What popular “American Idol” finalist has a major complex over his acne-scarred complexion? The flamboyant singer, who regularly undergoes hour-long makeup overhauls, is currently consulting with plastic surgeons to cover up his facial flaws. (Blind Gossip)
Glamberace? I was just researching this very thing FOR A FRIEND and read somewhere that the Equus facial works miracles. Yup, a face full of horse jizz keeps the acne away. Don't believe me? Just look at Brenda Song's perfect and luminous skin.
Last Friday, this tool of a father who happens to have some celebrity offspring and I use the term celebrity very lightly. I mean, if you don't act for a few years then you lose the right to call yourself an actor/actress? Drop down to a celebrity? Anyway, the dad, supposedly sober to the world was sucking down booze poolside at a hotel. Oh, and what was his offspring hoovering up at Chateau Marmont one night earlier? (CDAN)
Rhymes with Dykel Bloman.
This A list movie actress who got her start way back in the day on television and then did some more along the way, let it slip the other day that she and her always a B list (for one role in particular) movie actor husband have not had sex in almost five years. It is kind of ironic if you think about it. (CDAN)
Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick? Maybe we should hook SJP up with Glamberace. They might be able to help each other out.
Here's Benjamin Géza Affleck-Boldt in wig to ankle polyester with Alan Arkin on the Hollywood set of the movie he's directing and starring in called Argo. That skull bra of synthetic follicles on his head looks like it's slightly better quality than the wig that comes in the Pimp Mama Kris costume pack at the Whoretown Halloween store.
As for my very important headline question, I'm sure most of you sluts would check the box marked "NOT WHILE SOBER" since this is a forest backdrop and a hand-to-face-pose away from looking like your daddy in an Olan Mills portrait session circa 1977 . In the 70s, my dad looked like if Judge Ito played the title role in Welcome Back, Kotter, so it's safe for me to say that I'D HIT IT!
I truly believe that you haven't begun to scoop up all of life's beautiful moments until you've heard the line "Watch the wig!" from a piece while sitting on their face.
Just one word for this: YES!
Okay, just TWO words for this: YES, girl!
via WOW Report
This picture is for those of you who miss the days when Nicole Richie was skanky fat and when Jessica Simpson wore three different kinds of species on top of her head (bangs by alpaca, top weave by afghan hound and bottom weave by human).
Nicole Richie and Jessica Simpson are both mentors/judges on a new Project Runaway wannabe reality show called Fashion Star and apparently they LOATHE (copyright: Our Lady of Perpetual Hydrangea Hate) each other. A source tells UsWeekly that as soon as the red light on the cameras go off, so does their knowledge that each other exists. There's more friction on the set than there is in Jessica Simpson's thigh zone.
The source said this is what Nicole thinks of Jessica:
"[Nicole] thinks Jessica doesn't have much of a high-fashion eye and makes snarky comments about Jessica's outfits."
This is what Jessica thinks of Nicole:
"[Jessica] really doesn't care what Nicole thinks. Nicole may know trends, but Jessica believes she know how to make clothes for all kinds of women."
This is what most of us think of the both of them: BOOOOOOOOOO!
I didn't like Nicole when she was in cahoots with the enemy (wonk up your eye and pick a crustacean out of your crotch if you need a clue as to who I'm talking about), but I don't mind her now. Nicole makes funny jokes and she doesn't seem to take herself too seriously. But during that mess Access Hollywood the other day, Billy Bush referred to her as a fashion icon. I know that Billy Bush's brains are powered by the same shit that powered Jill the Talking Doll, but FASHION ICON?! Copying everything in Mrs. Roper's wardrobe closet does not a fashion icon make. As for Jessica Simpson's ass....
Jessica is lucky that Papa Joe set her up with the right people who transformed the KFC chicken crumbs called her career into a $1 billion fashion empire.
