As the wind machines gently blew Beyonce’s weave (read: Basement Baby and Michelle Williams gently fanned Beyonce with palm leaves), she cried out manufactured tears at the closing night of her final Mrs. Carter show in Lisbon. Being the saint that she is, Beyonce cried for all the thousands in the audience who were lucky enough to pay money to witness perfection and greatness! They are truly bey-lessed. - Lainey Gossip
But why does Channing Tatum look like he’s really, really pleased while touching Mila Kunis’ growing fetus dome? Sucio fuck probably has a pregnant fetish – The Superficial
Happy Friday, here’s some Bush cameltoe – Drunken Stepfather
Tami Roman passed the hell out and it wasn’t not funny – Reality Tea
Yes, Choupette Lagerfeld has to listen to the sound of Kunty Karl siphoning the souls out of newborn babies for dinner, but that’s a small price to pay for being the most pampered pussy in the world – Celebitchy
Sally Field’s speech on her gay son gave me feelings and I don’t like having feelings. Must go look at another picture of Pimp Mama Kris to blacken my heart again – Towleroad
That ugly sheet on Kaley Cuoco’s body probably looked sexier and hotter on the bed she yanked it from – Hollywood Tuna
JLo struts her triple-stuffed ass while checking to see the location of the GPS cock ring she makes Casper Smart wear – Popoholic
The Porn Iguana kind of looks like Donatella Versace if Donatella Versace swallowed two sleeping hogs whole and they got stuck in her chest – IDLYITW
Joan Rivers triumphantly returns to The Tonight Show and talks about her dry poon, because why not? – Pajiba
Peter Dinklage hasn’t read any of the Game of Thrones books. Git him, nerds! – ICYDK
Khloe Kardashian was sweet enough to give her little sister a piggyback ride – HuffPo
And here I am still waiting for Bottomless Friday – The Berry
BREAKING: Wheelchair Jimmy and RiRi held hands which means they’re totally fucking and I should know because I hold hands with myself all the time – Popsugar
I should be stabbed in the eye with an exquisite lucite heel for thinking this was Shauna Sand – Celebslam
That picture of the Belle of Skid Row Zac Efron sucking on a Vaporizer was meant to be Photoshopped – Just Jared
And just like that, “UGGs and an adult onesie,” has just jumped to the top of the list of things that make my b-hole frown. Jesse McCartney (or as you probably know him as, “Err, who?“) strutted out of a studio in L.A. yesterday while wearing the official public uniform of the “Given Up On Life And Everything That Goes With It” movement. That bloated face. That adult onesie in public. Those UGGs. It’s as if he’s on his period and was just dumped, and is leaving his apartment for the first time in days to get Duncan Hines frosting, Hot Fries and any Nora Ephron movie from Redbox.
Jesse needed to do what ever ho should do before leaving their house. He should’ve looked in the mirror and asked himself, “When Justin Bieber loses all his money and has to buy all his clothes at Walmart, is this an outfit he’d pick out?”
All that’s missing is a bundle buggy with a busted wheel carrying an overweight shih-tzu named Pebbles, and Lady Gaga would be a dead ringer for my neighbour Florence. And even thought Florence runs the vacuum cleaner at 5am every Saturday morning, never recycles her cans of Ensure, and lets Pebbles fart all up and down the hallway, she’s still a million times less annoying than Lady Gaga.
I’m starting to get a bit worried for Lady Gaga. When I saw these pictures of her leaving her apartment this morning looking like somebody’s South Beach memaw, I became very concerned that she may be running out of people to rip-off. What’s left on the list? She’s cycled though almost everything! The only things left for her to rip-off are cereal box mascots, S Club 7, and Jill Taylor from Home Improvement. And you can cross off Sid & Marty Krofft tv shows off the list, because in the middle of the day she changed into a costume that stole its look from a sleestak’s obnoxious attention-seeking albino girlfriend:
She also looks like a potato bug who’s LOOK AT ME!!! antics are starting to feel a little tired and predictable to the other potato bugs. “Bitch thinks she invented rolling up into a ball” – the Madonna of potato bugs.
In case you’re still deciding what to wear tonight, here’s more of Lagy Gaag (thanks, autocorrect) modelling some very easy to replicate Friday night looks. Do you have a Smurf sleeping bag from the 70s and an old lady visor from Chinatown? Go as Gamgam Gaga. Do you have a stained IKEA duvet? Go as Who Shit the Bed Gaga. Or don’t dress up as either, and go as someone who still has their dignity.
