Happy Hallo-what-in-the-fuck did I just watch??? To promote her upcoming “One Christmas Tour” (looks like I know what we’re doing for the Dlisted Christmas party this year), LeAnn Rimes released a 3-minute long Halloween-themed video, and it’s truly a nightmare-inducing NeverEnding American Horror Story MESS! I guess it’s called the “One Christmas” tour because after watching this video, you’ll celebrate one last Christmas with your family before they commit you to a mental hospital after you slowly go insane from the recurring nightmares of LeAnn’s terrifying evil clown smile from the 1:47 mark.
Normally I’d advise anyone to watch almost anything stoned out of their mind, but NOT THIS! It’s too fucking weird. It begins with LeAnn greeting trick-or-treaters dressed like a crazy-in-the-face slutty Aerobicicse unicorn. Then three elves (who I assume were hired by Brandi Glanville) home invade LeAnn’s ass and chase her around the house while the possessed demon squirrel cousins of Alvin and the Chipmunks sing out the names of the locations where LeAnn’s tour will be stopping.
Then shit turns into The Ring meets Law & Order: SVU meets HOLD ME CLOSE, JESUS when a bunch of creepy images start flashing while LeAnn tries to fight off her toy-making attackers. Oh, but it was all a dream! Or was it?? Either way, I need to see my therapist.
Tracy Anderson, the little hard-bodied come-to-life Crank Yankers puppet that could, continued to be either the worst friend ever or the best internet troll alive when she posted an Instagram video of Gwyneth Paltrow doing the Sassy Corn Broom Shuffle in one of her rich lady jazzercise classes yesterday. This isn’t the first time we’ve seen Gwyneth awkwardly busting a goopy move with Tracy Anderson, but it’s definitely my favorite, because she sort of looks like the drunk chick at Dave & Buster’s who won’t get off the Dance Dance Revolution machine (there’s always a drunk mess hogging the DDR machine). She’s kick-ball-changing like the rent on her self-knitting organic backyard cashmere goat herd is due!
And it goes without saying, but if Gwyneth wants to learn how to really drop it like it’s hot, she should swap out Tracy Anderson for the Drunk Lord of the Dance herself, Laura Jeanne Poon.
I really love how Gwyneth puts her acting skills to good use by pretending to be surprised that someone was filming her dancing. Oh Gwyneth, you transparent trick! You’re dancing in your bra with your 6-pack coconut water abs out. The only thing more obvious would be if she were dancing to “Don’t Cha” by The Pussycat Dolls while Tracy held up a cardboard cut-out of Chris Martin for her to grind her bony butt against. “I’m still the hottest, right? RIGHT?!?”
Speaking of Goop and The Human Scarf, The Daily Mail seems to think there’s still some organic triple-filtered alkalinized romance water still flowing between them (ew). On Wednesday night, Goop and Coop took the Gooplets out for dinner, and Gwyneth was spotted touching Chris’s face before she headed back to Castle Goopskull in her car. TOUCHING??? FACE??? Sluuuuts. Come on Daily Mail, you should know better. Face touching isn’t love; that’s just some casual hit-it-and-quit-it action. Get it goopy! Touch that gentle face!
Brad Pitt, a man that with every passing year starts to look more and more like the long-lost illegitimate son of the Zig-Zag man (Maury, get on that), made an appearance on Zach Galifianakis’ “Between Two Ferns” to promote that WW2 movie where he plays a dude with the same haircut as every hipster who owns a coffee shop in Silver Lake (aka Fury). Poor Brapi; I can only imagine how disappointed he was when he walked on set and realized the two ferns he’d be in between weren’t weed plants. And yet, why do I get the feeling he probably tried to smoke them anyway?
My favorite episodes of “Between Two Ferns” are the ones where Zach Galapagos Islands and his guest throw subtle shade before reading each other to FILTH (see: Zach vs. President Barack Obama). But that never really happens here, because Brapi appears to have just woken up from his 2pm stoner nap and is too tie-tie to make with the funny. Case in point:
This is the face Brad made right after Zach brought out Louis CK. And now we know what St. Angie sees whenever she follows the trail of Funyun crumbs from the kitchen into the den and finds Brad staring at the light switch. “But where does the light go when I turn it off? It’s a mystery, man.”
