Since Taylor Swift lives her life like she's a damn Strawberry Shortcake character, she went apple picking with Jakey Gyllenhaal on Saturday afternoon at a farm in Hopewell Junction, New York. And no, apple picking is not some kind of sex act involving eating several rolls of Saran Wrap and eating apple slices out of a....forget it. What I'm getting at is that they actually picked apples! I swear, skipping and giggling, these two.
A source tells UsWeekly that before their stroll through Park Slope on Sunday, Jakey and Taylor twirled through the Fishkill Farms. The source went on to say this mess, "They were walking through the trees, having fun together. They looked happy. Some of the customers tried to take a photo of them, but they were hiding from them in the trees. They drove through the orchard and bought the apples on the way out."
Hiding in the trees?! Fuck Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher. They're more like the Fox and the Hound. The song about this shit is practically writing itself.... "The apple in the tree... Why couldn't you let it be? You picked at my heart.... You tore it apart. I thought you were my white knight, Jake and now I'm falling back into the field of heartache..."
And I bet for their next date they are going to go antiquing followed by a tea tasting under a weeping willow tree. Taylor's publicist (or whoever paired these two together), you crazy for this one!
Need the perfect monster costume to throw some permanent scare on the dumb neighborhood children who don't know that the international sign for DON'T EVEN is a turned off porch light? Or to wear for the kinky dude in your life who rubs his foreskin to pictures of Jocelyn Wildenstein and always licks his lips when Dorothy Zbornak floats onto the TV screen (But who doesn't, right?). The scary Grocery Store Monster costume from the Snickers commercial is just what your ass needs and it can be all yours! Clothes Off Your Back is auctioning off the mask and robe used in the commercial and the bid is at $250 right now with less than 2 days left. But if you'd rather spend $250 on whores and the bad shit, you can make your own using a printed out picture of Xtina and a leopard Snuggie.
After Carey Mulligan and Shia LaDouche flushed their relationship down the urinal of broken hearts for the final time, she had to stay in L.A. to shoot a film. So she moved out of Shia's fancy million dollar house and into the Best Western Hollywood Hills (not the one pictured above, obviously). Carey doesn't need imported Swiss truffles on her pillow (stuffed with the feathers from a unicorn's wing) every night or a toilet that uses Volvic water instead of tap. No, Carey just needs a bed and a 3-cup coffee machine. This is what Carey told People at last night's Hollywood Film Awards:
"I don't know why people are so down on the Best Western. They have the best sweet potato fries I've ever had."
Who is talking dirt about the Best Western? Oh, I know who is. Obviously, nobody at the Daily Mail has stayed at a Best Western. That shit is nice. I mean, they have not-so-stale croissants at the breakfast bar and I've never once thought to myself "This pillow was totally used to suffocate a crack whore" at bedtime. That is practically luxury! I've stayed at some decrepit dumps that make the Best Western look like The Golden Palace.
There was this one no-tell motel in Downtown San Diego that took the goddamn cake and smashed it. At the check-in counter, they had a note taped to the bulletproof glass window that read: "We are not responsible for any bodily injuries that may occur in your room - Management." First of all, who is this management? They are acting like they have weekly company meetings in the conference room where they throw around ideas while passing around a bagel platter. MOTEL PLEASE! Second of all, somebody actually typed out that memo on a computer with a straight face and straight fingers. Third of all, nothing makes me want to close my eyes in a strange room like knowing that if a crazed murderous bitch (aka a member of management) stabbed me in the gut in the middle of the night and I crawled down to the lobby while bleeding to death, the front desk clerk would simply point me towards the pay phone in the lobby. Yeah, but I still stayed there a second night. Well, it was like $30 a night and I didn't want to waste my drinkin' money!
