Before we start, is that bulge all Glamberace or did Paula Abdul misplace her stash again? Discuss during the break. So….
Glamberace’s concert on ABC’s Good Morning America has been canceled, because they are afraid he’s going to deliver an encore of his AMAs dry humping orgy. Mickey Mouse needs to get his head shoved into a warm crotch for that one. ABC issued this statement:
“We hate gay stuff in the morning. Well, except for you, Sam Champion.”
No, this is their statement:
“Given his controversial American Music Awards performance, we were concerned about airing a similar concert so early in the morning.”
It’s not like Glamberace is going to piss on Diane Sawyer’s head or ass queef into Sam Champion’s face (Sam wishes). Why are whores even flaring their nostrils over NOTHING. This just confirms that the government needs to start handing out vibrators to everyone. Bitches need to loosen up, because it really isn’t that serious. However, ff they banned him because of his screeching, that would be a different story….
Patricia Heaton is on an ABC show and her face is way more offensive than ten million shots of Glamberace getting a fake blow job.
Kinko’s will be busier than Lil’ Wayne’s sperm fishes in the next few weeks, because Twihards and Twimoms (UGH) will be getting all their copies of Taylor Lautner’s Rolling Stone cover laminated to protect it from…um…stuff.
IN THIS ECONOMY, Rolling Stone should be maximizing their profits by selling this cover in panties and dildo form. I mean, we already know what those horny Twihards are going to do with this magazine, so Rolling Stone would be saving them from suffering a dozen unfortunate paper cuts.
And if this makes you uncomfortable, just focus on the giant brown peen head growing out of the back of his head. I’m hot helping.
via The Frisky
In 2006, a tape featuring Kid Pebble and Scott Stopp (on purpose typo) getting their used tampons sucked by a bunch of skanky groupies made the internet rounds. In a new interview with Spin Magazine (via HuffPo), the Christian banger says that he did not have sex in the biblical sense on tape. You know, because it isn’t considered “sex,” unless it’s in the missionary position, on your marital bed, with all the lights off and at least one of you are crying out of shame.
Scott told the magazine, “Well, there’s no sex on the sex tape. For it to get characterized that way, I mean, that kind of sucks.” I’ll say it sucks.
Do we really need someone to sit Scott down, hold his hand and tell him how this “sex” thing works? Scott is probably one of those fucktards who thinks that sticking the tip in and twerking the dick just a little doesn’t count as an intimate act. The bible says that when all else fails, just scream, “IT WAS JUST THE TIP!”
Scott Stump (another OPT) went on to fart that getting a dick job next to Kid Rock made things a little awkward between them, “What sucks about that is Bob — Kid Rock — and I were friends. He’d been over to my house and we jammed and hung out. We were in Tampa playing with Metallica, and I walked into his trailer and there were some strippers. It’s a time in his life and a time in my life that we’d like to put behind us and not publicize because we have children now, and they’re in school, and their friends read. I know he was pretty pissed off at me when that came out. We haven’t sat down face-to-face. I did apologize to him that I didn’t just burn that thing. I thought that was a skeleton in the closet that would never find the light of day.”
But have they sat down face-to-ass? That was a trick question.
And in case you haven’t seen this, here’s the trailer for that never-released video of Scott and Kid Pebble not having sex with a bunch of strippers in a bus:
At a birthday party in NYC the other night, Precious herself, Gabby Sidibe, cuddled up to the most glamorous being on every planet in the universe, Joan Collins. Since Joan is a professor of glamour, the tips of her wig and her sparkly diamonds probably broke into a sweat when she saw Gabby’s puffy vest (with FAKE FUR!). But Joan kept her comments to herself and instead they talked about diamonds, gold, champagne, caviar, corporate takeovers, Persian kittens, bubble baths and how Joan was in talks for the Mo’Nique role in Precious. Hopefully, they also discussed the possibility of working together in a remake of Big Business. That is exactly what the world needs right.
Here’s more pictures of Precious and Alexis along with something called a Nikki Haskell who tried to turn that party for two into a threesome.
I also threw in some pictures of Gabby at the Me & Orson Welles premiere with purdy purdy Zac Efron. Fun fact: Whenever Zac Efron says the word, “precious,” a peen learns how to pucker.
Lisa Rinna’s face is usually covered with ten shades of lead paint, Spackle, plaster of Paris, resin and adobe mud, so she decided to Tweet a picture of herself in her natural state before the team from Extreme Facemakover arrived to work their magic on her. Lisa wrote:
“This is what it looks like before beauty team arrives. Just keepin it real ppl!“
Lisa Rinna in all her painted glory looks like she’s about to get her wig snatched by a really hot Miss Gay Brazil contestant. And Lisa Rinna SANS FARDS looks like a zombie who just woke up after being frozen for 100 years. I’ll say she looks better SANS FARDS since her lips don’t totally look like they are filled with anal gland fluid like they do when she’s got them painted up.
But honestly, this post was just an excuse to use “SANS FARDS” again.
Dreamboat Doherty was forced to cancel a few gigs last month, because he was in the hospital for “exhaustion” and “breathing difficulties.” Well, it seems that his heart was the bitch who had the tireds in a major way, because it grabbed a body pillow and took a long nap!
Dreamy tells NME (via The Sun) that his heart stopped beating and he had to be put on life support. You’re probably peeling yourself off the floor right now after reading that Dreamy still has a semi-working heart. Yeah, we all figured his heart busted out of there a while ago and is sunning its ass cheeks on a beach in Thailand somewhere.
Dreamy explained, “If I hadn’t been on a life support machine I’d have been in Ireland. But my heart stopped. It was a really strange turn of events. Obviously, the doctors’ immediate thought was that it was to do with drugs but it wasn’t – it was some kind of poisoning.
What happened? Well, I don’t know, I don’t remember. At the time I thought I was a taxi driver offering to take everyone to Elephant And Castle. I was running into the walls, making steering wheel signs with my hands. And then I just… stopped. My body just stopped.
I’ve always had a slight dickie heart, I was born with it. I’m fragile in there, you know?”
A DICKIE HEART?!!!? Is it hung? Does it pre-cum alot? Give it my number. It can find it in any stall at any men’s rest stop bathroom from here to Gibraltar.
Dreamy swears he’s not on the wrong stuff, but that “running into the walls” and “making steering wheel signs” behavior is shit my mom’s cat does all the time. And that cat hits the pipe like it’s part of his religion. But whatever you fart, Dreamy.
And really, it’s okay to admit that the picture of Dreamy gave you the drips a little. Yes, the drips are probably your body’s way of cleansing itself of seeing Dreamy in all his gory, but you still got the drips!