon’s kidney stone. You know, that side-by-side picture should be used in mental health evaluations. The psychiatrist should hold up that picture and ask, “Who worked it better?” If the first letter that comes out of the patient’s mouth isn’t a P, they should be dragged off to a padded cell immediately!
Pics: Splash, Getty
You probably read that headline question and looked at that picture and wondered, “Errr, doesn’t David Lee Crosby already live in the US and the hell kind of shit is he on?”
That’s Randy Quaid and he may be back inside the US as early as next week. We’ve all been warned. Randy was arrested in Montreal yesterday morning during one of his regular check-ups with Canada Border Services. When Randy’s application for permanent residency in Canada was denied in 2013 due to felony vandalism charges he faces in Santa Barbara, CA, he was supposed to go a hearing with the Immigration and Refugee Board. Randy farted on that hearing by not going. A warrant was issued for his arrest in 2013 and the police lost track of him and his batshit wife Evi Quaid until this past April. Randy was arrested and was later released on $10,000 bail. Randy had to check-in with Border Services regularly and that leads us up to him getting put into handcuffs again yesterday.
The Summer Olympics are still 10 months away, so there’s plenty of time to add guinea pig tug-o-war to the list of events. This is what the Olympics needs! This video of two guinea pig sisters fighting over a blade of grass has been watched over 40 million times since it was uploaded to Facebook a few days ago. 39.9 million of those views probably came from me. Some people have called this video a “Lady and the Tramp” moment. Those people are disgusting! These guinea pigs are sisters and their names are Grace and Suzie, not Kylie and Kendall.
Gracie and Suzie (sisters) play tug of war in slow motion! ❤️ Jukin Media Verified (Original)* For licensing / permission to use: Contact – licensing(at)jukinmediadotcom
Posted by Bivoir Cavies on Friday, October 2, 2015
The only way this video could get any better is if they were both drunk and were on a raft in North Carolina.
Q: How can you make my favorite state Florida a thousand times crazier?
A: Inject some Tom Cruise into it!
Floridians better curb their glibness, because the Prince of Scientology may become a full-time citizen of their land. Tommy is currently trying to sell his 10,000 square foot Beverly Hills mansion on the down low for $50 million. So if you have $50 million and you’re looking for a mansion that’s got an underground cell for your prison bride and an enormous shoe closet to house all of your high heels in, look no more. But Tommy isn’t looking for another mansion in Los Angeles. A source tells UsWeekly that he wants to live closer to Scientology’s headquarters in Clearwater, FL.
“Tom hates living in L.A. and is relocating to Florida,” a source reveals in the new issue of Us Weekly. “He thinks all the people in Hollywood are fake.”
The Scientologist, 53, who listed his Beverly Hills mansion for $59 million, is also looking forward to being closer to his church’s headquarters in Clearwater, Fla. Fellow believer John Travolta “loves his life there and inspired Tom,” says the source. “He was ready to go.”
Tommy does have a point. People in Hollywood are really fake and I bet even their Thetans are filled with Botox and silicone. It’s best that he goes off to Florida to be with real, sane people who believe in real things like an intergalactic dictator who ruled a space confederacy 75 million years ago and brought his billions of followers to earth so he could stack them around volcanoes and kill them with hydrogen bombs. Real stuff like that.
And honestly, if Tommy Girl moves to Florida, I’m sure the state’s production of authentic fuckery will drop by a huge percentage. Because all of the gator fuckers, meth heads and beautiful messes are going to throw up their hands and say, “There goes the neighborhood,” before moving to another state.