And while it was nice of Zach to gift Brad with a “bassoon”, he doesn’t actually have any use for it. Hanging around St. Angie and the chosen ones all day is enough to make anyone feel higher than an LSD-dipped ‘shroom sandwich. It’s true! I’ve actually heard that smelling St. Angie’s hair is a big problem for teenage angels at Heaven High.
Don’t you have to actually do something to take a break from it? NO! That’s mean! Kristen Stewart is an excellent actress. I’ve never seen a performer with such a broad emotional range: bored, sullen, mopey, melancholy, bored, tired. Sometimes The Perpetual Apathetic Shrug Machine looks like she’s not acting by showing no emotion at all! She’s THAT good. She’s so good, she’s told USA Today (via Us Weekly) that she’s decided to take a break and let other actors have a chance at all the sullen teenager parts in Hollywood so she can focus on her true calling: ART!
“I’m taking some time off because I’ve been working for two years. I’m an actor and that’s my art form, and because I started that so young, I’ve always felt intimidated and insufficient when I think about other forms of art I want to create.”
“I’m going to take so much time off. I’m going to buy a live-work space in downtown L.A. and I’m going to make some [stuff] with my hands. Literally, I made that decision a few weeks ago. I’m making a short film. I’m making a bunch of stuff. I don’t know how I’ll put it out. But I’m not going to hold it so preciously close to me. I write all the time.”
Oh, we’ve read the kind of poetry you’ve been writing, KStew, and it’s a goddamn REVELATION. I sincerely hope she finds a way to merge some spoken word into her art, because the art world truly needs more eloquent emo teen WTF-ery like “One honest day up on this freedom pole“. Ooh, maybe she’ll sculpt an actual freedom pole? And if I know anything about art (and I do, since I spent 4 years of my life in art school), then that pole will be a giant dick. When in doubt, make it a dick! Dicks are ~deep~.
But I’m a little concerned for Hollywood. What will they do now that the human grimace is temporarily retired? I don’t think there’s anyone grumpy enough to fill in for KStew, besides Grumpy Cat (and that pussy is already being worked harder than a Kardashian at an NBA event). Kristen’s first art piece should be a mopey-looking wooden sculpture of herself that she can rent out to studios to fill in for her. It will be like she never left!
As Always, Matthew McConaughey Brought Stoned Armadillo Realness To The American Cinematheque Awards
Last night, His Royal Hiiiighness The Sun-Baked Bongo King Matthew McConaughey was honored with an American Cinematheque Award for his tireless efforts to just keep livin’ and awright awright awright-ing (and also maybe for acting). But I guess he figured it wasn’t that much of an honor, since he’s already won the only acting award that counts – AN OSCAH!!! – so he said fuck it and decided to collect his award looking like a high-ass reptile who spent the afternoon passed out on the beach in a sandy pile of Doritos and empty Bud Light Lime-A-Rita cans. “Who says I didn’t? Awright awright awright.”
I’m not sure what an American Cinematheque Award is, but it sounds French, so bravo Le T-Rex du Texas! I mean, it had to be at least a little bit of a big deal to win, since he brought the most glamorous woman in his life to help him collect his award. No, I’m not talking about his wife Camila Alves. I’m talking about the stunning sunset-colored Texas Topaz who birthed him, Mary Kay McConaughey! Momma Kay became my favorite of the Hollywood Moms the time she flashed her Spanx-covered buttermilk biscuit on the red carpet. She’s the true star of the McConaughey family! Give her the award! At least you know she won’t show up looking like a dude named Lyzard who keeps getting busted for trying to sell stale weed from the cereal aisle at Walmart.
Here’s more of The Sun-Baked Bongo King picking up his ACA with his wife Camilla (who looks kind of like what you’d get if you used the ‘Make Look Human’ tool in Photoshop on a picture of Kim Kardashian, aka gorgeous), Matt’s hot mom Kay, and some of Matt’s former co-stars, like AMERICAN CITIZEN Laura Jeanne Poon, Jennifer Garner, Kate Hudson, Jessica Chastain, and Anne-with-an-E Hathaway looking like the long lost 5th member of the South Park goth kids:
According to TMZ, Jennifer Lopez – the Barbie to Ariana Grande’s Skipper (you know, if Skipper was created at a Bratz factory located in the 7th circle of Hell) – is in the middle of negotiating a residency at The Axis at Planet Hollywood. Did you just hear that? Literally every JLo impersonator in Nevada just threw their best pair of padded ass panties across the room in a fit of rage.
