On Thursday everyone was stunned when it was announced that Mariah Carey’s upcoming nuptials to billionaire gargoyle James Packer had been taken out back and put down for good. Actually, nobody was stunned at all, but who could have guessed what would come in the aftermath just a few days later? For starters, it appears James is on the crazy side. Another tale from behind the glitter (which would be the perfect title for her memoir) revealed Mimi’s request to be reimbursed for her wasted time, and finally the rumor that their unholy union ended because she was doing naked mattress dances with her hot-as-hell choreographer Bryan Tanaka. But Mimi immediately clapped back at those rumors with a huge ‘HELL NO!’
According to TMZ, Mimi quickly denounced having an affair with Hot Bryan, stating that her pristine purity isn’t worth sacrificing for any dude, including her ex-fiance James Packer. It’s no secret that Mimi’s not the one for back alley bone-fests or car quickies like most of these modern day Hollywood Whores (another great memoir title, but probably for The Kardashians). Mimi has a long standing reputation of celibacy before marriage, and sources claim that the reason James wanted to marry her in the first place was so he could say hello to her kitty. They lived together but had separate bedrooms. The passion in their romance was about as hot as two 1950s teens dry humping above the covers before church on Sunday afternoon. And now it’s over and they’re not going to get married. That’s a shame.
I would have loved to see what kind of antics Mimi would have brought to her third marriage. When she was married to Tommy Mottola back in the 90’s she was classic, glass shattering, record-breaking Mimi. By the time that shit was over and she married Nick Cannon she had (d)evolved into the current beloved Sparkletits Butterfly Princess desperately clinging to youth. After she married James I was just too certain she would become a Real Housewife throwing drinks in bitches faces and bathing in diamonds. Because Mimi is like that filthy rich, bat shit crazy aunt who calls everyone ‘doll’ and hands out Jean Nate scented $100 bills at Christmastime.