On July 1st, crazy-faced insanity weasel Nicolas Cage walked into Walgreens, picked up the big bag of Werther’s Originals and one of those wooden beaded car seat covers, tried to pay for his $20 purchase with a handful of 200-year-old Prussian thalers, then drove his 1965 gold-plated Coupe DeVille through the locked gates of his local lawn bowling club, where he proceeded to rip off his shirt, crush butterscotch hard candies into his chest hair, and scream “I AM ONE OF YOU NOW!”.
I’m sure you’re thinking: “So?? Isn’t that what Nic Cage does every day?”, but on this particular day, he was celebrating the birth of his grandson. On July 1st, Nicolas Cage’s equally-crazy son Weston Cage and his wife Danielle became the parents to a baby boy they named Lucian Augustus Coppola Cage. A rep for Weston (so, basically Weston?) told Us Weekly that the baby was born at 3:14pm, that he’s named after Nic’s dad August Cage, and that he came out wearing smudged black eyeliner and giving the sign of the horns. I might have made that last part up, but until I see photographic evidence that it didn’t, I’m choosing to believe newborn Lucian Cage moshed out of Danielle’s uterus to Lamb of God. Prove he didn’t, Weston Cage!
And I can’t wait for 10 years from now when Nicolas Cage is a little older and very much crazier, and he decides to re-create the “Me and Julio” scene from The Royal Tenenbaums. But instead of go-karts and shoplifting chocolate milk, he’ll be teaching little Luci how to put a rattlesnake in a sleeper hold and where to find the best peyote.
In Condoms We Bust. – Sheena
Captain America knows that a shield isn’t always the best protection. - I am Legend
Dolly, the adorable ball of white fluff who was abandoned at the Glastonbury Festival by an evil twat who has a heart made of dead assholes and whose name just went up on the reservation list at Hell’s special place.
When Glastonbury ended and clean-up crews came in to pick up the thousands of tents that were left behind, they expected to find the usual like used condoms, a passed out Courtney Love (You always expect to find a passed out Courtney Love when you’re doing clean up after a music festival), dead bodies and puddles of blood and tissue from people cutting their own internal organs out to trade that shit for a bag of K. But they didn’t expect to find an angel snowflake of a dog hanging out in one of the tents after her demon cunt owner did Lucifer’s work by abandoning her. The Guardian says that the dog was named Dolly after the reigning Queen of Glastonbury Dolly Parton and was taken to the Happy Landings shelter in Pylle, Somerset. The Happy Landings shelter says that besides an ear infection (poor bitch probably listened to Skrillex’s set), she’s doing good and they’re waiting for someone to come and pick her ass up. In a video message (below) and a statement, Dolly’s namesake promised to adopt her and bring her to America if nobody comes and gets her.
“I had my manager call the Happy Landings animal shelter to make sure the dog is being treated and cared for properly. At this time, nobody has claimed the dog and the dog is in great hands at the shelter. I will take her home to America if nobody claims her within a reasonable amount of time.”
What a diamond-covered saint… Dolly truly has a heart of gold and I mean that literally, because I’m pretty sure she got her plastic surgeon to dip all her of her internal organs in rose gold and crushed rhinestones.
Fuck Dolly the Dog’s owner if they purposefully left her at Glastonbury. If Dolly’s humans ever show up at Happy Landings, she should play dumb and be like, “Don’t know the bitch.” Because if nobody comes and gets her, she’ll go to a much, much better and beautiful and shinier place: Dolly’s house! Why go back to the owners who might’ve dumped her ass when she could go to Dolly’s Tennessee mansion where she’ll get to wake up to Dolly’s angelic voice and her exquisitely sculptured face? Hold out for Dolly, Dolly!
Pic: The Sun (Thanks Judy and Tammy)
Shelley Duvall (65)
Ashton Irwin (20)
Toni Garrn (22)
Michelle Kwan (34)
Hamish Linklater (37)
Berenice Bejo (38)
Christian Camargo (43)
Cree Summer (45)
Jorja Fox (46)
Jim Gaffigan (48)
Mo Collins (49)
Jeremy Kyle (49)
Vonda Shepard (51)
Billy Campbell (55)
Jessica Hahn (55)
David Hodo of The Village People (67)
Ringo Starr (74)
Doc Severinsen (87)
Miley Cyrus’ living room altar to her fallen dog Floyd wasn’t a tribute enough, I guess, because yesterday during a party at her house she continued to honor him by getting his face inked into her body. But Floyd is shaking his head and spitting on that shitty tattoo from heaven, because that isn’t an honor, it’s a dishonor! That tattoo is offensive to Floyd, because a) It looks like it was done in 7th grade home room with a BIC, a lighter and a safety pin, and; b) That doesn’t look like Floyd, it looks a barrel-chested cat pig. The ultimate dishonor is making a dog look like a cat.
Miley getting a crappy tattoo is one thing, but her friends got the same tattoo and one of those friends is Wayne Coyne from The Flaming Lips.
What are you going through, Wayne?!
