Daddy Spears finally got his shit together and managed to hire a member of Hollywood royalty (we are talking about Susan Saint James here) for the title of Brit Brit Spears’ newest chaperone/boyfriend/doggy bag holder. Just two months after Normal Guy Dave got pink-slipped and took his ass to the back of the unemployment line, Brit Brit has started hanging around Charlie Ebersol, seen above in costume (I fucking hope) at his 30th birthday party 2 years ago. Charlie is the son of big-time TV producer Dick Ebersol and Susan Saint James. I know, Daddy Spears moves fast.
E! News says that Our Lady of Cheetos and this Charlie Ebersol dude met through “friends” and have been dating for only a few weeks. Some source dribbled this out:
“He is the sweetest guy ever and they are very much enjoying getting to know one another. They are both very happy and having fun. It’s just the beginning so no idea if it will become serious but right now they are having a lot of fun together.”
Charlie’s dad conceived Saturday Night Live with Lorne Michaels and he was the head bitch of NBC Sports for a while. I’m assuming everybody learned about Susan Saint James in American history class, so I’m not going to tell you all the stuff she was in. Charlie followed in his father’s producing footsteps and recently produced a non-trashy reality show called The Moment which helped people get a second chance at making their career goals come true. The show was special to Charlie, because he survived a 2004 plane crash that killed his brother Teddy.
Charlie also used to bump nipples with Sophia Bush and Maria Sharapova.
I don’t even know what a member of Hollywood royalty (again I’m saying that because his mom is Susan Fucking Saint James) and a member of hillbilly royalty have to talk about? Probably Breaking Bad. That’s usually what straight people talk about, right? If they don’t, it doesn’t matter. Talk is cheap when you’re one of Brit Brit’s contract pieces. All Charlie has to know how to do is order a Frapp, hold a Cheesecake Factory doggy bag and busy himself while she watches Frozen on her phone in between courses at Buffalo Wild Wings. I hope Daddy Spears signed Charlie to a long-term contract so that he can take Brit Brit home to meet his mom and Susan Saint James can inject some much-needed culture into her by showing her How to Beat the High Co$t of Living.
And here’s Brit Brit looking like she just got a shot of Botox in the mug and nips while leaving VONS yesterday.
The 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall is this weekend and to commemorate that important event in history, some evil motherfucker thought it would be a really good idea to set up this dark-sided wax siphoner of souls in front of Brandenburg Gate.
Since David Hasselhoff single-handedly brought East Berlin and West Berlin together when he performed at the Berlin Wall in 1989 while wearing a glamorous piano scarf and Lite Brite jacket, he’s expected to burp out some speech (while eating a cheeseburger, I’m sure) at a peace conference in Germany on Saturday. I hope Germany’s adopted golden child likes speaking to a crowd of no one (‘Eh, I never notice” – The Hoff), because everyone’s going to bust out of Germany as soon as they see this waxed monster in person:
Why does it look like it’s saying, “Heeeeeeeeere’s Hoffy!”
That thing looks like Bruce Jenner’s clenched asshole. The people of Germany are going to petition to bring back the Berlin Wall and build it around that nightmare in wax leather. Once it leaves, Micaela Schaeffer is going to have a hell of a time cleansing that square of dark-sidedness with her angelic nipples.
With all that being said, yes, yes, I’d still hit it.
In honor of the 10th anniversary of Mean Girls, aka the movie to which I dedicate my life’s laughter and tears (whatever the fuck that means), Tina Fey was kind enough to postpone working on her night cheese to reunite with former actress and current freckled mess Lindsay Lohan for Entertainment Weekly’s reunions issue. At least I *think* that’s supposed to be Lindsay Lohan; it actually looks more like a heavily Photoshopped/heavily sedated come-to-life Lindsay Lohan My Scene doll. Only Tina knows for sure. Tina, did it try to distract you while it rifled through your purse for pills or ask to borrow $60 million? Then it wasn’t the doll.
They also told some stories about what it was like filming Mean Girls, like this one about Lindsay Lohan sounding like the definition of 2004:
Tina: “I remember 17-year-old Lindsay was on a mission to find pink Uggs. That was, like, what she was working on. And there was one day where she tried to explain to Amy and me her beef with Hilary Duff, but we couldn’t crack it. But we were pretending we could follow it.”
Lindsay: “I had been online trying to get pink Uggs because I had a pink pleated skirt in the scene where I fall into the garbage can. I was like, ‘I need pink Uggs!’ I mean, I was rhinestoning my phone at the time with Swarovski crystals. [Laughs] So it was somewhat Method.”
That clever grifter-in-training! “I need pink Uggs! Uh…I mean…my character needs pink Uggs. Maybe a couple pairs actually. Tags on, just in case I…I mean, “my character” (wink)…decides to sell them for cash.”
Tina and the Apricot Ashtray were also joined by their Mean Girls co-stars Rachel McAdams, Lacey Chabert, and Amanda Seyfried. Wait, that’s it? No Janis Ian? No Damian? No chihuahua who tries to take a chunk out of Mrs. George’s tit? NO KEVIN GNAPOOR?!?! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you can’t have a Mean Girls reunion without math enthusiast/bad-ass MC Kevin Gnapoor!
