It really isn’t New York City’s month. First Ebola and now they have to deal with Taylor Swift being the official welcome mat of their city. That’s a title that should’ve gone to absolutely anybody in NYC besides Tay Tay. Dr. Zizmor, the elegant dream makers of Grand Prospect Hall and the glamorous master of Trash and Vaudeville were all ROBBED!
Taylor Swift’s new album “1989,” which will probably sell a million copies in its first week, came out today and since there’s a song called “Welcome to New York” on it, NYC’s tourism board and Taylor’s people have joined forces to queef up a terrible, terrible marketing idea. I guess “Welcome to New York” is the new unofficial welcome anthem of NYC, because Tay Tay has been named NYC’s Global Welcome Ambassador. When I visited NYC for the first time, within two hours of my visit I was welcomed by the sound of a drunken homeless guy saying to me, “Hey, cake boy, give me a dollar will ya?” That is the welcome anthem of NYC. Not a Taylor Swift song!
Taylor, who has lived in NYC for about 6 minutes, made the announcement on Good Morning America today (thrilling pictures below) and also said that she’s going to perform in her new hometown on New Year’s Eve. As part of her new role as NYC’s Global Welcome Ambassador, Tay Tay shot a cringe-inducing NYC orientation video where she educated visitors on what a bodega is, how to say Houston Street correctly and what “NoHo” is. NoHo isn’t only a neighborhood in Manhattan, it’s what I shouted out loud when Taylor announced that she was the new face of NYC. While watching that mess of a video, I kept waiting for Tay Tay to tell visitors what to do if a dude starts jerking off on their leg on the subway, but then I realized that stuff like that probably doesn’t happen in her chauffeured SUV. NYC’s newest mascot also spit this out:
“I’m still learning, but I’m so enthusiastic about this city that when I love something, I’m very vocal about it. New York was a huge landscape for what became this album. It’s affected my life in ways I’m not even aware of fully.”
Maybe Taylor isn’t such a shitty choice after all. It’s hard to live in Manhattan unless you caca money and can easily write a check for your $20 million apartment without blinking. So she’s a fit!
I always knew that if NYC was a human it’d be a gay dude and now that it’s in a contract relationship with Taylor Swift, my suspicion has been confirmed! I can’t wait until NYC rips up its relationship contract with Taylor and she goes back to the Christmas tree farm to write the break-up song titled “I Hate The Way You Say Houston.”
The Los Angeles premiere of Interstellar (aka Gravity 2: Electric Space-aloo) was held last night, and for some reason, Anne Hathaway decided to decorate her right hand with a bunch of jagged metal Krusty Os. NO! I know they’re supposed to be stars, but they seriously look like something that could do a shit-ton of damage. I’m sure many people at the after-party spent the entire night terrified that the DJ would yell “Wave your hands in the air if you just don’t care!“, and prompt her drunk ass to start whipping that thing around like a mace. Wait, do Hollywood premieres even have DJs? I don’t think it would matter; Anne Hathaway strikes me as the type who lives by the mantra “dance like no one is watching, sing like no one asked.”
Then again, Anne could be wearing that angry net of pewter star barnacles (starnacles?) to deter any more journalists from trying to shake her hand. Just because she loves you doesn’t mean she wants your dirty Ebola germs, people!
But as much shade as I’m throwing Annie H for that diamond-encrusted disaster, I legit love it for two reasons:
1. It reminds me of when Charlotte’s 1 million spider babies are born at the end of Charlotte’s Web
2. It’s giving me flashbacks to the mountains of busted-looking Jazzy Jewelry I made as a kid. In fact, I’m pretty sure I made something similar to what’s on Anne’s hand, except it was a necklace and it was covered in glitter glue. And to answer your question, yes, it looked STUNNING paired with my Northern Getaway turtlenecks.
Here’s more of Anne and her low-budget Dr. Claw hand at the Interstellar premiere last night, as well as stoned armadillo Matthew McConaughey and his wife (who sort of looks like a sexy puddle, if that makes any sense?), Jessica Chastain, and Renesmee from Twilight:
Disney needs to pull Aladdin out of its library and completely retool the part where Aladdin and Princess Jasmine sing “A Whole New World” together. When Aladdin sings, “I can show you the world, shining, shimmer, splendid,” to Princess Jasmine, he needs to steer his magic carpet to the nearest laptop, go to YouTube and bring up this magical and enchanting video of a boy cat in drag going on an extraordinary journey on a magic carpet Roomba. Because this video is a wonder.
If that cat’s North West-approved “¿por qué yo” face looks familiar to you, then you’ve probably seen him in the Oscar-winning (in my head) masterpiece Cat Wearing A Shark Costume Riding A Roomba. Max-Arthur the Roomba taming cat is a true professional and artist. He will do anything in the name of HIGH ART including dragging it up as Princess Jasmine. Unless you watch a porn movie where a lady makes a balloon animal with her snatch, Max-Arthur is the most talented pussy you’ll see all day.