Chris Martin and GOOP are rarely ever photographed together and I get it. They're both saggy cunt balloons full of cold farts of self-importance, but at least they know that most cameras can only handle one of their egos in the same frame. If the shells holding their egos touched as a camera's flash went off, a black hole vortex would open up, sucking all of our souls into it and she wouldn't have anybody on earth to terrorize with the piss streams of pretentiousness that shoot out of her mouth hole on a weekly basis. So we should be thankful to GOOP, blah blah blah... But sometimes they go so out of their way to not be photographed together that it makes them look even more ridiculous than usual. Yes, that's possible.
When Coach threw Fishsticks Paltrow a party in London last night, Chris Martin showed up a little while after her dressed like a metrosexual unabomber and told all the photographers to keep their cameras away from him. Fine. The feeling is mutual, I'm sure. Show me a camera that wants to willingly wink at Chris Martin's queef spout of a face and I'll show you labia lips on a dick hole.
But then when the party was over, Fishsticks walked down the street to her car and Chris waited inside. When Chris was given the signal, he ran his stupid ass down the street and hopped into the backseat where Fishy was hiding with a blanket over her gills (ho has never looked better).
Any normal celebrity couple who doesn't want to make a big deal out of their relationship would've just: a) casually walked to their car together while keeping their hands to themselves or b) taken separate cars. But these two twat sticks just have to create a DRAMATICOMGGELLINI scene. I swear, these two don't even have to try to act like assholes, it just comes naturally.
The cartoon villain who basically tied his job at Dior to the train tracks when he launched verbal swastika after verbal swastika from his tongue on two occasions at a bar in Paris was stamped with the word GUILTY by le court this morning. John Galliano was facing 6 months of trimming his precious stache with his own fingernails and his cell mate's teeth in prison, but the court spared him of jail time. They threw a suspended $8,500 fine at him and are also making him pay one euro to his victims as a symbolic act. THEATER QUEENS. Galliano won't have to pull out $8,500 from his coin purse if he keeps his "You dirty Jew with ugly shoes!!!" comments to himself for the next five years.
Back in February, Galliano was secretly recorded telling two people that he loves Hitler and all their forefathers would've been gassed. In France, that anti-Semitic stuff isn't a joke and so they charged Galliano with a hate crime. Galliano blamed it on stress from work, the death of his father, his strained relationship with Natasha Fatale and his addiction to the sweet nectar and pills. After he was fired from Dior, Galliano checked into a rehab clinic in Arizona and hasn't really been heard from since. Galliano wasn't in court today, but his lawyer said that he's "relieved" this is all over and called the court's decision "wise."
After all this, Galliano is out a job, an invitation to Natalie Portman's baby's bris, two Euros and other 90 Euros for court fees. The French court basically just slapped that dandy on the wrist and told him to never do it again. But they really should've punished his ass by ordering him to stay away from pin curl clips and Nazi-approved eyebrow stencils. Nope, I don't appreciate that his brows are Heiling Hitler in opposite directions.
The day is young, I know. First, there were the non-shirtless picture of Mah Boo with a bellybutton-less Kathy Griffin that made my nipple holes frown, and now here's Leighton Meester on the set of Chismoso Girl with her cankles deep in studded shit. Thursday is more like Hurlsday.
Aren't they supposed to be like fancy ~fashionista~ types on Gossip Girl who won't even shove a tampon up their twat unless it's made by Hermes? But yet shit like this flies? You would think that a trick who made a foot fetish tape would be more respectful of her feet and what goes on them. How can Leighton stare into the foot mirror in her solid gold trailer and think that wearing a pair of UGGs that look like they were made by minions during Hell's craft hour using the hallowed legs of a minotaur and the shit berries of a hell hound is okay. It's not okay. Leaving a mound of pooch poo on the sidewalk is illegal in Manhattan, but wearing those things out in public is not? Way to give a bitch mixed messages.
I watched an episode of Animal Hoarders last night where the chick kept her dead kittens frozen in the freezer right next to her ice cream. The thought of eating Blue Bunny ice cream infused with freezer burned kitten air doesn't gross me out as much as that shit on Leighton's feet does.
It's like somebody thought those UGGs were thirsty creatures from Dante's Inferno and tried to murder them dead with round bullets. Well...since I put it that way....