Here’s A Story About A Woman Named Cameo Crispi Who Tried To Burn Her Ex-Piece’s House Down With Bacon
File this under: If Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes was born a crazy white woman from Utah.
KSL reports that the crispy beauty above is 31-year-old Cameo Adawn Crispi (Side note: I hate throwing puns so early in the post, but Cameo Adawn Crispi is truly a hot name. With a name like that, she should’ve been the member of an R&B girl group from the 80s) and she was busted by the cops in Naples, UT after she broke into her ex-boyfriend’s house and tried to burn that bitch down with a pound of bacon. Vanilla Ice just fell in love.
Cameo Crispi’s ex-boyfriend called the cops on March 14th, because she kept burning up his phone with calls and texts and he wanted her to stop. He wasn’t home at the time and he was afraid she was going to go to his house. When the cops showed up to his house, Cameo Crispi was there and they noticed that she was plastered and smoke was coming out of the front door. They went into the house and found the deadly deliciousness cooking on the stove. The officer wrote in his report:
“I asked to come in and observed a wood stove left open with a fire burning inside and hot coals on the floor around the stove. I observed the burner to be on the setting ‘High’ and the bacon to be severely burned and smoking badly.”
The officer turned off the gas stove, put out the fire and arrested Miss Crispi’s ass. They took her to the hospital before taking her to the police station, because she blew a 0.346 on a breathalyzer. She was charged with arson, burglary, assault by a prisoner, interfering with an arresting officer, electronic communication harassment and intoxication. Miss Crispi admitted to the cops that she wanted to burn her ex’s house down to get back at him for doing her wrong. She’s due in court next month.
0.346?!!!! Yes, I know White Oprah considers 0.346 “a slow night,” but most people would find it hard to operate a gas stove while the feeling in their hands is completely gone. But being drunk is the perfect defense for cooking a pound of bacon. Miss Crispi should’ve never admitted to trying to burn her dude’s house down. Because she could’ve told the judge that she had a few dozen cocktails and wanted some bacon. The judge would’ve understood and immediately dismissed her case, because everybody knows that eating bacon while wasted is like getting your salad tossed by an angel. There’s nothing like it.
With that being said, Miss Crispi should get the death penalty for destroying all that bacon.
How fitting: a place famous for taking two buns and stuffing them with greasy questionable meat topped with plastic cheese volunteering to cater the wedding of a cheesy plastic-faced woman most famous for stuffing greasy questionable meat in her buns.
Burger King responded to a story released earlier this week by the Daily Star that said Kanye West was planning on buying 10 European Burger King restaurants as a wedding present for the Grade-F meat patty herself, Kim Kardashian; and knowing that it was most likely untrue, and proving that they have a good sense of humour, they released the following statement to NME:
Burger King Corp. is familiar with the recent news stories regarding Kanye West and Kim Kardashian. We are unaware of any purchase of BURGER KING® restaurants made by either Mr. West or Ms. Kardashian, but we’re available to cater the wedding!
If Kim and Kanye were smart, they’d take Burger King up on that offer, because the scent of Whoppers and BK onion rings is the only thing strong enough to mask the stench of their obnoxious shit-show of a wedding. Plus, the promise of Burger King also works as an incentive to get people to actually show up, since there probably won’t be an open bar (Pimp Mama Kris is a cheap penny-pinching pimp). Then again, the lure of Whoppers might not be enough to make people want to risk being trampled to death by Khloe and The Sock One during the bouquet toss.
A little over a month ago, Matt Rutler’s (seen above making the douche facial expression of a wallet miner who is living the KFed dream) gold digging destiny was fulfilled when his sugar mama Xtina announced that she can stop eating nothing but vapors and lettuce edges to stay skinny, because she’s knocked up again. Now People is saying that the fetus growing in Xtina’s womb is a girl. Well, I hope that baby girl doesn’t like the feeling of air touching her skin, because six seconds after she’s pulled out of her mom’s body, she’s going to be dipped in orange paint and rolled in metal powder.
People says that during a show in Malaysia today, Xtina told the audience that Matt Rutler’s ticket to NeverWorkAgainVille is growing in her body and then she told everyone she’s having a girl. Max, Xtina’s son with Bat Boy, is already 6 years old. We’re all old.