I was going to title this shit “RIP Martin Lawrence,” but it’s Monday and nothing would be crueler than making you think that there will never ever be a Sheneneh movie.
E! News and People both say that Jennifer Lawrence’s nipples are no longer getting hard as she inhales the bland scent of Chris Martin’s ass burps, because they have broken up. Martin Lawrence first became a thing this summer and they were never really photographed together together, but they did end up in the same picture in September. I know, your soul is probably still raw and bloody from being rocked by that breaking news. Now they’re over for whatever reason. People and E! News didn’t say. Maybe one of Jennifer Lawrence’s friends knocked her out of the waking coma she was in by hitting her over the head with her middle finger umbrella and she realized that fucking Goopy Paltrow’s leftovers is no way to go through life.
I don’t even know if they were actually ever together. If a bear shits in the woods and nobody smells it, did that bear really shit in the woods? If Kim Kardashian gets married and 200 cameras aren’t there to document every whorey detail, did Kim Kardashian really get married? If Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Martin never posed together in a staged photo-op, were they ever a couple? Was this a failed PR stunt or just one of those “get stoned and bone two times” situations or did we all just make it up?
Anyway, since JLaw is really into British dudes who look like they cry after cumming, I’m guessing she’ll start dating either Benedict Cumberbatch or Prince Charles next. Since Chris Martin is really into blonde Oscar winners, I’m guessing he’ll start humping on Zero Dark Thirty’s gorgeous sound editor.
And once Goopy Paltrow finishes gooping out of her goop holes while cackling over this news, she should get back with Chris Martin, because they really are a match made in insufferable cunt heaven. Why fight it?
Aspiring fragrance mogul Rihanna has released her fourth fragrance, a scent for guys called Rogue Man, which judging by the name and this ad, makes me think it’s a perfume for guys who want to smell good after they bust out of prison, Shawshank-style. RiRi teased the release of Rogue Man last week by Tweeting some ~artsy~ black and white pics of her rubbing up against some random tattooed dude like a horny alien princess in heat, and she finally launched it on Saturday at a Macy’s in Atlanta, GA. But it’s not just a fragrance! RiRi told E! that she’s hoping Rogue Man will give people a major case of the hornies:
“I’m all about the ladies so this is one time I get to do something special for my men, but the ladies still get to enjoy it,” she explained. “All my male friends have it. I tested on them first. I also sent it home with my girls to test it out on their boyfriends.”
Speaking of boyfriends, Rihanna wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the scent could act as an “aphrodisiac” for happy couples.
“That’s what I love about fragrances,” she shared with E! News. “It draws people in and also creates memories and makes things stick and certain emotions are evoked through it at certain moments and you remember it.”
Watch out, powdered rhino horns and dehydrated tiger penises and other weird aphrodisiacs; RiRi is coming for the boner-making market! And you should probably watch your back too, Viagra; I heard Rogue Man will give you the kind of 4-hour erection that you won’t want to call your doctor about!
The only thing I don’t understand is why she gave it such a boring name. Rogue Man sounds kind of like Rain Man, and that doesn’t make me horn-horn at all! She should have given it a way raunchier name. The obvious choice would have been to call it Rude Boy, but I would have also accepted something next-level vulgar, like Fuck Spray or Get Cha Dick Wet or just a picture of two people fucking. It’s not too late, RiRi!
Here’s Princess Ooh-Na-Na having a goddamn great time at the unveiling
Rogue Man Fuck Spray at Macy’s on Saturday:
While leaving the office of her stylist Rachel “Chupacabra” Zoe in L.A. on Friday, Jennifer Lawrence, who was dressed like the lost member of One Direction, continued her love-filled love affair with the paparazzi by hitting their lenses with a fuck you umbrella. I was all about that umbrella until 2 things happened:
1. I found out that umbrella cost 45 goddamn dollars and I’d never spend that kind of coin on an umbrella especially since I already have a pile of half-broken bodega umbrellas I dragged with me from NYC. It never rains here, so I only pull those umbrellas out when RiRi’s “Umbrella” plays on iTunes and I need a prop to dance around with.
2. I realized that if it does actually rain on Jennifer Lawrence’s head, that umbrella will become an aggressive, dark-sided, unholy threatening tool against the gods when she holds it the way it’s supposed to be held. It’ll flip off the angels up in heaven! (Lucifer’s mistress, Pimp Mama Kris, just bought 100 of them, thankyouverymuch.) Although, like I said up above, JLaw’s never going to do that since the closest she’ll ever get to getting rained on in L.A. is if she’s stopped at a red light with her car window down and the dumb piece of trash next to her decides it’s a really good time to wash his windshield and that washer fluid splashes all over her. It’s happened to me once and I still spend many sleepless nights trying to track down that motherfucker so I can get revenge.
