You might have had this rumor whispered into your eyes before since it's older than Jada Pinkett-Smith's favorite strap-on in her box of toys, but it made its way onto the cover of Star Magazine this week. Duane Martin, Tisha Campbell-Martin's husband, and Will Smith have been best bro friends for a million years and some say that they're so close that Duane's thighs have brushed up against Will's ears more than once. Star's source says that Will is spending so much time with Duane that it's making Jada lift her head up off of her side piece's crotch to reach for the divorce papers. Uh huh.
Duane and Will have gone on vacations to Miami, Trinidad and Las Vegas together, and another source basically said that if you want to know what Duane's ass smells like, just ask Will to breathe in your face. The source put it like this (via HSK):
"Jada can’t stand Will’s relationship with Duane. She feels like Will flaunts it in her face, hanging out with him every day and taking him on exotic vacations while she’s sitting home alone.
Will and Jada’s marriage is completely fractured, and it’s only getting worse as Will spends more time away with Duane. I don’t know how much longer they can live this way. It’s only a matter of time until one of them makes the split official and files for divorce.”
HO, PLEASE. Any Scientology minister will tell you that the secret to a long-lasting marriage is to close your nostrils to the scent of wet butt sex coming from your husband's bedroom and vice versa. That is why I think the world will get a sequel to Woo (please let there be a sequel to Woo) before these two bitches get divorced. Will can frolic over yonder with Duane, Jada can frolic over yonder with her piece and when they need the publicity they'll frolic in front of the cameras together like one big happy married heterosexual couple. It's the perfect marriage. If the beard doesn't itch, why shave it off?
Katie Price launches her new line of swimwear for delicate flowers like herself who are looking for the perfect bathing suit to really bring out their skankiness. And I'm looking for a bottle of ketchup, because I'd really like to squirt some on Katie Price's curly fries weave before I nibble on it. - Hollywood Rag
My ass skipped a fart for a second thinking Carol O'Neal was wearing scrunch bottom jeans - Lainey Gossip
Watch yourself, Jennifer Love Hewitt, because RPattz has the phrase "sparkly secret in my pants" trademarked - The Superficial
Fantasia's relationship is about as messy as what's going on in her crotch area - Celebitchy
Since Demi Moore is unavailable at the moment, somebody has to feed their ego by posting bikini pictures of themselves to get their Twitter followers to tell them how hot they are, and that somebody is Jaime Pressly - (site NSFW) Drunken Stepfather
Ewan McGregor likes it when you think about doing gay things to him - Towleroad
"Oh hi, Memaw White! It's Michael K, your daughter's child's child's child or something. Have you been getting all the cards I send you every holiday? Oh you haven't? That's too bad. Can I have some money?" - Jezebel
Even in gold satin, Whitney Port is still as boring as old baking soda - Hollywood Tuna
Work that mane, SJP - ICYDK
I see you, dude motorboating Katy Perry's chichis with your eyes - Popoholic
Needs way more afghan hound nipples - The Berry
Katy Perry really wants you to call her a fire crotch - Moe Jackson
Pitt on a hog - Popsugar
Both of these stupid bitches need to have a seat in a therapist's waiting room - Crunk + Disorderly
Even Kim Kardashian's hair is trying to get away from her ass - Celebslam
About that KONY 2012 video making the rounds... - The Daily What
I have always thought of my butt as a blank canvas - Videogum
I'd rather talk to you about how taking a lot of Vitamin C has made my piss smell like rusty metal, but you're here for the celeb shit, so here's a story about Uma Thurman's baby. - I'm Not Obsessed
David Blaine can retire now - Cityrag
The executives at Lifetime must be patting themselves on the horns this morning, because last night's episode of Dance Moms won the not-so-coveted pedophile demographic and made Toddlers & Tiaras look like a video tutorial on how to be a good parent. Head monster in charge, Abby Lee Miller, continued to live vicariously through her skinny dance students by putting them in as little clothes as possible to give the illusion that they were naked showgirls. The moms were appalled, but not one of them busted a citizen's arrest on their own asses for letting this happen. The judges nearly ran to Claire's to buy pearls for them to clutch, but not one of them cried for Chris Hansen to deliver them from this evil. And Abby Lee Miller sat there, eating while bahahahahaha-ing on the inside at how she's corrupted another young soul.