Wayne Coyne’s family needs to speak to an interventionist right away, because a mid-life crisis has taken a sharp, ugly turn down It Wasn’t Not Funny Blvd. when the mid-life crisis haver is partying with Miley Cyrus and getting her dead dog’s face tattooed into his body. Wayne Coyne is 53 years old and 53 years old is way past the point of Too Old For This Shit. Wayne needs to take his ass home and after he Googles the address to his nearest laser tattoo removal place, he needs to email Iyanla right away, because his life needs fixing. If you should ever find yourself around Miley and she offers you a joint, run away immediately, because whatever kind of dark-sided lizard witch craft herbs she mixes her shit with causes hos to do crazy things that they can’t come back from (see: WAYNE COYNE).
You know you’re far gone when emo pony Trace Cyrus, who didn’t get that tattoo, comes off like the reasonable and sane one.
I know, I would’ve guessed that Taylor Swift’s “family portrait” would’ve ben her posing with her cats, her collection of yarn dolls and the cardboard cutouts of all the dudes she’s stalked. But instead, Taylor Swift’s family portrait, which was taken at her Rhode Island beach house over the weekend, is filled with A-listers (see: Emma Stone), E-listers (see: Jaime King) and never-was-on-any-listers (see: Jessica Snooze-ar from Gossip Girl). After they took this picture, they got drunk on the bottle of plum wine Taylor stole from her parent’s liquor cabinet, crank called John Mayer, practiced kissing on each other’s hands and played “Light As A Feather, Stiff As Board.”
And in that sea of mostly pretty mostly white girls who probably smell like Victoria’s Secret fruit mist is Lena Dunham looking like the creepy 10-year-old little shithead brother who sneaks into the basement during his older sister’s slumber party to watch the girls sleep, steal their panties, smell their hair and fart in their duffel bags.
One of the half-digested ass raisins floating in the 20-minute-long diarrhea puddle that Kanye West shat out during his set at the Wireless Festival in London was about how he’s so sick of the paparazzi constantly “violating” him. Yes, this is the same paparazzi that his gutter tramp of a wife has listed under “favorites” in her iPhone above North West’s head nanny. While getting booed by the crowd who paid money to hear him rap and wasn’t there to listen to the heave-inducing whines coming out of the bruised anus slit he calls a mouth, Kanye brought up Brit Brit Spears’ paparazzi drama and then quoted the definition of “rape” from Kristen Stewart’s dictionary when he said that the paps taking his picture is just like getting sexually violated. I was going to say that Kanye’s Liberace gimp mask was obviously on too tight and squeezing his brain, but he always spits out fuckery like that with or without a Liberace gimp mask on. via The Independent
“I don’t care what you do in life, everybody needs a day off, everybody has the right to say, ‘You know what, I need a minute to breathe’. I want to bring my family to the movies without 30 motherfuckers following me. Everybody here, they like sex right? Sex is great when you and your partner are like, ‘Hey, this is what we both want to do’. But if one of those people don’t want to do that, what is that called? That’s called rape. That is called violation. So if I walk around and say look sir, I’m not feeling so good today, I need some space, can you please not fuck with me today? I need cut-off space, not violation.”
Even though this dried crotch berry gave us the definition of “rape,” I still don’t think he knows what that word really means. Nobody with a half a working brain cell would ever define the Kartrashian’s relationship with the paparazzi as “rape.” It is the complete opposite of “rape.” There’s nothing more opposite than that. If Kanye wants to compare paparazzi attention to “sex,” then I’d say that the Kartrashian’s dealings with the paps are more like a trick putting their address in a Craigslist casual encounters ad where they invite absolutely anybody to a full, blown orgy at their house. Kim getting papped is such a traumatic experience for her that she calls them all the time, texts them her exact location and then posts pictures from the “attack” on Instagram with hashtags like #Hermes.
And that wasn’t the only nugget of delusion that the former rapper turned full-time ranter barfed up:
“I want my daughter to have that opportunity to decide whether she wants to be famous or not. I think to myself, what the fuck am I going to do, how can I change it and how can I give my daughter her childhood?”
Says the level 10 attention whore who yanked at Anna Wintour’s asshole until she put his baby in Vogue, solely named his kid North West because he knew it would get them trending on Twitter and has a pimp-in-law who has already planned his daughter’s first scandal. Nothing says “I want a private family life” like procreating and marrying the fame whore of all fame whores.
And once PMK finishes cackling at Kanye’s cute, little “I want my daughter to decide whether she wants to be famous or not” comment, she’s going to try to smooth things over with the paps by calling each and every one of them to say, “He didn’t mean RAPE rape.”
Here’s Kim shooting her reality shit show in the Hamptons last week while spending time with the people she sees more than her own kid. No, I’m not talking about The Slow One and Lord Douche. I’m talking about the paps.
ICYMI: Joan Rivers Pulls An “I Quit This Bitch” During A CNN Interview When She’s Asked About Wearing Fur
Joan Rivers has been in the game since before the beginning of time and she probably taught Jesus how to work a stunt for maximum publicity (yeah, that whole “cross” thing was Joan’s idea). So yesterday, while whoring out her new book Diary of a Mad Diva during an interview with CNN’s Fredricka Whitfield (no relation to Sheree, I think), Joan pulled a stunt to sell her book. Joan’s latest face nearly melted off of her skull and slipped down her body onto the floor when Fredricka asked her question she claims she didn’t like. Fredricka set her facial expression generator to “condescending as fuck” when she poked at Joan for being mean to rich, famous whores and questioned her about wearing fur on the cover of her book. Joan played with Fredricka for a little while and answered the questions until the fur question came up. Joan spit out an ultra dramatic, Helen Lawson-like “I’VE BEEN IN THIS BUSINESS FOR 50 YEARS!” speech before pulling off her earpiece and dramatically exiting stage left.
“You know this whole interview is becoming a defense interview. Are you wearing leather shoes? Shut up. You know what I mean? I don’t want to hear it. ‘You’re wearing fur.’ You’re eating chicken. You’re eating meat. I don’t want to hear this nonsense. Come to me with a paper belt and I’ll talk to you. You know, I’m going. I really am going, because all you’ve done is negative. All you have done is negative. I made people laugh for 50 years! I am put on earth to make people laugh. My book is funny. I wear fur that was killed 15 years ago. I work for animal rights. STOP IT WITH ‘And you do this and your’re mean.’ You are not the one to interview someone who does humor. Sorry!”
Yes, Fredericka kept throwing the kind of patronizing “Sure Jan” smiles that my only friend in the 7th grade threw at me when I introduced her to my “girlfriend,” but that was a tame ass interview overall. Joan’s skin is literally made of Kevlar and that’s one of the strongest kinds of plastic, so I doubt those easy questions really got to her. A STUNT QUEEN stunt is a STUNT QUEEN stunt. But I’m surprised that Joan didn’t end the interview by flipping Fredericka off before saying, “Here’s the missing plane, tranny!”
For a second there, the gold diggers of the world were starting to get nervous and didn’t think that Eric Johnson would fulfill his wallet-humping destiny and get another win for the gold diggers. But after a three and a half year engagement and 2 kids, Eric finally scored another one for the #getmoneybitch league when he became Jessica Simpson’s second husband at the place where every goddamn basic ass celebrity gets married: San Ysidro Ranch in Montecito, CA. Raise your shovels and rejoice!
People says that the professional tight end turned professional stay-at-home dad married the professional dieter and greatest shoe mogul of our time in front of 250 guests including Jessica Alba, Diana Ross’ son, Asshole Simpson, CaCee Cobb and Donald Faison. They all watched as Eric promised to love, honor, obey and cherish Jessica until death or a zero balance savings account does them part. Or until Eric loses it at the Thanksgiving dinner table and stabs Papa Joe in the hand with a steak knife after another game of grab-ass. People says that Chestica wore Carolina Herrera (here’s a sketch of her dress) and the instrumental version of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” played, which is a weird song to play during a wedding ceremony, but nobody’s accused her ass of making sense. After they got married, Jessica’s rep released this canned statement:
“We are overwhelmed with complete happiness and love having made our eternal commitment. To say ‘I do’ in front of family, friends and, most importantly, our children has been the happiest moment of our lives.”
Congratulations to Chestica! Congratulations to the gold diggers! And condolences to the cake, because after filling her mouth with air, laxatives and dehydrated lemon peels so she’d look as skinny as possible in the pictures she’s going to sell to People, she probably destroyed that thing.
And here’s the only Simpson that any of us care about keeping it sexy while hanging with his “model client” at their hotel pool yesterday morning. Papa Joe bringing his twink toy to his ATM’s wedding is probably the most exciting thing that the Simpson family has ever done. To answer the question that popped in your head when you looked at Papa Joe’s client, I don’t know what the twink is modeling either. Maybe he’s modeling Papa Joe’s daddy dick? But then again, that’s “acting” more than “modeling.”
The referee Bichon Frise who will not stand for a petty bitch fight on its watch. Not on its watch!
When little white dog #1 and little white dog #2 got into a sloppy fight (probably over little white dog #2 being jealous of little white dog #1′s hot tie and collar) like they’re on Love & Hip Hop or some shit, a Bichon Frise, who is obviously the Red from OITNB of the group, jumped in and set its fighting whores straight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual dog read a couple of bitches, but I’m pretty sure some reading took place. And all those little white dogs. They’re like a gang. I’ve heard of the Crips and the Bloods, but I’ve never heard of the Prisses before and that Bichon Frise is my new favorite gang leader, because it doesn’t mess around and doesn’t stand for shit.
And in this video, the part of Jay-Z is played by the dog in the white collar and tie, the part of Basement Baby is played by the chihuahua mix, the part of a bodyguard is played by that Bichon and the part of Beyonce is played by that other dog. Because that other dog isn’t about to jump in and mess up its hair. It just got back from the groomers.