But if this leads to Shauna Sand starring in an NBC show titled Bad Mom, Lorenzo Lamas will be my #1 hero and the maker of my dreams.
In the meantime, the ticketing machine in the Ninth Circle of Hell is printing out a special VIP ticket with Lorenzo Lamas’ name on it, because TMZ says that he’s still trying to get custody of his three daughters with the Empress of Lucite and has accused her of being a shitty role model and mother. Will somebody please rip off Lorenzo Lamas’ too-tight t-shirt, because it’s obviously cutting off the circulation to his brain and is causing him not to think right. How can he think that an earth goddess who educates all of the children in the important subject of elegance is a bad mom?! Lorenzo Lamas is a bad human for slandering the Empress of Lucite like that.
Somewhere in a solid gold diamond-encrusted Illuminati pyramid playhouse on a private island you’ve never heard of, Blue Ivy Carter has started practicing her “Bitch, NO” face to be used in the future for when she forms a platinum-selling super group in her garage with Kelly Rowland’s new baby and Michelle Williams (“Michelle, here’s $50; go sing backup for my kid” – Beyonce), and Kelly’s baby has the audacity to claim they’re the second lead vocalist.
People says that on Tuesday afternoon, Kelly Rowland gave birth to the Destiny’s Child growing in her fetus hatch, and now she and her husband/manager Tim Witherspoon are the parents of a baby boy named Titan Jewell. Kelly told People back in July that her husband had picked out the name for their baby and that it had something to do with family, so I’m guessing Tim’s dad is either the alien mayor of one of Saturn’s moons or the dude who released the Kraken. And Jewell is a great middle name, because babies are expensive as hell and should be named after the expensive stuff you’ll no longer be able to afford once you give birth to one.
And you should probably go ahead and prepare for a Stage-10 internet meltdown now, because it will be only a matter of seconds until that shady bitch Beyonce bumps the release of that second surprise album she was working on from next week to today in an attempt to yank the spotlight away from Kelly. First rule of Beyonce: nobody outshines Beyonce!
I didn’t really keep up with the election results last night, because as far as I know Anderson Cooper didn’t read the results while sprawled out naked on a newsdesk. I watched gay porn instead (so I guess it was more like “Erection Night” for me, sorry). But I did check in every now and again to see if North Carolina’s 2nd district would be come Claymate central. It’s not going to. Clay “Always A Bridesmaid” Aiken was once again first runner-up. The good news for Clay is that at least he didn’t have to hear the news from Ryan Seacrest’s smug frog face.
The day started out pretty shitty for Howdy Doody’s preppy cousin when his campaign bus broke down after he voted for himself. It was a sign! As the results started coming in, Clay Aiken realized that he was going to be the Clay Aiken to his opponent Congresswoman Renee Ellmers’ Ruben Studdard. Renee Ellmers got almost 59% of the votes and is now representing North Carolina’s 2nd district in the House of Representatives.
HuffPo says that North Carolina’s 2nd district is mostly Republican and Clay ran as a Democrat, so he was the underdog in that battle and everyone expected Renee Ellmers to take the crown. A black cloud covered Clay’s campaign a few months ago when his opponent for the Democrat spot died. This was Clay’s first time running for political office.
Clay losing makes me ask myself, do the Claymates even exist anymore? Are they as rare as a Dlisted post without at least one fuck up in it? Are there no longer any middle-aged, Walmart-shopping, Dodge Grand Caravan-driving crazy ladies who stitch a clean and fresh picture of Clay’s face onto the crotch of their cotton panties every morning? I have a feeling that the Claymates still exist and those shifty bitches sabotaged Clay and voted against him. Because if Clay won, he’d be too busy doing whatever politicians do (get drunk at lunch and troll for ass on their smarts phones – heh, that’s my job description too) and he wouldn’t have time to give them a hot flash sequel by performing in a county fair concert or a regional production of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. If Clay became a full-time politician, he wouldn’t be able to summon the curdled panty pudding out of them by giving them pucker-inducing images like this:
I see you, Claymates. How can you call yourself Claymates and Americans?! Those dumb Claymates. If Clay won, he was going to wear that to his swearing in ceremony.
Damn, those eyes! If Justin Timberlake ever decides to switch careers and get into cult leadership, we’re in trouble. Those are some “Come try this delicious punch I just made” eyes. Anyways, enough about what’s going on in those crazy eyes and more about what’s going on in Jessica Biel’s baby pouch.
Last week, InStyle Editor-in-Chief Ariel Foxman accidentally announced (then quickly deleted) that Jessica Biel has a fetus living rent-free in her womb, and now Us Weekly is chiming in as well by saying that, yes, Jessica Biel is in fact knocked up. Us Weekly says that several blabbermouths have confirmed that Justin Timberlake put his dick in her box, said “Iiiiii wanna see you out that door, baby bye bye bye” to his fastest ramen noodle-haired sperm, and now Jessica Biel is knocked up with his high-energy offspring. One of the sources says:
“Right now they are just enjoying the news for themselves. They just want a happy baby.“
They just want a happy baby? Good luck with that. Unless Baby Timby is given a complimentary pair of noise-cancelling headphones at the hospital, I give it 0.3 seconds before Justin’s high-pitched dog whistle voice lullabies give it a permanent case of Grumpy Cat NO face.
