Aaron Paul and his wife Lauren “Pretty Bird” Parsekian of four years announced yesterday that they are expecting a baby and I’m mad. I’m not mad at them, I’m happy for them but I’m mad at People for this:
From Breaking Bad to water breaking!
Really, People? You should have saved that line for the birth announcement!
And that, my friends, is the exact face one should make when they’re in the presence of one of Pimp Mama Kris’s Krotch Droppings. “I don’t care how much we paid for admission, we need to leave. Now. Seeing one of the babies means that the mother isn’t far behind.”
Friday marked the kick-off of the world’s largest hipster costume party, the Coachella Jorts and Selfies Festival in Indio, CA, and I guess all those $20,000 cheques cleared, because celebrities have started swarming Coachella like rats to an open dumpster behind KFC. Now, technically Coachella doesn’t officially begin until the arrival of the First Lady of Fauxhemia, Vanessa Hudgens. But since it usually takes her hours, even days, to get ready (it takes time to dry hump the 70s), she usually let’s them go ahead and start without her.
I know we’re less than 24-hours into this weekend-long Urban Outfitters commercial, but already Aaron Paul has won my heart by embracing the true spirit of Coachella. It’s not about $200 custom jorts or having the longest gauzy vest or the widest hat; it’s about dancing like nobody’s watching while rolling hard on shrooms:
Either Aaron Paul is higher than Jesse Pinkman after snorting a pound of blue crystal meth, or he’s working hard for that $15,000. Either way, I’ll be right back: I need to pray to a giant piece of New Age quartz that there’s a video somewhere of Aaron Paul dancing to Ellie Goulding all by himself in a little circle, because I need that in my life.
Here’s more hookers clickety-clacking along the Coachella stroll on Friday, including Selena Gomez (sans King Joffrey Bieber), Marla Hooch and The Model One (that sounds like an 80s cop show: Hooch & The Model) Joe Jonas and his girlfriend Basic Bitch Blanda, a rotten leftover from the refrigerator of 2005 and her sister Nicky Hilton, and Kellan Lutz, who if I had to guess, got paid $200 and a voucher to a taco stand:
If you’ve got the shakes and the meth sweats from coming to terms with the fact that you’ll never get another Breaking Bad fix again, this might sober you up. DJs Zen Freeman and Tom Neville asked Aaron Paul to say “BITCH” for the fifty billionth time in their new dance track “Dance Bitch.” It’s like Brit Brit’s “Work Bitch” only a million times worse. Actually, I take back that whole “this might sober you up” thing, because this song made me want to smoke meth through my ears.
And since that song is pain for your ears, here’s some beauty for your eyes. It’s Aaron Paul going crazy and looking like a pirate with jizz in his eye while screaming at the paps during a walk with his wife in West Hollywood the other day.
Usually if you park outside a stranger’s house and peer into their windows, they might come out with a shotgun and threaten to shoot your eyeballs into the next block. If you park outside of my abuelita’s house, she’ll probably come out and turn the garden hose on you. If you park outside of my uncle’s house, he’ll probably be in the front yard watching TV on the porch and he will throw an empty Corona bottle at you. But if you park outside of Aaron Paul’s house and creepily look in his windows, he’ll see you, wave and then walk down three flights of ten million stairs to talk to you. (Seriously, Aaron Paul lives in a fucking Esher print.)
The McNeive clan of Ireland were doing some sort of star homes tour when the van pulled up in front of Aaron Paul’s house. Aaron saw them and came down to talk to them. Aaron told them that whenever he’s home when a van full of star watchers pulls up, he tries to get up close and personal with them. That’s nice of Aaron Paul and everything, but if I was the McNeives, I’d be so disappointed, because he didn’t call any of them a bitch and he didn’t try to sell them blue meth.