Every year the Crown Queen of HanCOCK Park, Norwood Young, beckons all the glittermeisters and their admirers to his palace of peens for his White Christmas party. And this year was no exception.
Last night, Norwood slipped on Liberace’s old baking ensemble to pop the bubbly and spread the sparkles with guests including Luenell and Natalie Cole. Fur, flames and fabulousness!
You might want to stick an icicle in your ass before looking at all these pictures, because they will definitely give you a flaming fever. Unfortunately, the photographer didn’t get a shot of Norwood’s shirtless gay elves lifting him onto his throne to hourglass wave at all his subjects.
I might as well change the name of Dlisted to Trailerlisted for many reasons, but mostly because lately I’ve been posting trailer after trailer after trailer. Well, here’s another one to add to the trash heap, and this one is going to hurt. It’s the trailer for the re-doodoo of The Karate Kid starring Will Smith’s son Jaded (typo and it stays) in the Ralph Macchio role and Jackie Chan in the Pat Morita role.
Instead of a Japanese master, they gave us a Chinese one. And instead of learning Karate, Jaden learns Kung-Fu. Yet they kept the name “Karate Kid.” Yeah, more like The Confused Kid!
Mr. Miyagi is karate chopping in his grave right now! We need him to kick his way out of there and karate chop this damn trailer.
And just for the record, “jacket off, hang it up, jacket on” is so not the new “wax on, wax off.” However, “jacket and wax off” is.
Daddy Spears will continue to hold the leash wrapped around Brit Brit’s ankle until further notice (probably a year). Yesterday in court, The Commish extended the conservatorship with Daddy Spears and the aptly named Andrew Wallet continuing their duties as co-conservators. Radar reports that this conservatorship is forcing Cheeto Holly to dip into her jerky and Mountain Dew fund.
The Commish ordered Brit to go to her mattress and pull out enough cash to pay her daddy, Mr. Wallet and all the attorneys. I hope it’s a big mattress, because the check has arrived and this is what it looks like:
Daddy Spears: $16k a month
Andrew Wallet: $174,569.10 for services rendered from Jul. ’09 – Nov. ’09
Daddy Spears’ lawyers: $183,918
Joel Boxer, another lawyer: $62,965.06
And even more lawyers: $50k
$16k a month does sound a lot for a Cheeto sitter, but Daddy Spears makes her Velveeta grits and that is priceless!
I know Brit Brit would probably like to spend her days sitting on the back porch and sipping on a jar of moonshine in between shooting cans of Hormel off the yard fence with a BB gun, but unfortunately she’s gotta get back out there and lip-synch some more. Bills have got to get paid. Or maybe she can make a pretty penny by selling her weave to science.
The sad thing is, I’m totally going to go see KY Jelly Sex in the City, but only because it’s really entertaining to watch all the bitches in the audience stroll into the theater dressed up like “Carrie, Samantha, etc…” and ripping their panties off when the theme song starts. It’s like Twilight for the Anistons of the world.
Seriously, the theaters should take advantage of that shit and set up folding chairs at the front of the theater facing the audience. I’d rather watch SATC-aholics bust orgasm face after orgasm face than watch the movie itself. Although, I might turn around when Charlotte jumps on Carrie’s back and rides through the desert while Samantha’s vagina hums the music from Lawrence of Arabia.
Steven Tyler (or Motherfucker, The Rainbow if you know what’s good) has flushed the Vicodin pills down the toilet and said a fond farewell to his back alley pharmacist, because he has decided it’s time to clean his shit up in rehab. 61-year-old Steven told People that he’s gotten way too hongray for painkillers, which he took for the multiple stage injuries he suffered during the last 10 years. The Rainbow issued this statement:
“With the help of my family and team of medical professionals, I am taking responsibility for the management of my pain and am eager to be back on the stage and in the recording studio with my bandmates Joe Perry, Joey Kramer, Tom Hamilton and Brad Whitford.
I love Aerosmith; I love performing as the lead singer in Aerosmith. I am grateful for all of the support and love I am receiving and am committed to getting things taken care of.”
That’s good to hear. Because Aerosmith without Steven Tyler is like Glamberace without eyeliner, me without a no-no or Chicken Cutlets without a camera on her. Sads.
And in possibly related news, Lynne Curtin, the leather dildo from The Real Housewives of Orange County, didn’t show up to court the other day. Hmmm….
As I was downloading these pictures of Sienna Miller in Barbados, my internet and cable TV both packed up their shit and left me at the same time. THAT SLUT SIENNA MILLER! I was rooting for her ass until she did me wrong by using her bull dozer vagina to wreck the happy home I share with Time Warner! Bitch stole my main man right out from under me! That is a low blow, Sienna. Which is probably what she did to get Time Warner to leave me since I don’t do that shit with him (he’s been around).
Anyway, Time Warner says they are “working on it,” but you know that dance. They are probably eating a five-course breakfast at the local diner while watching a bootleg copy of Avatar on their portable DVD player. In the meantime, I’ve put a Ethernet cable up my dog’s culo and he’s sitting on the roof with a wire hanger attached to his head. So…my connection is a little Jessica Simpson-ish right now.
And I’ll also be checking out early, because I’m flying back to the land of Double Doubles and road rage for the holidays. I know, I know. You can file an official complaint with my weekday supervisor Spaghetti Cat.