If you live in New Jersey and you woke up this morning feeling a little less tacky opulence in the air, it’s because Real Housewife of New Jersey and Con Artist Queen Teresa Giudice has finally checked into a prison in Connecticut. Dining room tables everywhere just let out a huge sigh of relief, for they know they shall no longer live in a constant state of fear.
Teresa’s attorney (aka one of the people she blames for getting sent to the pokey in the first place) confirmed to WNBC 4 New York that Teresa turned herself in to police around 3am this morning to serve the 15-month prison sentence she got for helping her husband, Donkey Kong, with his busted bankruptcy fraud game.
As expected, Teresa will be serving her sentence at the Orange Is The New Black prison, the Federal Corrections Institute in Danbury, CT. So if there actually is a Red who runs the kitchen, watch out, because you’re about 3 seconds away from hearing the phrase “I’m a three-time published cookbook author, so if you need any help jazzing up those bologna sandwiches…”
Even though Teresa is scheduled to be on the inside for 15 months, one of her laywers tells the NY Post that he expects she’ll be out sometime before next Christmas, and that her last words before she entered prison were “I’ll be fine.” Hmmm…sounds like that clever grifter has a trick up her sleeve. If I know my Teresa (and I don’t, because I’m more of a RHOA girl), I bet she’s going to work the prison bitch angle. Teresa will be everybody’s best cell block friend. She’ll teach them how to make their toilet wine taste like Fabellini (not hard), make them exquisitely tacky jewelery out of gum wrappers and glitter glue-covered tampons, and keep them warm at night by knitting throw blankets out of her extra hair. Before you know it, she’ll be released early for good behavior, but not before she steals all their bank account information and forwards it to Juicy Joe. I see you, Teresa.
The sentencing hearing for Juicy Joe and Teresa Giudice from The Real Housewives of New Jersey started at around 7am PST on Thursday, October 2, 2014 and if you’re a mess like me, you’ve been following it ever since. I don’t even know what day it is anymore. The judge dragged it out like she was getting paid by the hour. I’m pretty sure Juicy Joe and Teresa served their sentence in that court room, because three years have gone by. Happy Birthday x 3 to us all!
Well, the Space Farm Zoo in Sussex better free up some cages, because here comes Juicy Joe and Teresa. Juicy Joe will soon shove his juicy man tits into an orange jumpsuit, because a judge in Newark, NJ sentenced him to 41 months in the clink and 2 years probation for pleading guilty to wire and bankruptcy fraud. The judge also ordered him to pay $414,588.90 in restitution and Juicy Joe has to complete a booze treatment program while in the chokey. Teresa Giudice got 15 months in prison. One of them has 30 to 40 days to turn themselves in. The judge will allow them to serve staggered sentences so one of them can be at home with their 4 daughters.
No, you’re not looking at a picture of the Jenner ghouls celebrating after another successful contract negotiation at Lucifer’s office in Hell (because everybody knows those tricks can’t take a picture without Pimp Mama Kris popping out of nowhere to photobomb it with her busted earthworm nose). It’s actually Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez during happier times before Demi decided to pull a Jewel and “tenderly undo” their friendship.
Hollywood Life says that on Wednesday, the love child of Shreeky and Beastly from Care Bears declared her friendship with Selena Gomez was officially as dead as the fried ends of her weave by unfollowing her on Twitter and confirming that, no bitch, it wasn’t a mistake, by posting this picture immediately afterwards:
Shortly after tweeting her passive-aggressive air kiss to Selena, she must have looked at the date on her driver’s license and realized she’s actually a 21-year-old woman and not a bitchy 7th grader, and she deleted that shit. But she still isn’t following Selena on Twitter, so you know that angry ho still means business! Meanwhile, Selena hasn’t noticed any of Demi’s shade, because she’s too busy making sure the little boy she’s babysitting hasn’t cut his Kool Aid Jammers with cough syrup.
I don’t want to sound like a Metamucil-guzzling oldie, but back in the day you handled your shit like a grown-ass woman. You didn’t snatch a wig on Twitter or Instagram; you snatched it in real life, in a crowded parking lot, while trying not to spill your Big Gulp. And that’s IF you have to resort to wig-snatching; the most successful bitch fight I’ve ever seen was between two stone-cold cunts who just sat there staring at each other. No words, just eyelids getting squintier and squintier until you got the message that these bitches were DONE!
