Last July, the human form of a clump of pubes blocking a drain got into a loud, wreck of a fight with his girlfriend Mia Goth on the street and it ended with him hitching a ride to the airport with strangers. The strangers recorded Shia LaBeouf saying that he would’ve killed Mia if he stayed there. When someone is on record saying that they were thisclose to murdering you, that may be your cue to delete their phone number and send them a break-up letter written on the back of a restraining order. LaDouche and Mia broke up for a second, but they got back together. And now UsWeekly is saying that they’re promised to be married and TMZ has pictures of Mia of the Sunset Valley Goths wearing what looks like an engagement ring on her hitchin’ finger.
I don’t know that much about life, but I do know that it’s probably not a good idea to threaten to beat up Mexico’s biggest drug lord who just escaped out of prison and is responsible for thousands of murders. But since Donald Trump’s brain checked out of his head a long time ago, he threatened to beat up a Mexican drug lord on Twitter.
As you probably know, the head of the Sinaloa Cartel, Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán Loera, escaped out of a Mexican prison for the second time over the weekend. I used the word “escaped,” because I’m not sure what the word is for “being escorted by the prison guards he paid off to the elaborate escape tunnel his minions built.” Since Trump’s shitty words about Mexican immigrants got him a whole lot of attention, he has kept on, kept on, and used the El Chapo news to bring more attention to himself. Jabba the Trump went on a weird Twitter rant where he said that he’d issue a beat down on El Chapo if he was president.
According to Page Six, Michael Jackson might want to take a break from teaching Jesus how to moonwalk in Heaven, because his son Prince is up to some hoodrat shit and needs a good ghost slap upside the head (don’t worry, ghost slaps don’t hurt). A source says that 17-year-old Prince Jackson has been seriously fucking up his ability to choose non-asshole friends by hanging out with trash brat Justin Bieber and his reading-challenged boxer mentor Floyd Mayweather Jr.. I believe that’s what is called a shitty influence sandwich.
Prince Jackson and Canada’s shame apparently live in the same Calabasas neighborhood, so they started hanging out with each other and are possibly “making music” together. I’ll go ahead and assume that’s a euphemism for something else, since we all know Justin Bieber doesn’t make music, he ruins it. The two are also hanging around Floyd Mayweather Jr., who is acting like a low-budget Oprah to the two by giving them life advice about lots of things, including women. Yes, Justin Bieber and Prince Jackson are getting lady advice from convicted lady beater Floyd Mayweather Jr. (I guess Mike Tyson and the ghost of Ike Turner were busy).
Prince Jackson currently gets $66,000 a month from his father’s estate, and something tells me that might be one of the reasons Justin Bieber has made him his new best friend. That shady toddler knows he’s one more private jet purchase away from doing Bad Boy commercials in Canada, so he decided to start surrounding himself with people who can afford to pick up the tab at Chuck E. Cheese every once in a while.
Ugh, this is all such a huge bummer. Hangin’ with Justin Bieber is a bad move on Prince Jackson’s part. Blanket, come get your brother before Justin Bieber starts rubbing off on him and he begins acting like an obnoxious jerk while recklessly spending his money on extravagant crap. “You say that like it’s a bad thing” says Unky Jermaine.
In “Things that should never, ever happen, so please stop making it happen” news, The Hollywood Reporter has confirmed that Lifetime, the people responsible for such embarrassing works of low-budget made-for-tv train wreck trash as Liz & Dick and the upcoming Whitney Houston biopic (oh come on, like we don’t already know that it’s going to be a fucking mess), will air a two-hour television movie titled “The Brittany Murphy Story” on September 6th. Yes, September 6th of this year, which means they threw this shit together faster than 13-year-old me throwing together a science fair project on smoking the night before by asking a friend’s mom to smoke a bunch of filtered and unfiltered cigarettes and describe which tasted smoother (I got a B+).
29-year-old Amanda Fuller of Last Man Standing will portray Brittany Murphy and ageless onyx-haired rose petal Sherilyn Fenn (Twin Peaks, the 90s) will play Brittany’s sort-of crazy mother Sharon Murphy. No word on who plays Brittany’s husband Simon Monjack, but if it’s anyone other than Oliver Platt, I’ll be seriously pissed. The film will follow Brittany’s rise to stardom, which means we can look forward to a dollar store-looking Tai and Cher from Clueless and a knock-off Ashton Kutcher, all the way to her tragic death in 2009. Lifetime hasn’t revealed the source of the script material, but that Sharon Murphy was not consulted, nor cooperated with the production in any way.
