Queen Elizabeth II is 91 years old, and she looks pretty damn good for 91. Turns out there may be a reason why The Queen doesn’t look a day over 86, and it could be that her insides are preserved like an expertly aged jar of pickles from all the booze she drinks. Based on zero research, of course. I’m just going with what I know: that wine is basically a health elixir, and that a human gut can only take so many cream-based party coolers (those do no favors for no body).
Aretha Franklin did all us pupils at the Skewl of Camp a favor earlier this year when it came out that she faxed over her true thoughts to Dionne Warwick over some lingering beef from Whitney Houston’s funeral. The throwback use of communication would normally deter a normal soul from lobbying any jabs, but no-no, henny. Ms. Patti LaBelle is no normal being, and she’s regretting that gel manicure she got on Monday because it’s Wednesday, and she’s ready to (subtly) sink her claws in to Miss A-Screech-a Franklin. Continue reading
Kim Zolciak never shies from a chance to use her kids as media pawns: first it’s some light prostitution whore-ah-ing for John Legend tickets, and now it’s time to strike a pose – short of vogue-ing cuz #class – while the kids recover from a tonsillectomy. Hey, at least they can hopefully nab a group rate discount from Aetna!
E! reports her son Kash Biermann and daughter Brielle Biermann were hospitalized, the former for an adenoid removal and the latter to get her tonsils tossed. Tonsil removal get worse with age, and I remember half my first grade class hating that bitch of a procedure then. So Brielle is sure as shit not feeling A-OK today. Or is she:
Thanks to Wig’s in-house chef Tracey Bloom, Brielle got a box of dick-shaped mac and cheese! I’m pretty sure you’re only supposed to eat Frosties and Fro-Yo when recovering, but since when did anything in the Zolciak household make sense?! Plus, cheesy dick is better than dick cheese! No word on if these dicks in her mouth came with concert tickets.
Pics: Instagram, Snapchat
Anthony Scaramucci is the stuff from which legends are born. Like a greasy comet that oozed across the sky leaving a tail of Drakkar Noir and Frappuccino foam, he passed through our solar system and was gone before we knew what had happened.
One week after Angelina Jolie did an interview with Vanity Fair and accidentally set the internet on fire with accusations of traumatizing Cambodian children like some kind of severe-cheekboned Willy Wonka, the trailer for her upcoming Netflix film First They Killed My Father has been released. Some might have waited until the tsunami of bad press surrounding First They Killed My Father died down a little. Or maybe Angelina figured that telling the haters to step to the left was enough damage control. I don’t know! Either way, we’ve got a trailer to watch now.
Silver Foxes, the Golden Girls homage featuring old gay dudes, is lying dead out on the lanai. And Hollywood bigotry is to blame! (I’m with you, because I, too, figured that it wasn’t happening because Bea Arthur looked down from the higher plane that she’s surely ruling and snarled “You’re replacing me with Bruce f**king Vilanch?” Continue reading