Adam Silver, the commissioner of the NBA, announced in a press conference today that they have stamped the words “BANNED 4 LIFE” on the forehead of racist pile of burnt ass lips Donald Sterling after his side piece leaked audio of him saying that he doesn’t want her bringing black people including Magic Johnson to Clippers games and other racist crap. I know Donald Sterling is a dried cow turd sitting on top of a pile of wet trash, but the NBA is cold. How could they ban a racist when he’s 9 months pregnant?! Actually, judging by that pic, he’s also pregnant with half of the concession stand and a whole lot of bullshit. Racism sure is fattening.
Adam said that during the NBA’s investigation of the audio, Donald Sterling admitted that it was his voice and he said all that shit. Adam said that Donald’s words were deeply offensive and harmful. Donald isn’t allowed at any NBA games or practices and he can’t step foot in any team facilities. He’ll also have to pay a $2.5 million fine (“Oh, let me get that money from the jar of loose change I keep on my kitchen counter” said Donald Sterling), which will go to an anti-discrimination charity. Adam is trying to force Donald Sterling to sell the Clippers, which is worth $575 million, and he needs a three-fourths vote from the Board of Governors to do so and he thinks he’s got the numbers. Adam decided to hit that bitch with a lifetime ban after speaking with players, coaches and owners.
This decision comes after several sponsors dropped the Clippers and the Clippers coach Doc Rivers said that if Donald Sterling stayed on as owner he wouldn’t be back to coach next season. The Clippers spit out this statement after the NBA scrubbed out the racist skid mark from their chonies:
“We wholeheartedly support and embrace the decision by the NBA and Commissioner Adam Silver today. Now the healing process begins.”
Somewhere, Paula Deen and Cliven Bundy are getting their coins together to buy the Clippers.
Meanwhile, Donald Sterling’s side piece V. Stiviano claims that she has hundreds of hours of recorded conversations with her sugar daddy. Apparently, he constantly forgets what he says to her so she has to play conversations back for him so he remembers. Some might call that “excessive,” but I call it gold digger insurance. V. Stiviano also claims that Donald Sterling isn’t her sugar daddy and their relationship is strictly professional. Well, “professional” is one word you can use to describe the relationship you have with an old fart who pays the mortgage on your condo and buys you a BMW every year to sit on his tongue.
Here’s V. Stiviano arriving back at home after going to court yesterday. Chick definitely knows how to dress for court. Court room glamour is looking like a member of Daft Punk as seen through the eyes of Lisa Frank.
I know, God and his son are going to write me up again for posting a picture of that succubus turd out of Luficer’s b-hole on a SUNDAY. But since E! is practically the K! Network, it works.
When Chelsea Handler was on Howard Stern a little while ago, she took a huge, wet messy shit on E!’s face and said it was a “sad, sad place to live” and she’s looking for a new network after 8 years. I sort of shook my head in agreement with her, because it too would give me the sads if I walked into the lunch room of a job and saw Ryan Seacrest licking on Pimp Mama Kris’ ass as a thank you for putting another million dollars in his shady leprechaun pot. Anyway, today, Chelsea’s new manager Irving Azoff tells The Hollywood Reporter that her contract with E! expires at the end of the year and she plans to pack up Chuy and move out of the House of Kardashishit. Irving claims that Chelsea’s got offers from 7 suitors and she’s thinking of doing a radio show or a weekly late-night show on another network. Irv spit this out:
“Chelsea intends to leave when her contract expires. She hired me to figure out her life after E! We have at least seven suitors and many ideas.”
Chelsea apparently makes $9 million a year at E! and an inside source type tells THR that they doubt another network will pay her that much. But Chelsea thinks she’s hot shit right now, because her book Uganda Be Kidding Me (Uganda be kidding me about that fucking title) has been #1 on The New York Times Bestsellers’ list for longer than a week and she’s in the middle of a huge national comedy tour. Chelsea’s show brings in 572,000 eyeballs a night, but her manager claims her fan base is a lot bigger than that.
When the drunk, slutty best friend of every bland A-list bitch in Hollywood (see: Jennifer Aniston, Reese Witherspoon, Kate Hudson, Goopy Paltrow, etc….) talked trash about E! on Howard, I figured she was playing the game hard. I thought it was her way of letting E! know that if they don’t drop a larger mountain of cash into her checking account, she’ll fuck the head of another network to get a new show.
Chelsea gets paid $9 million a damn year to get drunk and talk shit about famous whores (which is my job description sans the “collect $9 million a year” part), so if she’s willing to let go of that gig, then I guess swimming in a pool full of tequila under the hot sun for hours on end with Jennifer Aniston in Mexico fried the part of her brain that makes good decisions. We should all hate Chelsea if Chelsea leaves E!, because if she does, you know who will get her time slot…..
Coming soon to E!: Pimp Mama Kris’ Hour Of Whoring! Watch Pimp Mama Kris spend a full hour rubbing her down low parts while reading stories about her family in the tabloids!