Who in the Jon Benet Dance Troupe Hell thinks it's okay to put "naked," "on stage" and "10-year-old" together in the same equation. Somebody needs to turn Abby Evil Miller around to look for a zipper on her back, because I'm pretty sure she's PedoBear wearing a reworked Ursula costume.
It's not fashion week until you've seen a model do the newborn giraffe wobble while walking down the runway. If you're that driver on the highway who passes a car-in-trauma with its hazard lights on, then you're totally that model in the jumpsuit who's like, "Beep beep, bye bitch."
Since Kanye West is an honorary Kardashian and regularly gets the Louis Vuitton logo henna tattooed on his ass lips next to the other K girls, his sister Kim Kardashian wore his $6,000 beaded shit shoes to his fashion show in Paree last night. I didn't think it was possible for those shoes to reach a new level of disgusting, but I stand corrected. The only way to make those Kanye shoes more fugilicious is to put a soulless, dead wild animal in them. I'm talking about Kim, not the poor piece of roadkill she's wearing.
Lindsay Lohan would fellate a frog for a dime bag (Who wouldn't, though?) and give Hugh Hefner's colostomy hole a wet willy for a spread in Playboy, but now she's really hit the "ground zero desperation" button on life's elevator by begging perv du jour Terry Richardson to love her. LiLo took her crack poon for a ride on Terry's pedo stache a few times, but she wants more from him. If you have a carbon monoxide detector near you, it's probably screeching from thinking about the toxic fumes these two created when they side fucked on Terry's floor. It's stories like this that make me wish the image creator in my brain had an off switch.
A source tells Radar that LiLo is burning up Terry's phone, but even if she was a barely legal American Apparel model, he still wouldn't want her:
"Lindsay and Terry have been friends for years and she's always had a thing for him. Lindsay thinks he's really cool and hip and could be great for her career. They had a major night of passion after they worked on this photo shoot together and now she's going all out to get her claws into him. But Terry is just not interested in pursuing a relationship with Lindsay and totally regrets hooking up with her.
Lindsay has been texting and phoning him nonstop and he's actually kind of freaked out by how strong she's been coming on to him; it's all pretty unseemly. As Terry said, there's nothing more unattractive than a desperate woman. It's a difficult situation though as they move in the same circles and have a lot of mutual friends. He's trying to work out a way to let her down gently without blowing their friendship."
Terry is the kind of perv school officials warned you about during assemblies. Dude is like a human version of a white, windowless van. Terry always has a creepy smile plastered over his face that tells you not to look below his flannel shirt or you will see his dick hanging out of his Dickies. Dude has permanent flasher face. A face that makes you scream for an adult. So it take a serious fucked up bitch to freak out that freak. Congratulations, LiLo! You managed to do it. I swear, daddy issues are a helluva drug.
You know you have a serious problem when the last thing you see before you shut the skin shutters over your eyeballs is this email:
prince harry showing off his rasta moves in jamaica. stock up on the lube
And you really know you have a serious SERIOUS problem when the first email you see in the morning has a link to the video of PHG riding the invisible pony and this note with it:
Your no-no can thank me later.
The most disturbing part is that one of those emails was from someone who has the name first government name as my mom. WHY?!!!! Rock bottom: That was it. Ayúdame, Candy Finnigan! I need a gingervention.
Since today's theme is hos talking BABIES!!!, here's home wrecking vanguard Sienna Miller posing with her barely there bump out in British Vogue. Sienna Miller opened up to Vogue to say that she's closing up about all the details of her pregnancy. Unlike Snooki and Jessica Simpson, Sienna isn't going to tell you what her pregnancy farts smell like or if she's having bizarre cravings for strange things like unmarried peen. Sienna ain't saying shit. Sienna has even vagina swallowed a firewall so that The Sun can't hack into her uterus (I'm sure they've tried). 30-year-old Sienna tells Vogue (via DM):
"I'm feeling fine. It's all progressing nicely and it's very exciting. It's nice to start a new decade.
I'm in my second trimester, so I'm I-can-talk-about-it pregnant, even though I'm under strict instructions not to say anything as it would completely defeat the point of everything I've tried to achieve in the last eight years."