As soon as Xtina announced that she’s having a girl, the headquarters of Spanx, MAC, Coppertone and Sally Beauty all popped the champagne and busted out a scene straight out of Wolf of Wall Street. Glitter cannons went, money fell from the ceiling and they partied as though their penny stock just closed at $48! But you know, they would’ve had a reason to celebrate even if she was having a boy. Because no matter if she’s having a boy a girl, Xtina’s going to wrap that baby in a Spanx onesie and paint it up with so much orange and red that it’s going to look like the inside of an adorable calzone.
You know, I bet Baby Orangina Rouge Aguilera is going to grow up to be a tomboy who hates makeup. Oh shit. Saying that Xtina’s daughter is probably going to hate make-up is definitely the meanest thing I’ve ever said about Xtina. Xtina would rather her baby be homely than hate make-up, because at least she can pretty her up with make-up!
If you’ve never experienced the joy of accidentally sitting beside a ‘looks normal/sounds crazy’ crazy person on the subway (you know – the kind who’s reading an issue of Time, wearing a suit, and staring uncomfortably into your eyes before asking “When do you think the government will release the secret tapes of Jesus testifying against Allstar Seaworthy?”) you’re in luck, because Lindsay Lohan’s most recent appearance on Ellen is a pretty reasonable facsimile. Blohan was there to promote the “docu-series” (which is the conscious uncoupling way of saying ‘reality show’) Oprah Winfrey gave to her, and when asked about The Mighty O, her brain burped out this piece of dried airplane glue:
“I speak to her almost every day, and she’s just…she’s been so amazing to me. Just, you know, for everything, even before the show was coming out”
Lindsay Lohan must be snorting some next-level shit to think that when she dials the phone number given to her by the OWN producers, she is actually speaking with Oprah. Nobody talks to Oprah but Oprah; she only communicates with people by standing in front of a mirror and letting one of her dogs write down what she says. Then again, Blohan has the brain of a not-smart 2nd grader, so she’s probably pretty easy to trick. For example, when I was 5, someone called my house claiming to be Santa, and I was 100% sure I was speaking to Kris fucking Kringle himself, because kids are dumb. Same goes for Lohans; the producers at OWN probably figured out pretty early on and assigned an intern to answer all her drunk-dials. “Hey Lindsay, this is Brad…I mean Oprah. Are you finding your truth or whatever?”
And speaking of trying to pull a fast one, Ellen tried to casually bring up her rumoured fuck list, the Apricot Ashtray changed the subject faster than a Lohan at a DUI checkpoint. Ellen had reminded Blo about her first time on Ellen where she sang a sad break-up song, to which Ellen jokingly asking if she remembered who it was about, followed by “I heard there’s a list going around”. That’s when Lindsay coughed out the words most likely to shut any conversation down: “It was Wilmer Valderrama“. Nothing makes people want to change the subject faster than picturing that sleazy parasite. Bravo, Lindsay; I’m going to have to steal that one for the next time I get backed into a corner at a party.
Porsha Stewart is about as dumb as a dust bunny on a discarded dildo, so I guess somebody with a brain told her what she needs to do to not get fired from The Real Housewives of Atlanta next season. Because UsWeekly, People and Radar say that during the taping of The Real Housewives of Atlanta reunion yesterday,
Porsha Hyundai came at her rival Kenya Moore without a summons and dragged that bitch across the floor by her all-natural hair before security broke them up. Minutes later, the paramedics were called, because thinking of the ratings made Andy Cohen jizz out most of his body fluids and he had to be hooked up to an IV drip.
Radar’s source says that the fuckery started when Kenya Moore Whore (copyright: Shady Phaedra) poked at the rumors that Porsha’s estranged husband Kordell Stewart loves dick on his tongue by bringing out a box of sex toys. Hell hath no fury like a beard scorned! When Porsha jumped out of her seat to attack, Kenya also jumped out of her seat and the boxing bell rang. Radar’s source spit this out:
“Porsha beat the shit out of her! She is a little thing and she jumped on her and pulled her down to the ground by her hair, and Kenya doesn’t have a weave, it is all her own hair.”
UsWeekly’s source says that Andy Cohen and security both jumped in and stopped the fight.
NeNe pretty much confirmed this mess went down by tweeting out this clap of approval for Porsha.
Love u @Porsha4real
— NeNe Leakes (@NeNeLeakes) March 28, 2014
I can’t wait to see Porsha use Kenya Moore Whore as a Swiffer, but that fight seems more staged and choreographed than a WWE fight. Kenya is built like an amazon and Porsha is built like a malnourished wiener dog. Besides, if Porsha ran toward Kenya, Kenya would just twirl, twirl and twirl until that little trick went flying across the room.