TMZ says that JLo is being offered $350,000 per show for 72 shows (3 times a week for 24 weeks) over a one-to-two year period. JLo would join another shimmering jewel from the early 2000′s TRL-era, Britney Spears, who is currently performing at The Axis. To put JLo’s $350,000 per show into perspective, Brit Brit only makes $310,000 a show but she gets 96 shows over a two-year period, which means she ends up making more money in the end (because it would be a crime not to pay the Chicken-Fried Princess of Kentwood anything less than top dollar). In case you’re bad at math, Britney is getting almost $30 million to lip-synch “Baby One More Time”, while JLo would get a little over $26 million to lip-synch “Love Don’t Cost A Thing”. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here getting paid NOTHING to lip-synch RuPaul’s “Peanut Butter” at my desk all day. RUDE!
I’m not sure how I feel about JLo bringing her sexy Miami cougar realness to Las Vegas, but I think I like it? JLo can still break it off, dance-wise, and I bet she’ll be a real treat after 3 or 4 of those $8 booze-filled slushies you can buy everywhere on the strip. Not to mention she’d make an excellent Cristal Connors if her and Brit Brit ever want to do a Showgirls-themed number together. Oh my god – Planet Hollywood, I don’t care how much it costs, PLEASE make that happen!
Praise be! Annie Lennox, the no-fucks-given queen, is thankfully still with us after coming for Beyoncé by calling her “feminist lite” and “cheap” last month. I was so sure that such blasphemy against Our Lady of Perpetual Lacefronts would result in Annie getting kidnapped in the middle of the night by a balaclava-wearing Basement Baby (who was promised a fresh clump of dryer lint for her bed if she could “make the problem disappear”). And it looks like Annie still doesn’t give a fuck, because she’s hissing at Yawncé about feminism once again.
During an interview with NPR (via Daily Mail), Annie was asked to further explain the comment she made about Beyoncé being the Diet Coke of feminism, which is basically the fancy public radio way of saying “Please please please say more beautiful shit about Beyoncé.” And she did! Sort of…
“Listen, twerking is not feminism. It’s not – it’s not liberating, it’s not empowering. It’s a sexual thing that you’re doing on a stage; it doesn’t empower you. That’s my feeling about it.”
“The reason why I’ve commented is because I think that this overt sexuality thrust — literally — at particular audiences, when very often performers have a very, very young audience, like 7 years older, I find it disturbing and I think its exploitative. It’s troubling. I’m coming from a perspective of a woman that’s had children.”
I’ve missed Annie’s diplomatic cuntery like the deserts missed the rain, and I truly appreciate that she says whatever the hell she thinks, but that comment about twerking made NO goddamn sense! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Beyoncé “twerk”. I’ve seen her rub her horny robo-coochie against the seat of a chair while proudly showing off her b-hole like a cat, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen her twerk. Unless Annie thinks twerking is the same as surfbort-ing? Maybe someone can ask her to explain that comment during the next interview she gives.
Regardless of what kind of feminist Beyoncé is, Annie should know there are more important things she should be shading Beyoncé about. Like Beyoncé’s jacked-as-hell 1950′s pin-up afghan hound hair!
Sadly, there’s no video from the actual fistfight between Alaskan teen mom sweetheart Bristol Palin and the owner of the house where she got into a messy drunken brawl with her Ski-Doo Crew, but I’m sure you could watch a video of two racoons fighting over a trash can and it would be basically the same thing. Until then, please enjoy the audio of Bristol giving a statement to the police. Don’t worry, it’s just as messy! It has to be – it’s the Palin way!