It seems like it wasn't that long ago when the only thing that could make Sienna Miller shut her mouth was peen attached to a man not wearing a wedding band, and now she's shutting her lips in the name of privacy. How my favorite man snatcher has grown. It truly is the end of a beautiful home wrecking era. Seeing Sienna hold that memorial wreath over her retired bull dozer vagina has given me the closure I need. Thank you, Sienna.
Thanks to Demi Moore showing off her naked pregnant ass on Vanity Fair in 1991 and the technological advances of Photoshop, any knocked up celebrity trick thinks she can flash all her nooks and crannies on the cover of a magazine. Case in point: here's Jessica Simpson recreating "the Demi" for Elle's April issue. Elle must have dulled all their Photoshop tools while touching this up, because Jessica's baby balloon in its current state would need 2 pages to show it in its complete glory. That's some "after the fold" shit. Either that, or this picture was taken at week 6 before a steady pregnancy diet of blended funnel cakes and Pop Tart burgers caused her ass to grow to the size of a whale's fart bubble.
Jessica tells Elle that she knew something in the womb was a baby when she suddenly didn't feel like boozing and biking:
“We were goin’ to have an all-day drinking binge. Gonna ride our bikes, hang out…do naughty things. But I started feeling this overwhelming guilt. Why would I feel guilt at the idea of going out and having cocktails with my friends?”
Speaking of booze, not guzzling down any has been the hardest part of her pregnancy:
“Givin’ up my Scotch? My Macallan 18? That was hard for me! … Though now, being pregnant, you crave other things. A big thing of water sounds great!”
That last part really made me queef out a happy queef on the inside, because now I know that there will be another human on this planet who says "A BIG THING OF WATER."
Jessica also said that she's having a girl and she will eat a bowl of raw vegetables to her death if her daughter turns out to be a butch bitch:
“Ah swear, ah will croak if she asks me for a pair of Nikes instead of Christian Louboutins! Eric is so athletic. We’re gonna have this ath-a-letic girl and I won’t even be able to take her shopping.”
Jessica has already come up with a name, and she says it's not a Pilot Inspektor kind of weird and it will make sense to people. With those clues, I'm thinking Jessica will go with: Dayzee Macallana Simpson or A BIG THING OF BABY Simpson.
And I've never noticed Jessica's innie belly button before. Or maybe she's really an outie and it ran up into her belly after watching Papa Joe slobber on set.
As expected, the mutant Chilean pork rind Snooki began her journey to the title of Mother of 2012 by doing what every new mother does: announce her pregnancy on the cover of a tabloid for a cashiers check and a 9-month supply of prenatal ecstasy pills.
Looking like an over baked Jay Leno as a Disney cartoon princess, Snooki tells UsWeekly that the hairless Ewok fetus in her vodka-soaked womb is 15 weeks old and she found out she was fist pumping for two a few days after New Year's Eve in Las Vegas. I'd be more disturbed if Snooki didn't get her fetus drunk, because if I was that fetus, I'd be sucking every last drop of booze from the umbilical cord to escape the pain of knowing who my parents are. Turn that umbilical cord into a beer bong (umbilical bong?), Baby Oompa Loompa!
The once pouf-haired star and LaValle discovered the news "right after New Year's," she said. Snooki's first thought? "'Shit, I've been drinking!' I was worried. It was New Year's Eve and we were in Vegas, so I did go crazy." she admits.
"I have different priorities now," reformed party girl Snooki says. "I don't care what anybody else thinks. As long as I know I'm ready and he's ready."
Adds Jionni LaValle: "We are not going to screw this up."
I'm trying to see this apocalypse-summoning news like this: Snooki and Jionni's idea of not screwing up would be if their little Pickleina Karma LaValle didn't grow up to be a fame whoring, pickle juice-brained reality star. And the future shit talking blogger cunts of the world need somebody to make fun of, so I just see this as the circle of snark. That's if humanity doesn't drown in a tidal wave of pickle juice, jacuzzi water and kamikaze shots when Snooki's water breaks on December 21, 2012 (the gestation period of an Ewok is 12 months).
And I HATE Snooki for wearing a necklace that looks like Pocky Sticks. Must this bitch ruin everything?