There’s literally nowhere this stuck-up snobby piece of stale PAAAASSS-ta could move without pissing off her neighbors. She could buy a deserted island in the middle of the ocean with no sign of human life for miles and miles, and she’d find a way to piss off the fish. On the upside, business would be booming for Ursula the Sea Witch, because every fish in a 100-mile radius would be banging down her door and begging her: “Forget the contract, just skip to the part where you kill me and turn me into a withered ass pimple.”
Because Gwyneth Paltrow is about as tolerable as an air-cured 100-mile artisinal shit, it’s easy to imagine the smile on her neighbors’s faces when they found out that her and Chris Martin would be selling their home in the Belsize Park area of North London. According to The Daily Star (via The Daily Mail), the neighbors hate them because the minute they moved in, they turned the street into a non-stop episode of Property Brothers (minus hot twins):
One resident told the paper: ‘We have had years of their building works. They have taken down trees so they can park their flash cars in the driveway and they put a huge swimming pool in the back garden.’
Another neighbour said: ‘The trouble is that it will probably be a similar sort that moves in and we’ll have this all over again.’
You can breathe a sigh of relief, Another Neighbor, because I can guarantee that you will never find another human alive who is more annoying or insufferable than Gwyneth Paltrow. That family of giant obnoxious boogers from the Mucinex commercials could move in and it would still be more tolerable than having to listen to non-stop Coldplay and finding your mail box stuffed with soy-ink letterpress pamphlets about hand-woven organic spirituality hammocks or the newest trend in brickwork. “I had all my bricks custom-shaped by the hooves of an endangered breed of Peruvian Llama. You should too, because your house is fugly and I hate it. Xo Your neighbor, Oscar-winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow.”
The hat: “No, I won’t go without you! Stop pushing me off!”
The hair: “Save yourself! It’s your only chance to escape this douchebag!”
It looks like America’s love affair with Justin Bieber might be over (sarcasm deluxe with a side of shade). According to The Guardian (via HuffPo), thousands of Americans have signed a petition uploaded to the White House website by Detroit resident J.A. demanding the Obama administration deport the little ass-cramp back to Canada and throw his green card into the oval office document shredder. Currently, the petition has over 100,000 signatures, which means that there are 100,000 Americans I need to track down and kiss on the mouth, but also that the petition has met the minimum requirement needed for an official White House response. The petition is as follows:
“We the people of the United States feel that we are being wrongly represented in the world of pop culture. We would like to see the dangerous, reckless, destructive, and drug abusing, Justin Bieber deported and his green card revoked. He is not only threatening the safety of our people but he is also a terrible influence on our nations youth. We the people would like to remove Justin Bieber from our society.”
That seems long. I’m sure he could have just submitted the following:
“We the people of the United States can all agree that Justin Bieber is a major dickhead, THE-fucking-END. Please evict his ass the legal way before we take matters into our own hands and pull some War of 1812 shit by firing him out of a cannon back over the border.”
I know that Americans think they can deport him back to Canada, but – BREAKING STORY – Canadians hate him even more and they don’t want him either. We sold his ass to Usher for a pack of American Spirits and a case of Diet Cherry Coke a long time ago, and we consider him your problem now. I think a solution both Canada and America can agree on would be to purchase him a one-way ticket to that island from Pinoccio where all the bad boys hang out and do hood rat stuff till they turn into donkeys (too late, he’s already a huge ass).
Shit is going down with the Katharine McPhee/married former “Smash” director Michael Morris hook up. They were caught exchanging spit in a parking lot, which raised some serious eyebrows since they are both married to other people. Kat MAY get a bit of a pass because she and her husband, producer Nick Cokas (it took me six tries to not type Cockass) have been separated for the better part of this year. I say “may” because there are plenty of people sitting in the court of public opinion who feel that moving on before a divorce is finalized still makes someone a big, fat cheater. Then there’s Mary McCormack, Michael’s wife of ten years, who was apparently not on the list of “who to tell we fuckin’“. A source close to the couple told People:
“Mary adores her husband. If this is true, she would have been blindsided. She is the most devoted mother and wife.”
The Daily Mail said this morning that Mary WAS blindsided but isn’t taking any of this fuckery sitting down and that she threw Michael out of the house Sunday night after he told her the pictures existed and were going public. As if that wasn’t bad enough, that motherfucker also tried to buy the pictures himself to keep them from getting out. If that doesn’t scream “I wasn’t going to be honest unless I had to be“, I don’t know what does. Shady, shady, shady.