It was nice of JLaw to give her middle finger the day off. Usually JLaw uses her actual middle finger to tell the paps how much she loves them. Because she’s been dating Chris Martin, her middle finger is probably exhausted and tired since she regularly uses it to pop his stuck doody bubbles after he makes up for lost times by filling his mouth hole with Arby’s and Taco Bell. So it was very considerate of her to give her middle finger a break on Friday.
Speaking of Chris Martin, if you want to see the $8 million Beverly Hills house that will soon be filled the sound of his farts (which sound like Bono’s farts except whinier if you can believe that), click here.
Is it just me, or does it look like there’s a tiny lil’ third boob trying to grow out of Halle Berry’s right shoulder? Mugatu says: “Shoulder titties, so hot right now.”
To promote the re-launch of the French lingerie line Scandale, Chichi Hall of Fame member Halle Berry recently confessed to Yahoo! Style (via Page Six) how she keeps her opulent titty orbs so bouncy and fresh, and it’s all thanks to her mom. Halle says that when her boobs were but tiny berries, her mother sat her down and explained to her that one day her berries will grow into giant melons, but if she didn’t take care of them, they’d turn into two long butternut squashes. The solution? AWB: Always Wear a Bra!
“My mother taught me when I was very young that if I don’t want my boobs to hit the my knees by the time I’m 30, always wear a bra, even to bed.”
If this isn’t the catchiest of 22s, then I don’t know what is. On the one hand, I would love to be 93-years-old and still have perky show-stopping titties peeking out from the unbutoned neckline of my Granny’s Choice housecoat. But on the other hand, there is no way in Hell, Heaven, Purgatory, or Pimp Mama Kris’s House that I’m wearing a bra any longer than I have to. Bras are the assholes of the clothing world. They’ll turn on you faster than prison snitch. One minute your titties are napping comfortably in their snuggly padded hammock like two sleepy retriever puppies, the next they’re being poked to death by a pissed-off piece of underwire.
Besides, there’s no greater feeling that taking your bra off at the end of the day; it’s like chugging a beer and ripping an extra-long bong hit while a sexy octopus gives your soul an 8-handed back massage. Sorry Halle, I just can’t give up that euphoric post-bra feeling!
All weekend long, TMZ burped up receipt after receipt after receipt that continued to bury the caca river of denials that Mama June shat up after it was reported that she’s been seeing a convicted pedophile who molested her eldest daughter, Anna “Chickadee” Cardwell, ten years ago. TMZ spit up pictures of Mama June shopping for a place she and her registered sex offender boyfriend Mark McDaniel can play house in and pictures of her allegedly buying a Nissan for the trash who abused her daughter. The rotten, corroded shit cherry on top of the barf berry cake is a picture of June’s Pedobear boyfriend hanging out with Honey Boo Boo. Meanwhile in the Ninth Circle, Lucifer’s minions are busy engraving Mama June’s name on the door that leads to Hell’s special place.
And now for a WTF story about a sleazy Canadian radio sex scandal (sadly, this story has nothing to do with The Deaner getting a radio show called What’s Crappenin’ with The Deaner).
CBC radio host Jian Ghomeshi (aka that guy who pissed off Billy Bob Thornton) was given walking papers by the CBC yesterday after it came to light that he was an ass-grabbing creep of the highest order. According to The Toronto Star, several women have come forward alleging that they were attacked by Ghomeshi in a variety of not-right ways after they agreed to go on dates with him. The women claim that after meeting Ghomeshi at public CBC events, he would contact them through Facebook (FACEBOOK??!?) and ask them to come over to his house for some rough sex. What he failed to mention was that “rough sex” meant greeting them at the door, Chris Brown-style, by smacking them in the face and proceeding to choke them out.
Jian claims it was all consensual, but the women say there was no safe word and they all felt fucking terrified. However, none of them filed assault charges with the police, because they were afraid it would go public. Apparently he brought that shit to work with him too; a woman who used to work with Jian at the CBC claims that he came up behind her at work one day, grabbed her ass, and told her: “I want to hate fuck you.” Ooooh, so romantic!
Of course, once the CBC found out about the allegations, they fired his ass and put his daily radio show, Q, on hiatus. Jian responded by hiring a fancy PR firm, threatening to sue the CBC for $50 million dollars, and releasing a douche-dipped statement to Facebook (that dude loves Facebook) in an attempt to clear his name. I’m not going to post the whole thing, because it’s LONG AS HELL, but here is all you really need to know:
An upskirt photo of Michelle Duggar shows a hole in her underwear. – sarcasatire
Ceiling Fan! - Official Gerard