Since I've been on PST I've been rising from my dead coma a little after 5 every morning and I really don't know how some of you opposite vampires do it. You must have an alarm clock that sprays out meth mist and if you do, please give me the SkyMall catalog number for it. 5am was invented so that sluts could do the walk of shame from their one night trick's apartment to their apartment while it's still sort of dark outside. It was not invented as a waking up hour. It's just hurtful. But I'm going to stop about that before one of you e-mails me with: "Michael, suck on your mouse, because the children in Ethiopia get up at 4am!" Yes, I know! I also know that Ethiopian children have to make their morning coffee by banging coffee beans on a rock down by the river instead of pressing Mr. Coffee's G-spot like I do. I know! Anyway....
So my brain is on 5am and I'm going through e-mails and there I see it.... A subject line that reads: NEW PICTURES ANDERSON COOPER SUNBATHING SHIRTLESS!!!!! The sleep crust melted from my eyeballs, the fapping nodule in my brain stood up and my finger pores started pre-cumming as I clicked the link. A lukewarm second after I did that, my eyeballs turned blue and my fapping nodule went back to bed. In what world is this considered shirtless?! Unless, Mah Boo's torso is nipple deficient and naturally made from a cotton blend only found in a Calvin Klein store (very possible), this is not shirtless! This is SHIRTMORE not shirtless.
Curse the bitch who screwed with my emotions at a time when I'm most sensitive (aka the pre-caffeine hour). That is a low blow and not the kind I pulled down my chonies for.
FURTHERMORE, Mah Boo posted these pictures on his site to promote his talk show. Mah Boo is obviously new to the talk show promo game, because you do not promote a talk show with pictures of some shit we've seen a million times. I mean, Kathy Griffin in a bikini? Ever since she sold her belly button to Satan for her new body, bitch hasn't been out of a bikini. I've already etched the image of Kathy Griffin in a bikini into the metal memory file cabinet in my brain with an old key. We've all seen it! But you know what we haven't seen? Kathy Griffin in a grey t-shirt and Mah Boo in a black 'kini. There's still time for them to do this promo picture thing right! Do it for my 5am brain, Mah Boo!
Simple, I told Lindsay it was vodka. - jazzfish_77
Joseph and Mary's other kid known as the hotmessiah. - maejones
Well, it's hard to swim when your IUD isn't water-proof. - TexnDoc
Jesus! Theres a sextape of Spongebob getting a bj? Will it ever end? - El Bastardo
The Drunk Moose of Sweden!
That glazed look in the eye like all she wants it to watch a Golden Girls re-run on her couch and those lips that look like they're craving that crack salt McDonald's puts on their fries could only mean only thing: ho is tanked. And that she is. A man in Sweden was sitting in his house on Tuesday when his ears heard the sound of some beast grunting and hooves sweeping the grass in his neighbor's garden. At first he figured it was just Trace Cyrus trying to escape fatherhood, because when the noises continued he went outside and found a sight Matthew Broderick usually sees in his backyard whenever he fills the liquor cabinet with Absolut Carrot. The man found a drunk ass moose kicking her legs around while stuck in a tree.
It's a bitch when all you want to do is have some boozed up fun and a stupid tree won't let you do that. It's also a bitch when the paps get a pantyless ass shot of you when you're all vulnerable and shit.
Just like my party friend Fat Boy before her, the moose ate too many fermented apples, got Mel Gibson drunk and somehow ended up between a tree and a hard place. The police had to saw off tree branches to free Paz de la Moosa. Once they got her free, she fell to the ground and thought about her life choices and how it's a damn shame she can't hold her fermented apples. The man says that Moosey is now eating disco fries in the garden, waaah-ing about how the light is too bright and has already turned down an offer to appear on Dr. Drew's Celebrity Animal Rehab on Animal Planet.
You know, I guess getting stuck in a tree is the drunk moose version of passing out in a front yard bush. And I guess getting sawed out of a tree by the police is the drunk moose version of getting woken up by sprinklers or the sounds of brat children going to school. It happens to the best of us. Also, my ass has been partying at the wrong places. Fuck my own living room and HoJo's, it's all about getting boozed up in the fermented apple orchard.
via The Guardian