Mary and Michael have three young daughters together and Katharine made it clear earlier this year that she is in no rush to start squeezing babies out. When I joked the other day about keeping Kat away from LeAnn’s Twitter feed, I didn’t know that could end up being a self-fullfilling prophecy. I get not wanting kids (hell, I’ve tried to give mine back to the universe more than once but apparently science is an asshole and it doesn’t work that way) but why in the name of all that fucks goats would you start seeing someone who has them?!? Maybe she hasn’t set eyes on them yet- I can totally imagine Michael’s giant melon of doom only Lurch‘s mom could love eclipsing three little girls completely.
Someone get Mary Liberty Ross‘ phone number. I think they have a lot to talk about over coffee.
Around twenty five minutes ago, Leonardo DiCatchAHo was going around with that Victoria’s Secret model whose name I always read as Teri Garr. But I guess Leonardo tossed Teri Garr’s ass in a box and sent her to the Victoria’s Secret Return Center before he ordered a new piece from Elite Model Management in Paris. 24-year-old Kat Torres, who is originally from a small town near Sao Paulo and lives in Paris now, tells the Brazilian newspaper Extra (via Daily Mail) that she met 38-year-old Leo in Cannes and now they’re bumping nipples.
“I met Leo in Cannes. We were staying in the same house at the festival. Leo is amazing, but I worry about what he will think about me talking to you. We have a pact that nothing can ever be said about our relationship. In Europe it is different. People see us together in many places so they do not need to ask us about anything. He doesn’t like being photographed and barely goes out walking once people have realized it’s him.”
There’s one big, glaring thing that doesn’t make sense about this shit:
Bitch ain’t a Victoria’s Secret or Sports Illustrated model. Leo usually only orders from Victoria’s Secret or Sports Illustrated. He doesn’t get into bed unless a VS or SI model is in it. His true soulmate Lukas Haas constantly begs VS and SI to please give him a contract so Leo will finally look at him for real. So this doesn’t really make any sense…. But whatever, we shouldn’t wrap our brain cells around this mess, because as soon as she opened her mouth and said, “I’m dating, Leonardo DiCaprio,” he stamped the word “VOID” on their relationship contract and picked up a VS catalog to order a new piece. Bye, ho.
And here’s some of Kat’s modeling pics. She looks like a fembot who’s equal parts Heidi Montag, Shakira and Ivanka Trump.
The future stars of The Real Grifters of Cell Block C were in court again yesterday to plead not guilty to not filing taxes, scamming a bunch of banks and lying to the bankruptcy court. Juicy Joe and Teresa Giudice should be lubing up all their parts and spreading thick layers of numbing cream on their b-holes, because they’re about to get fucked hard by the feds and it’s not going to be pretty. Not-So-Mighty-Joe-Young and Teresa were indicted on 39 counts and they each face up to 50 years in the clink. Radar says that Teresa is not ready to cover her orange skin with an orange jumpsuit just yet and right before court yesterday, her lawyers threw a plea deal in front of prosecutors.
A source says that in the plea deal, Juicy Joe offered to do prison time as long as Teresa doesn’t have to set one hoof in a prison cell. Teresa told prosecutors that she’ll do anything and everything to keep her ass out of jail. Prosecutors then told Teresa that she won’t have to go to jail if she takes a sip of her own sparkling diarrhea wine called Barfellini. Teresa threw them a look and said that she’ll do anything ANYTHING but that. The prosecutors grabbed the plea deal, wiped their asses with it and threw it in her face. NO DEAL! Radar’s source put it like this:
“Teresa and Joe’s defense team submitted a plea deal on Wednesday but the US Attorney denied it. Teresa wanted a plea deal that keeps her out of jail so she offered to do anything else BUT jail time and have Joe serve all of the time in jail. The prosecutor dismissed the deal outright. The prosecutor has said that if she wants to plead it out she has to do jail time. hey believe that the evidence will show that Teresa can’t play dumb. She was in cahoots with Joe and was just as much a part of orchestrating the scam as he was.”
Teresa should realize that she’s ten different kinds of screwed and needs to focus on picking out the perfect accessories to go with her orange jumpsuit and she needs to figure out how she’s going to make her family lasagna out of saltines, government cheese and mouse meat. She also needs to use whatever is left of her brain to come up with a prison name. I’m thinking Threehead Tre or La Gorilla Head.
But I will give Teresa some credit. She obviously knows that she’s broke, because yesterday she recycled an outfit by wearing the dress she wore to her junior prom in 1988. Kudos for that, Tre! Here’s more of Teresa and her terrifying sumo wrestler hair at a book signing at Posche in Wayne, NJ and at court yesterday morning.