There aren’t enough Leslie Knope NO! gifs to sum up how I feel about a Brittany Murphy biopic. Brittany Murphy was a beautiful collagen-lipped butterscotch pixie and there is no way Lifetime will do anything but take a giant stinky dump on her memory. Thank god she’s probably too busy teaching a class on adorable giggling to the angels in Heaven to notice that this shit is happening.
First, Jessica Simpson changes her last name to Jessica Johnson (which is a little weird since I’m pretty sure John Mayer named his johnson “Jessica“) and now Cheryl Cole has taken the last name of her stranger husband and Katie Price is “thinking” about taking the last name of the estranged husband that supposedly boned her best friend while his baby is growing in her womb. It’s name changing day! Let’s all change our last names, and I would play along and change my name to Michael K Cooper of Wales, but I’m pretty sure the restraining orders stop me from doing so.
Cheryl Cole continued to be the British poster ho for “Bitch, what are you doing?” when she married the French playboy she knew for a grand total of 3 months. Cheryl Cole made Jean-Bernard Fernandez-Versini her second husband a week ago and just like she did with her first husband, Ashley Cole, she’s taken his last name. Cheryl Cole’s spokeswhore tells The Daily Mail that she’s now Cheryl Fernandez-Versini and she’s probably under a tattoo artist’s needle to change the chav-tastic Mrs. C tattoo on her neck. Cheryl truly keeps finding ways to prove that dickmatization is a real thing. Dick so good it’s got a ho changing her last name after three months. Even though I like the name Cheryl Fernandez-Versini since it sounds like the name of the least popular afternoon local news anchor in the Miami area or like the name of the worst character in a Jackie Collins novel, Cheryl needs to stop with this shit. Is she really going to change her name every time she marries a new dude? Bitch is going to have more last names than the Duchess of Alba by the time she’s 40. Cheryl should just legally change her name to [Insert My Latest Husband’s Last Name Here]. It’s simpler and involves less paperwork.
And now onto that other British rose petal who is known for making only the best decisions…
Katie Price was on Fubar Radio and in between talking about how assholes are like vaginas in disguise and how one of her ex-husbands (see: Alex Reid) loves screwing “lady boys,” she said that she’s thinking about taking her cheating whore of a husband Kieran Hayler’s last name. This is a wonderful decision since Katie is supposedly going to divorce Keiran for passing his peen to her best friend.
“I’d love to have the surname but obviously for work it’s Price. Yes, I would do it, with Kieran he’d have to prove himself first before I actually have the name. I’m quite old fashioned, I just want to be in love, have that fairytale, be that perfect wife, have their name, still have your own career because I think that’s important that you’re not in and out of each other’s pockets and stuff.”
Yes, Katie Price is just an old-fashioned kind of girl who probably leaked her that video of her getting toe fucked and most likely staged this whole cheating SCANDAL for maximum attention and is now trying to shamelessly steal the name changing spotlight from Jessica Johnson and Cheryl Tweedy Cole Fernandez-Versini! And if she thinks it’s important that she and her husband not always be in each other’s pockets, why is she pissed that he gotten into somebody else’s pocket?
Here’s Katie Price Andre Reid Hayler arriving and leaving Fubar Radio with Princess YTuMamaTambien.
Oh sweet succulent schadenfreude in the making, is there anything more beautiful than bearing witness to such an obvious future mistake? Don’t get me wrong, a tattoo on your chin is a present-day mistake, but it’s the use of the word “forever” than has me positively beaming. Wait, is that a tattoo of Florida between his eyebrows? Dear Louvre, throw Mona Lisa into the trash and hang this in its place.
Rick Ross, the husky rapper with permanent sleepy puppy face, posted a picture of his most recent tattoo to Instagram as a way to prove to the world he’s never heard the Alanis Morissette song “Ironic” or seen Johnny Depp’s messy Wino Forever tattoo. Yes, Rick Ross gave his bank account the kiss of death by tattooing the words “Rich Forever” on his chin. Unless he meant ‘rich’ in the way you describe a cheesecake, in which case, I’m with you Rick Ross. Delicious rich foods forever.
Now, I’m no Miss Cleo (I wish) but I do know that if we jump ahead to the year 2034, there’s like a 99.9999% chance Rick Ross will no longer be rich. Why? Because Coolio, that’s why. And also, as Emily Blunt proved yesterday, everything comes back to bite you in the ass. Rick Ross might as well go ahead and legally change his name to Rick Ross Dress For Less, because I see being a broke bitch in his future.