During the conversation, which was recorded by Anchorage police and obtained by TMZ, Bristol bring the drama by drunkenly crying that it all started when some old lady walked up and pushed her little sister, which triggered Bristol to hiss “Oh fuckin’ hell no“, aka the redneck equivalent of “Oh here go hell come“. Bristol then gets out of what she calls “the limo” (I assume “the limo” is a nickname for their nicest truck), but before she can find the bitch responsible, a dude knocks her to the ground in her camo-print “thong dress”(the Slut Dress has an Alaskan hillbilly cousin, I see), the proceeds to call her “you slut, you fuckin’ cunt, you fuckin’ this” and drags her ass across the grass by her feet. “Aw, Todd did the same thing on our wedding night.” – Sarah Palin.
But the thing Bristol seems most upset about isn’t that her 5-year-old was in the car the whole time (he was, again – it’s the Palin way) or that her glamorous-sounding thong dress was damaged. It’s that someone made off with her $300 sunglasses! HER $300 SUNGLASSES! Now how will she hide the hangover in her eyes every morning?
And in case you want to see the injuries Bristol sustained, here are the police pictures after the brawl. All I really care about is whether or not the camo-print thong dress is okay! Will it require any stitches?? Pray 4 camo-print thong dress!
Because Sex and the City – the horny 4-headed cerberus from Hell named Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and whatever Rojo Caliente’s wife’s name was – will never ever die, Sarah Jessica Parker chose to stage a photo shoot for her shoe line, SJP, outside 66 Perry Street in New York City’s West Village, aka Carrie Bradshaw’s apartment. Unfortunately, the people who currently live there now are sick and tired of the never-ending armies of SATC-obsessed women mashing their half-eaten Magnolia cupcakes into their brownstone stoops while they take 1,385 selfies in front of the pretend home of Our Lady of Manolos. So they’ve installed a chain along the front of their stairs, as well as a sign instructing people to step the fuck off. Oh, owners of 66 Perry Street – you’re such a Charlotte!
However, Sarah Jessica Parker clearly doesn’t give a fuck about signs or chains (that, or she saw that the little man on the sign had no feet, and thought the “Do NOT go on the staircase please” rule only applied to footless amputee shadow people) because she decided to dump a fuckload of her high heels all over the stoop of 66 Perry and along the sidewalk. Then she took a bunch of pictures for Instagram, collected her shoes, and galloped off into the sunset.
And now Page Six says that the residents of Perry Street are fucking PISSED, because SJP violated their neighborhood with her blatant disregard of their sign. THE AUDACITY! A source claims the owners of 66 Perry have tried to contact SJP for an explanation of how she could endorse such a photo shoot, considering there is a very clear ‘no trespassing’ sign. So far, SJP hasn’t returned their calls. But Page Six says that the president of the Perry Street HOA, Gerald Banu, is aware of the situation, and understands why they’re so mad:
Ryan Phillippe, seen above in all his panty-dampening ramen-haired glory in 54 (which I presume is not one of the 5 good movies he’s talking about) recently spoke to the Los Angeles Times (via Us Weekly) about his new film Catch Hell, a movie he co-wrote, directed, and stars in as a washed-up actor named Reagan Pierce (oh boy) who gets kidnapped by a pair of rednecks one day on set. Ryan confessed that the character of Reagan was inspired by his own career, one that he admits has been pretty dookie-filled:
“I did this terrible movie with 50 Cent,” he told me, referring to the 2011 heist flick “Setup” — which as far as I can tell, was never even released theatrically. “It was just a situation I didn’t want to be in. I was sold a bill of goods and it turned out to be something different, which is often the case in this business. I’ve made 30-plus films over 20 years. And in my opinion, five of them are good.”
I’m sorry, but acting along side noted thespian 50 Cent is a PRIVILEGE! Ryan should be so lucky! Besides, getting paid a couple hundred thousand to show up and burp out some lines for a direct-to-DVD movie starring 50 Cent sounds like he’s living the dream. And I bet he still gets that sweet Laura Jean Poon AMERICAN CITIZEN child support money. Jealous!
Ryan never mentions what his 5 ‘good’ films are, but let’s hop over to his IMDB page and see if we can’t figure out what 5 movies he’s talking about. Clearly MacGruber is #1. White Squal is both #2 and #3. I’ve never seen Five Fingers, but it sounds hot, so that’s #4. And I’d say that 54 is #5, because anyone who could act opposite Mike Myers in low-budget drowsy-faced Steve Rubell drag without bursting out laughing truly deserves an Oscar.