Hilary Duff has a new video out for her song “Reach Out,” which completely samples rips off Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus.” No. No. No. This is illegal, right? A ho like Hilary Duff can’t just take a Depeche Mode song, rip it to shreds, violate it and spit all over it! Something must be done! I want to reach out and slap her.

When I turn off the sound, the video isn’t that bad. But Hilary Duff is trying to bring the sexy and it isn’t really working. It’s like a cutesy chipmunk, putting on lingerie and trying to sex you with their eyes. It’s a little uncomfortable.

After you listen to that abomination above, wash your ears out with this:

The Olsen trolls left their post at the bridge today to sign copies of their pretentious book at Barnes & Nobles in NYC’s Union Square today. The book weighs more than the both of them combined.

The little evil trolls were greeted by the bitches from Peta who dressed up for the occasion and stood in the rain. I know what I’m going to be for Halloween now….

I bet the Olsens would take “fur tramps” as a compliment. They probably smiled at Peta hos and said, “Aww. prune. Thank you. prune. That’s sweet. prune.”

Here’s the Olsen trolls looking kind of clean (?) while signing the book of a really hot fan today.

Over the weekend, TBS played “Pretty Woman” and I had to stop and watch it, because Shane Ross, Marie – Snobby Salesperson #2, is one of my favorite actresses. When she says, “It’s very expensive,” I feel it in my soul. I truly believe that the dress is VERY expensive.

Anyway, I was hoping that Julia Roberts would feel the same way I do and produce a sequel. In the sequel, Edward Lewis suddenly dies after he shoves a gerbil way too far up his ass and it eats his vital organs. After her husband’s death, Vivian Ward Lewis decides to do some good in the world, so she buys the store that scorned her many years ago and turns it into a refuge for unfashionable prostitutes.

At the store, Vivian finds that Marie has been demoted to stock person, because now she’s much too ugly and old to be in the front of the store. Vivian takes Marie under her wing to build up her confidence and turn her into the good woman she always wanted to be. In the end, Vivian and Marie realize they have fallen in love with each other and they get married on Rodeo Drive while The Supremes’ “Back In My Arms Again” serenades us to the end credits.

Unfortunately, Julia has stomped on my dreams. At last night’s Painted Turtle benefit in San Francisco, she said there will never be a sequel. She said, “No one wants to see an old hooker! Do they?” No, but I want to see Marie again, dammit!

Here’s the dream killer and Pepaw Bruce Willis last night.

While planning a pool party, have you ever thought to yourself, “This party would be so much better if Michael Phelps did laps in the pool while we all sip Mai Tais and watch“? Okay, you probably have, but some bitch actually made it come true.

According to Page Six, the dolphin god was paid $100,000 to swim a few laps at an LA pool party for the wifey of some TV boss.

If you’re going to pay that bitch 100 grand to do a few strokes, he’d better do it naked and on top of you.

The shit people spend their husband’s money on. I swear. Although, I shouldn’t talk, because I practically emptied out my checking account buying way too many bags of Mother’s Circus Animal Cookies from this site.

Vintage Holly Madison before plastic surgery made her purdy – Hollywood Tuna

The HBICs of Kabbalah aren’t pleased with Vadge – IDLYITW

Jessica Biel doesn’t look completely like a she-hulk – Egotastic!

T.I. handed over his V Card at the age of 11 – Just Jared

Christian Bale won some fugly award – Lainey Gossip

Elvis Presley is alive! – Hollywood Rag

This is why people hate America (site NSFW) – Drunken Stepfather

I haven’t decided if Rafael Nadal is hot or not – Towleroad

Halle Berry with an afro. Just. No. – Popsugar

Princess RiRi’s trapped crotch – Cityrag

Saint Angelina floated into the Hollywood Film Festival Awards Gala last night surrounded by archangels and the audience “gasped” at the sight of her. I didn’t make up that “gasp” part. A couple of people died too, but Saint Angelina’s face veins didn’t even move. She’s used to it.

Saint Morticia was there to pay tribute to Clint Eastwood. She spoke about him, but nobody could understand the words that came out of her mouth, because it just sounded like a thousand angels singing in unison. Everyone’s ear wax suddenly melted away. If there was a deaf person in the room, they would be able to hear again.

After the saint spoke, Pepaw Clint Eastwood dragged his corpse on stage to accept his award and drown Angie Jo in more compliments. He said, “Working with someone like Angelina Jolie is a great privilege, because you get to look on that gorgeous beauty every day. And she’s a great talent.”

Why must Clint always tell us this? WE KNOW! It’s been tattooed into our brains that she’s a stunninggorgeousbeautifulperfectalloftheabove goddess who queefs holy water. And anybody who thinks otherwise has already been informed that they will spend eternity in hell. I’ve already received my plane ticket for flight #666.

Here’s a few more of the pepaw zombie and the holy hunchback wax figure last night.