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Before Beyonce gets doused with a bucket of metallic paint, rolled in rhinestone dust, attacked by a pack of wigs and sprayed with the sweat of a thousand Glittery Gays of YouTube, she looks like this.
This morning in Rio de Janeiro, Beyonce slipped on her custom-made “just rolled out of bed” lacefront and greeted her fans on the balcony of her hotel room. And by “custom-made,” I mean Solange was down in the basement teasing and knotting that thing so it could look as natural as possible. Basement Baby gets an A+!
The marriage of The Real Housewives of Orange’s Tamra Barney and that creepy Simon dude is currently in the gutter right next to Lynne Curtin’s parenting skills and Alexis’ call girl past (I’m convinced she has one). Radar says that right after Simon filed for divorce from Tamra, she ran off to cry on the peen belonging to Eddie Judge. Eddie is Simon’s best friend.
Simon said that when he saw the two holding hands at a club in Las Vegas, he was so devastated that he dropped to his knees ala graceful Vicki. Somebody give Lynne a sippy cup filled with Freixenet, because we’re going to need her to cry Botox tears for Simon. Turns on the tears, Lynne:
After Simon pulled a dramatic queen cunt move by falling to the floor, he confronted his best friend Eddie who kept quiet. Simon went on to say, “I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed — the ultimate betrayal by a pal and my estranged wife. I started to feel weak and feel to my knees. The doorman helped me and by the time I had regained my composure they both left to the other side of the club.”
Tamra confirms that she’s whoring it up with Simon’s best friend, “We are romantically involved, he is a great guy. It was bound to happen that we both would start dating again after he filed for divorce. It was going to happen sooner or later. I don’t know what the future holds with Eddie and only time will tell.”
The only thing I need to know is if this Eddie dude can keep Tamra in the lifestyle to which she used to be accustomed to before Simon’s checking account flat-lined. Tamra deserves to live in the biggest track house on the cul-de-sac, drive a pre-owned BMW and wear the finest rags Off Saks has to offer. On second thought, scratch everything I wrote because I just had a last-minute vision of a barefoot Tamra hunting for empty cans in the dumpster and it brought a twinkle to my soul.
Oh, and can someone tell Lynne she can stop crying for Simon now:
If any more moisture seeps out of her, she’s going to shrivel down into a damn raisin. And how entertaining would it be to watch a drunk raisin? Actually, it would be really entertaining. Cry on, Lynne!