Neither Justin’s rep (Joey Fatone) nor Jessica’s rep (the dog from 7th Heaven) have commented on the existence of said Timberfetus, probably because they’re waiting for a fat check from People, but we do know when the baby is due:
Lordy, I’ll show myself out for that one. But for real though, Justin probably planned that shit on purpose. “Jessica, hurry up and ovulate! ‘It’s gonna be June’ doesn’t work!“
If I could, I’d make a green bean and French’s onion casserole for all of you Cumberbitches out there as an offer of my condolences, because I know it’s a heartbreaking and sad-filled day for you and your vagina (who is probably wearing a black lace coochie veil right now). As you already know from the loud sound of the Cumberbitches wails mixed in with the sound of the lizard kingdom letting out a million celebratory chirps for their king, Bonnebell Combover is one hundred percent engaged to his girlfriend Sophie Hunter (or as some of the Cumberbitches call her: That Ostrich-Faced Homely Harlot Trollop Whore Who’s Lucky That Benny Needs A Stunt For His Oscar Campaign Ugh I Hate That Bitch Tramp!!!!####121!!!!!).
38-year-old B. Cum and 36-year-old Sophie announced their engagement in the “Forthcoming Marriages” section of the Times and that might seem like some posh Downton Abbey shit, but I expected their engagement to be announced by a messenger reading from a scroll in the middle of town square. Here’s their little announcement (which some Cumberbitches have already written in black mascara tears on their pillows before punching it repeatedly while screaming):
The engagement is announced between Benedict, son of Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch of London, and Sophie, daughter of Katharine Hunter of Edinburgh and Charles Hunter of London.
Benihana Cameraphone and Sophie Hunty, who’s an actress and theater director, met for the first time when she was eating a salad in a garden and he crawled onto her leg to beg her for a piece of wet lettuce. It’s been true love ever since. No, they’ve been friends for years and started having hot alien lizard human sex ever since. This is what Sophie Hunter looks like if you need to put a face to the object of the Cumberbitches’ RAGE!
B. Cums and Sophie Hunty didn’t say when they’re getting married, but I’m sure it’ll be right after molting season so his skin can look extra fresh and shiny. And don’t feel too bad, Cumberbitches. Once the wedding pictures come out, you can paste your face over Sophie Hunty’s face and put the picture next to her voodoo doll on your mantel.
After being pregnant for what felt like a hot second (I swear the announcement came out last week), Robert Downey Jr.’s wife Susan has evicted the baby living rent-free in her body for the past 9 months. Those babies – such freeloaders! People says that Susan and Iron Man are now the parents to a baby girl who was born in Los Angeles. Baby Downey Jr. joins Susan and DRJ’s two-and-a-half year old son Exton Elias and RDJ’s 21-year-old son Indio.
So far, RDJ hasn’t said anything about his new baby friend on Twitter or Facebook, but when he does, it will no doubt be very Robert Downey Jr.-y. However, the thing I’m looking most forward to is that baby’s name! When RDJ first confirmed that he’d busted another bareback Iron Man nut into his wife, he joked: “Yo. Susan. Me. Baby. Girl. November. Scorpio?“, and I really hope he meant he planned on naming that baby Scorpio. Look, I know it has everything to do with the fact that her due date was between October 24th and November 22nd, but just let me believe! Scorpio Downey is a hot name! It sounds like an alias used by a devastatingly glamorous aspiring soap opera star-turned-British spy. Scorpio Downey knows all your secrets, but Scorpio Downey will never talk. NEVAH!!!
Not to mention it works perfectly with the other two kids’ names. Indio, Exton, and Scorpio – how dramatic! It sounds like the most successful law firm in Hell, which is always what you should be going for when you name your kids, right?
UPDATE: Pour one out for Scorpio Downey, the hot name that was never meant to be. RDJ just tweeted that the name of his new baby girl is Avri Roel Downey, and she was born yesterday morning. Avri Roel? It’s no Scorpio, but it kind of sounds like a drunk chick trying to pronounce Axl Rose, and I can get behind that.
The Voting Day Ass Crack and new symbol of the midterm elections!
Dixon Nixon (UPDATE: I truly always have DIX on the brain because I read his last name as Dixon) of Missouri wasn’t up for re-election this time around, but he still wanted to tell his Twitter followers and the people to get their ass out there and vote! So one of his aides twatted out this picture of him voting next to a lady with her back side-smile hanging out and added the note, “Make sure to cast your ballot & make your voice be heard.” I’m taking that to mean that the butt next to him let out a fart. Someone on the Democrat governor’s team hit the delete button a quick second after that election day ass crack scooted along Twitter, but nothing ever truly dies the true death on the Internet and it was passed around more than John Travolta in the Scientology bathhouse.
Dixon Nixon shouldn’t have deleted that shit. Election Day is usually full of people making asses out of themselves so it was a perfect way to start the day yesterday.
And Missouri really is the Show Me State.