Demi Moore wearing the perfect outfit to bust out her "ostrich trying to fly" dance moves at any time - Lainey Gossip
Meanwhile, Papa Joe just rolled himself in batter and is about to jump into the deep fryer - The Superficial
Dude is really excited to be hugging a naked Gis Bundchen - Hollywood Tuna
Xavier Samuel needs to wear less clothes - The Berry
Get me one of these!!!! - Towleroad
Halle Berry and Lenny Kravitz must share a stylist - Popoholic
Oh, Crystal Renn is just looking to see if she has any boogers up in there (site NSFW) - Drunken Stepfather
Blasphemy! Disney is cutting Keef Richards out of POTC4 - Celebitchy
Prettier than two pastel ponies licking on a rainbow lollipop - Popsugar
Brothers & Sisters is getting more Balthazar Getty - ICYDK
Amber Rose, we know your story already! We've all seen Mannequin a bunch of times - Crunk + Disorderly
Jon Stewart is like really influential - Cityrag
Kara DIOSMIO just won't go the fuck away!!!!!! - I'm Not Obsessed
Detective La Toya and a shopping cart - Hollywood Rag
Definitely needs more Eric Stoltz - SOW
Nicolette Sheridan's pearl necklace is a nice touch - Celebslam
This post has nothing to do with the silicone glazed orchid we all know as Pete Burns, but he's a global pop star who lives in London and who definitely has "highly sensitive" pictures worth at least £2,000 each (give or take 3 zeros), so it works! Anyways, a 24-year-old man named Sebastian Bennett was convicted in London today of breaking into a famous pop star's home in the middle of the night, stealing two of her lap tops and then blackmailing her for thousands with a few "highly sensitive" pictures he found on her hard drive. The pop star wants to keep a giant question mark over her face so she has taken out a court order banning the media from dropping her name. Magnifying glasses up!
Last November, the mysterious pop star lost her house keys while going to get her hair done. Her keys somehow landed into the hands of Sebastian Bennett. That night, a man (probably Sebastian) used the keys and snuck into her house while she was asleep. The burglar almost got caught when one of her relatives, who was asleep in another room, woke up. The burglar ran out of the apartment with two of her laptops and a set of car keys. The pop star thought that was that and then the emails started showing up in her inbox...
The blackmail demanded £20,000 for 27 "highly sensitive" (in case you didn't know already, these pictures are HIGHLY SENSITIVE) pictures of the pop star. If she didn't pay up, he was going to start shopping them to the media. He told her he could probably get at least £54,000 for them so she was getting a discount. To make a long story less long, the pop star set up a sting operation with the cops and the bitch got nabbed! The end. But who is this mysterious pop star with HIGHLY SENSITIVE pictures? This is what we know:
1) She's a world famous pop star
2) She's "instantly recognizable"
3) She has a house in London
All signs point to Pete Burns again! No. The Detective La Toya who lives in the parlor room in my head tells me this is Lily Allen. My inner DTL also tells me these HIGHLY SENSITIVE pictures aren't of her nipples or of her making a Hitler salute in a sexy KKK outfit or anything like that. I bet the pictures are of her watching a Justin Bieber video all the way through. That shit is beyond damaging.
via Telegraph (Thanks Jim)
Whenever my mother dragged my ass to church as a kid, you'd always find me lying down on one of the pews in the back with a box of Fig Newtons in my hand and an "OVER THIS" look on my face. But this baby is not like me because she's feeling whatever is coming her way. You know what's coming her way? The hypnotic moves Jesus' main fly girl is serving. Obviously.
And this is pretty much me whenever I watch Showgirls.
At last night's For Colored Girls premiere in NYC, Roshumba, a model type who's also a judge on that She's Got The Look mess, showed up looking like her asshole was trying to play a game of Hongray Hongray Hippo with her dress. Wearing Mrs. Brady's honeymoon outfit out in public is one thing, but wearing a dress that sucks to your nalgas and makes those around you think that your no-no could suck the mole off of Blake Lively is another. The only thing I have to say about this is, where did Roshumba get that dress, because Gay Al Reynolds is going to want one in every damn color.
Here's a few more pictures from last night's premiere which doubled as the Super Bowl of eyebrow game. In order: Roshumba and her "look at this power bottom" dress, Janet Jackson with
her piece guest, Thandie Newton, Macy Gray, RUBY DEE!!!!, Ashford & Simpson, Phylicia Rashad, Loretta Devine and Patti LaBelle.
The CRAZY Quaids' "National Lampoon's Escape to Canada" plan fell apart over the weekend when they were caught by Vancouver police and turned over to immigration officials. Randy and Evi Quaid begged Canada to save them from the "Hollywood whackers" who are responsible for the tragic deaths of their friends including Heath Ledger and David Carradine. Well, another member of the Quaid family might be turned into glue, or since this Canada we're talking about, maple syrup. Or better yet, that brown glue that sort of looks like burnt honey. Anyways, this is not about glue that looks like honey! This is about the Quaids' poor dog Doji.
TMZ says that Doji was with Randy and Evi when their refugee dreams were popped. When Randy and Evi were shuffled off to the nearest jail cell, Doji was taken to an animal shelter in Vancouver. Cousin Eddie has yet to pick up Doji from the shelter, and apparently Vancouver law states that any jailed dog that hasn't been claimed for more than 3 days becomes property of the city. The keeper of the pound then has the right to either put the dog up for adoption or send it on a premature trip to heaven!
Vancouver Animal Control tells TMZ that they try their hardest to find every dog a new home before they resort to giving it a death kiss to the veins :(
Dennis, get your ass to Canada and save this dog! But seriously, now that the news of Doji's incarceration is making the rounds, I'm sure Animal Control isn't going to tuck him in for a permanent mimis. Doji will be saved (I hope). Besides, sitting in a doggy jail cell is probably better than Randy and Evi always checking the insides of your ears for hidden recording devices planted by their enemies.
Charlie Sheen's life is just a leased Mercedes that keeps crashing into a ditch over and over again. It gets pulled out, dusted off and then it goes careening down the hill again. Well, Charlie's latest crash happened early this morning at The Plaza Hotel in NYC. The police were called after Charlie trashed his hotel suite in a drunken rage. Sources say that Charlie accused an unidentified woman (aka a premium pussy peddler) of stealing his wallet. Charlie is in town for a family trip with his ex-wife Denise Richards. Yeah, some hos like to end a day with the family by sucking on a bong filled with whatever in a Calgon bath, but Charlie likes to end it by snorting a speedball off a whore's labia before beating up a chandelier.
The New York Post says that the police found Charlie fucked up in more ways than one, so they took him to the nearest hospital. Denise Richards went with him, because if anybody's an expert at johns gone wild, she is.
But the plot thickens like the vomit rising from a call girl's froat when she finds out she has to fuck on Charlie Sheen. A different source tells Life & Style that when police walked into the suite, Charlie was passed out on the bed and the hooker was locked inside of a closet screaming her clit off. The source painted this lovely picture, "She was fearing for her life and was naked. Charlie was incoherent but started screaming slurs at the cops. They recognized him immediately and gave him two options: they could take him to the hospital or take him down to the station. Charlie chose the hospital."
TMZ is hearing that Charlie was hospitalized with a serious case of the drunks, but others are saying that the bitch OD'ed.
Locking a nekkid call girl in the closet? This cunt plug really knows how to throw a party. You know, I would say that Charlie is getting too old for this shit, but he's never going to be too old for this shit. In 30 years, The New York Post will have a story about how Charlie was found passed out on his walker with an IV drip full of vodka in his arm and a paid piece from the Hos 4 Olds Agency locked in his nursing home toilet room.
UPDATE: Charlie's rep has a good one for you. His rep took to the mic at amateur night and said that Charlie merely had "an allergic reaction to some medication" and will be released from the hospital tomorrow. Always blaming the dealer. The dealer must have cut his shit with the wrong stuff which made him beat up a chandelier and lock a call girl in the closet. The surgeon general should put that warning on every 8-ball.
Australian tennis star Lleyton Hewitt and his wife Bec aren't only fashion masterminds (see the glorious 90s mess above, which I swear I've seen before on a member of Jade or maybe in a dressing room discard bin at Judy's circa 1994), they are also geniuses when it comes to pulling every last dollar and bit of attention out of the birth of their baby. Aspiring fame whores, exorcise dignity from your system (which you've already done by coming on to this site) and take note!
Lleyton and Bec's daughter was born this past weekend and they are planning to announce her name later this week...for a price. Yahoo! Sports says that Lleyton and Bec have teamed up with "Text A Star" to deliver the name of their baby for $2 a message. Now you can get fucked for $2 a minute without pressing 9-0-0.
When the media started to get on Lleyton and Bec for putting their baby's name on the corner and forcing it take shake its ass for two dollas, he wrote this on his website:
Some sections of the media have as usual found it opportune to place some spin on reality by suggesting we have taken this approach just to make money. Certain media people believe that are the only ones who should have an exclusive. In this instance we made a decision that my fans deserve to know first, and the general public second. That's what we have done and just look at how many of the media have reported it. I've always assured my fans that they'd be the 1st to know on Text a Star and that's why I am part of such a great program, as I can send it straight from my mobile directly to theirs.
"We care about our fans so much that we are going to charge them two dollars for a series of letters they can read ANYWHERE FUCKING ELSE FOR FREE ONCE IT LEAKS!!!!" Hahaha. Those dumb bitches have outdone everybody. Let's just hope they keep the shameless whoring going by charging another $2 for their baby's first burp, fart, and her first words which will totally be "TEXT A STAR."