UPDATE: Tamara Tattles says that Kenya never brought out butt dildos, but she did talk shit about Porsha’s marriage. Tamara also says that the fight wasn’t the messy bitch brawl Radar and UsWeekly made it out to be. Apparently, producers immediately sent Porsha home and later fired her. I don’t know if I believe that Porsha was pink-slipped, because I thought those HouseMesses got a bonus for beating a bitch.
The day that HARDEST WORKING SINGLE MOTHER IN THE WORLD Goopy Paltrow announced that she and Chris Martin have consciously uncoupled (which is the phrase I’m going to use to describe the act of my hand falling off of my crotch after falling asleep while fapping) Lainey hinted about he and Alexa Chung possibly being a thing. Now The Daily Mail is running with it and they’re saying that while Chris was having marriage problems, he hung out with the dehydrated piece of bland Jicama. Chris certainly has a type. The skinnier and more annoying the better. Bitch probably gets hard when he gets a splinter.
The Daily Mail says that last June, Chris and Alexa Chung hung out at the Glastonbury Musical Festival and had milkshakes together at 4 in the morning at a place called the Shaken Udder (which is the unsexiest way to describe Salma Hayek shaking her chichis). The employee who served Chris and Alexa milk from the Shaken Udder gave The Daily Mail the riveting details of their leche date:
“They turned up together at around 3 or 4am and came over to where I was working at Shaken Udder and said to me and my friend ‘what do you recommend?’ They looked like they were just chilling and having a good time. I did find it a little odd that they were together – but we had a little chat and they wandered off after they asked us if we knew of any good places to go and have a few drinks. hey were having a laugh together, but it didn’t seem that anything was going on.”
Chris Martin is about as cool and edgy as a double pleat on a pair of khaki Dockers, so I don’t know if it’s he’s cool or edgy enough for Alexa’s ass. I don’t know if I’m totally buying them being together, but I totally believe that Goopy flipped out over their milkshake date. No, she didn’t care that he was with Alexa. Goopy couldn’t believe that Chris would drink dairy and sugar in public! How trashy! How gauche! Goopy doesn’t care that Chris puts his mouth on his whores, dairy and sugar, behind closed doors, but to do it in public is pouring generic brand table salt on her wounds. Now all of Goopy’s friends know that he cheated on the macrobiotic, all-organic diet she spent weeks creating with two cheap sluts like cow milk and white sugar. The cheap, 2 cent straw that Chris Martin used to drink his side pieces with was the FINAL straw.
In today’s sermon from Cameron Diaz, the current Pastor of Pussylove United Church, we’ll be taking a break from talking about vaginas. Sadly, the Vagina Series has been put on a temporary hiatus until more comparisons to delicate flowers can be made (several regretful alternate metaphors were tossed around, including comparing the vagina to cheeseburgers and/or Popples). Instead, we’ll be focusing on Pastor Cammy’s theories on female sexuality, specifically the idea of when one woman’s Popple turns inside-out for another woman. When asked about whether she’s ever been attracted to another woman, Pastor Diaz told Glamour UK:
“I think women are beautiful – absolutely beautiful. And I think that all women have been sexually attracted to another woman at some point. It’s natural to have a connectivity and an appreciation for the beauty of other women.”
Normally, I err on the side of Pastor Cammy is Not Smart, but she’s kind of got a point. Personally, I’ve never felt compelled to finger-pop another woman’s Popple, but who knows? I’m still young (or at least, young-adjacent). Maybe one day I’ll see a chick in line at the grocery store buying 2 bags of Cool Ranch ‘Reets and a box of Theraflu, not giving a single fuck that she’s wearing leggings in public and that they’ve got a giant Diet Coke stain on them, and catch myself saying: “Daaaamn! Somebody better call Jesus and tell him an angel is missing from Dirtbag Heaven.” Even if I don’t wanna pop her Popple, I can at least appreciate her beauty.
Here’s more of Cameron Diaz trying to rub her Ya-Ya Sistersnatch up on Leslie Mann at CinemaCon 2014 (whatever the fuck that is) in Las Vegas. Cammy strikes me as the type who’s yoo-hoo is 24/7 horny, so I like to imagine her whispering into Leslie Mann’s ear: “You know what they say: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas! Did you know that I made a movie called What Happens in Vegas? Why don’t we go back up to my room and talk about that over a glass of wine and several hits of ecstasy?” And because this whole story has been pretty clam-heavy, it’s only fair that I also include some pictures of Damon Wayans Jr. and Jake Johnson at the same event dressed as hot cops: