Beer heiress and Madge's arm twin Daphne Guinness says that contrary to popular belief, not all fashionista socialites keep their bodies as light the air under a hanger by barfing up bile into a solid gold toilet and cutting their coke with Airborne (a bitch has to have her vitamins). Using a fork is for the bougies and digesting solids is for the fatties. The Daily Mail says that during an interview with The New Yorker, Miss Daphne closed her lips to a plate of pasta and then let us know that her farts smells like a convalescent home and the kitchen sink for a frat house.
A new interview has revealed how she announced: 'I'll eat when I'm dead,' when offered lunch during a photo shoot.
Revealing that the 43-year-old had been existing on Red Bull and Ensure nutrition shakes for most of the day, the New Yorker told how she refused her assistant's offer of a plate of pasta.
She explained: 'If I eat, I can’t work.'
Daphne can't see her reflection in a mirror (everything makes sense now, I know), so technically she's a vampire, which means she doesn't eat anyway. But even if she did, I wouldn't take eatin' advice from her. You can't trust a ho who looks like a faded red ant sucking on Sour Patch Kids salt. And you really can't trust a ho who doesn't eat carbs and won't even drink her last name. She won't even drink her last name! The. Fuck.
Jessie J always looks like Madeline Kahn in Clue going to a costume party at a Czechoslovakian club as Nicki Minaj, so Forced Foolery is that bitch's middle name. But now I can't even look at the galaxy wallpaper on my MacBook without picturing Jessie J's labia lips trying to suck me in. That is some Lost in Space shit and Jessie J is not right for making me think that Will Robinson is going to pop out of there. Jessie J needs to take the emergency exit and fix herself.
Bitch just wore that so strangers can come up to her and say, "I can see your black hole." Guess what, Jessie? The doctor says the same thing to me during my annual health department-appointed ass exam and I don't even have to wear a MAC wallpaper catsuit to hear it.
As even the psychic cat with the dusty turban on the Santa Monica Promenade predicted, Brad Pitt's whole "I was a boring pile of stale weed shank during my marriage to Jennifer Aniston" shit scooted its ass along every damn tabloid cover this week and has once again pushed us down into the dark ages where we can't even buy Astroglide and some pork rinds without their faces staring at us in the checkout line at KMart. Every time one of those bitch's brings up each other's name, a black cat breaks a mirror under a ladder and it's another 30 years of bad luck for all of us! But let's get into this shit anyway.
UsWeekly is saying that Jennifer Aniston stopped knitting the words Mrs. Theroux on her favorite ice cream tub cozy (Note: I can't believe ice cream tub cozies exist) to briefly roll an eye at Brad and apparently her team of publicists demanded he fart out an "I'm Sowwy" about that shit he said. Their source says, "They got his team involved and Brad was read the riot act -- the only way you can read the riot act to Brad Pitt. No one believes his words were taken out of context -- he said what he said. I do hear that he's remorseful. We think he's jealous she's in love." Which leads me to OK! Magazine...
OK!'s sources say that Brad's jealousy chip is burning up over the fact that Jennifer Aniston is no longer a miserable lonely-ling who uses her dog's first name as the groom's name when she fills out online wedding registries for fun on a Sunday afternoon. The source said that Brad is trying to drag Jen down. The source said this mess: “Brad’s got a real competitive, vicious streak, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s jealous. Justin is everything Brad couldn’t be. He adores Jen; Jen is deeply in love with Justin. And she’d fallen in and out of love with Brad during their marriage." Which leads me to InTouch Weekly (via Hollywood Life)....
InTouch Weekly is saying that Brad isn't the one wants to turn Jen's smile face into a frown face. It's St. Angie! CRASH! BOOM! LIGHTING! ETC! They say that St. Angie promised Brad that if he threw shade at Jen in an interview, her hamster cooch would spit out his old nutsack and she'd let him spend some quality time with them. The source explained, “It’s as if Angelina specifically told Brad to say those things in the interview. It’s her exact opinion of Jen. She thinks she’s a boring person. Angelina has a knack for getting Brad to say unpleasant things about Jen.”
And FINALLY, during an interview with Matt Lauer on Today (via People) Brad said that he wants all the kids in the playground to stop poking at Aniston and to leave her alone:
"I don't want [people] to say anything bad like that about Jen. She's a dear friend of mine. I think it's a shame that I can't say something nice about Angie without Jen being drug in. She doesn't deserve it."
Brad, please take your own advice, sprinkle it on some papers, roll the biggest joint you've ever rolled and then smoke it up real slow. That will keep your mouth busy. Maddox will do the talking for you from on. Yes, Maddox will still say some real shit about Aniston, but at least he'll put some sparkly stank on it!
And all of us deserve a prize for going through that mess together, so here's a pussy fight with some real entertainment value:
See. Garden cats know how to end some bullshit. Just push that bitch off the ladder.
Floyd Mayweather's Kim K-looking piece needs to take off Gay Al Reynold's wedding outfit at once. Looking like a cocktail waitress at a wedding-themed basement casino on the outskirts of Laughlin is not the look - Crunk + Disorderly
ScarJo went from hand-holding with Bradley Cooper to peen-holding with Justin Timberlake. "I'll never wash your hand again." - B.Coop to ScarJo - Lainey Gossip
Please tell me Ryan Murphy is writing a movie musical called Canned Cheese: The Musical - The Superficial
Ted Haggard and Gary Busey should really star in an episode of Therapist Swap together - Towleroad
Hilary Duff fills her coin slot - Hollywood Tuna
Are we sure the crew member who slapped Minka Kelly in the nalgas and offered her a Benjamin wasn't Charlie Sheen? - Celebitchy
This bitch looks like if my first therapist's sofa swallowed a wart hog - (site NSFW) Drunken Stepfather
RiRi goes SANS FARDS in Brazil - Just Jared
Katy Perry is like a walking Todai buffet - The Berry
The Circle is Complete: Bradley Cooper was hand holding with ScarJo who was married to Ryan Reynolds who is now dating Olivia Wilde who once dated Bradley Cooper - Popsugar
Oh, let's just throw one of the Culkins at ScarJo's pussy too - I'm Not Obsessed
This picture is painted in every color of perfect - The Daily What
Charlize Theron almost makes an inflated green balloon look good - Popoholic
"How To Live With Huge Penis" sounds like a marriage counseling book Sandra Bullock would've written when she was married to Vanilla Gorilla - SOW
Taylor Lipstrong blah blah blah blah hand me a check my husband is dead blah blah blah - ICYDK
Michael Stipe released an art project video guest starring his shiny happy penis on the same day that R.E.M. announces that they are taking a nap for good. Haven't R.E.M. fans been through enough today?! (pause) But for real, I've had worse nekkid pictures cross my desk before. And yes, the "worse" I'm talking about are the ones I sent of myself to myself after accidentally answering my own Craigslist ad.
If you want to know what every gay's almost-headless naked picture would look like if Grindr existed in the early 80s, (NSFW) click here to see Frances Bean's godfather letting his all-natural nut bush and dick out in the wild. Si, I would, but why does this shit looks like it was taken on the set of Serpico?
Source: Michael Stipe's Tumblr
It seems like it was just yesterday that I was putting an Out of Time stamp on a Columbia House order form and now R.E.M has announced they are breaking up completely. The band blew out this statement together on their official site:
"To our Fans and Friends: As R.E.M., and as lifelong friends and co-conspirators, we have decided to call it a day as a band. We walk away with a great sense of gratitude, of finality, and of astonishment at all we have accomplished. To anyone who ever felt touched by our music, our deepest thanks for listening." R.E.M.
They went on to write: "We have no plans to get back together unless somebody waves a suitcase full of millions of dollars at us for a reunion tour, a Greatest Hits CD, a mentor spot on American Idol and a Pepsi commercial. In other words, see you in 5 years!"
I'm okay with the fact that every damn news station will play "Everybody Hurts" when covering this shit, because it could've been worse. It could've been The B-52s!
And in the end, DAN RATHER ALWAYS WINS!
There was this seasoned chola who worked in my mom's office and she once took me aside during her lunch break to show me Polaroids she kept in her glove compartment of her cruisin' days before her tattoos looked like pieces from a wrinkled coloring book and before she dyed her hair a lovely shade of Montebello blond (as she puts it). What she looked like in those pictures looks almost exactly like 14-year-old Lourdes at a Material Girl event with Kelly Osbourne in NYC yesterday. The teenage spawn of Madge looks like the spitting image of the seasoned chola office assistant in her glory days!
Well, Lourdes would completely look like the spitting image of a 70s chola if you traded her plain hair for feathered hair wings and traded her yellow dress for a baggy plaid shirt and high-waisted polyester pants. But other than that, it's uncanny!
What I'm trying to say is that if Roberto Benigni (whatever happened to Roberto Benigni anyway) was telling the truth when he said that life is beautiful, then Lourdes will grow up to be a gorgeous Radiology office assistant who smells like a mixture of L.A. Looks gel and Avon perfume, and drives a brown Lincoln with a warped TimeLife oldies cassette stuck in its tape deck. If only!
Toddlers & Tiaras is about to be replaced as the #1 TV show in the pedophile ward of state prisons, because everybody's favorite creepy gay husband made of discarded plugs and his air quotes teenage bride have made everybody at The Soup squee themselves inside/out by signing a deal for their own reality. Radar reports that Courtney Stodden stuck out her lizard tongue, dipped it in an ink jar and slithered out her signature on a contract with Merv Griffin Entertainment. Wait. I should rewrite that last sentence in the kind of Twitter whore baby talk that speaks to Courtney:
Radar seductively reports that the sensuous creature Courtney Stodden provocatively grabbed her sexy husband's long hard pen and deliciously dipped it into her wet ink jar and salaciously saturated the voluptuous contract with her pleasurable signature of lustful desire. I LOVE JESUS!
Courtney's pimp of a mother Krista Stodden says that they went with Merv Griffin Entertainment, because they believe that is the company who will put them in front of all of the best networks even though we know the only network that is going to buy this skankified creep show is PBS (PedoBear Broadcasting Service) or.....TLC (same thing basically).
Doug and the garden gecko who had a lobotomy with a Real Doll also said that nothing is off limits and they will show every uncomfortable part of their lives like this:
Shouldn't they be washing her instead of the car. You know, a video that can double as soft-core pedo porn and soft-core gerontophile porn should not exist.
I just watched some crazy bitch pour bleach into another crazy bitch's contact lens case on The Bad Girls Club, and now I wish she would come to my apartment and do the same thing to me. Because Courtney and Doug's reality show is going to make all of us long for wholesome entertainment like 2 Girls, 1 Cup.
Either Courtney and Doug's show is what you see when you stare into the eyes of a locust in the Apocalypse swarm, or this is just an elaborate marketing campaign for clear bra straps.
If you ever get a promotional e-mail from a site called Netdix, you can send your complaints to Maggie Gyllenhaal for putting ideas into people's heads and other places. Maggie is out promoting Hysteria, that movie she did about the world's first vibrator, and says that while filming it several London sex toy stores sent her enough electro pussy ticklers to fill an episode of Whoarders (and a Scientology men's sauna). It was like Clitmas for her cooze!
Maggie tells The Cut (via Gothamist) that she has a selfless vagina and wants to gift all of her friends with nut busting goodness so she lends her vibrators out and they use them for months at a time. YES. Maggie shares her vibrators. Do they even make vibrator sanitizer? What about vibrator condoms? This pussy dust sharing nasty bitch!
"By the time I finished the movie I'd been sent maybe 15 vibrators by different people in London with vibrator stores. It was a pleasant surprise. So I have this incredible collection, and I actually use like one or two of them. I lend them to my friends, and they’ll take them for six months at a time. [While shooting Hysteria] I was sent a lot of vibrators from different sex stores in England while we were shooting the movie. I shared them around."
This mess of words did make me ewwwwwww from every body hole (Hazmat is on their way), but then I thought about it. I mean, I became blood brothers with my best friend when I was a kid. Isn't this sort of the same thing? If you're both surfing the red tide at the same time you had dirty silicone sex with the same vibrator, isn't that like a blood sisters ceremony? Or let me put it this way. Let's say you and your friend were both new kinds of drunk and a peen landed in front of you, would you lick it at the same time? You're a shameless whore slut so just say YES. Sharing vibrators is practically the same thing! It's like prolonged group sex for the lonely.
P.S. - If you ever get that e-mail from Netdix, forward it my way.
Now that Blake Lively's publicist landed her a full-time temp-to-perm gig as Leonardo DiCatchaHo's piece, they are sitting back, marveling at the bland fruits of their labor and passing their tricks of the STUNT QUEEN romance trade to Bradley Cooper's publicist. I say that because that fiction fan-writing bitch is going at it hard. Case in point: B. Coop pursed and winked at JLo during a romantic date over a week ago and the details magically landed in TMZ's inbox from the e-mail address "firstname.lastname@example.org." Contract negotiations must've broken down like Skeletor's metabolism when he eats something other than virgin plasma, because B. Coop has wiggled away from JLo and is off doing the heterosexual mating dance with other pieces.
An "eyewitness" tells Life & Style (via NYDN) that B. Coop threw flirty eyes at ScarJo and held her hand while partying with friends at some club in NYC the other night. This mess reads like something out of Choose Your Own Beardventures.
"Scarlett and Bradley arrived with a small group of friends, including model Cheyenne Tozzi, around 2am. While Bradley was flirty with Cheyenne initially, after some drinks he turned his attention to Scarlett. The duo were hand in hand and more than flirty by the end of the night!
They were here with a group of friends and ordered champagne. The group was having a good time together."
ScarJo's rep says that they have been good friends ever since doing that shit show He's Just Not That Into You together and if they held hands they did it as friends only. Okay?
But you know, I, for one, love it whenever "Bradley Cooper is a pussy wrassling man whore who licks the ladies" is shoved down our throat holes, because it tastes like nothing but strawberry-flavored Booty Eaze gel and Victor Garber's taint sweat.