In the event you’re thinking “Who is this salt and pepper poppa working the hood of that car like an aspiring auto show slut?“, it’s the former host of the long-running BBC2 car show Top Gear, Jeremy Clarkson. Former, because earlier today he was fired for going HAM and assaulting another Top Gear staffer named Oisin Tymon with his fists.
It all happened during a Top Gear shoot in North Yorkshire a little over two weeks ago. Jeremy Clarkson had apparently been hissing insults at Oisin Tymon all day, and eventually his mouth got tired, so his fists took over. Jeremy started raging out on Oisin until he was pulled off of him 30 seconds later. Witnesses say Oisin didn’t fight back, and when it was all over, he took himself to the emergency room.
Once the BBC found out about this mess, they put his ass on ice for 16 days. Despite 1 million signatures on a petition begging the BBC to bring him back, The Guardian says they chose to force Jeremy into early retirement. Luckily, there are two other Top Gear hosts (Richard Hammond and James May), so they don’t have to shut it down for good.
Jeremy hasn’t said much about this mess, but his Twitter bio currently reads: “I used to be a presenter on the BBC2 motoring show, Top Gear“, so that pretty much says it all.
Obviously this situation is 8 layers of WTF, but the question I really want answered is how the hell does a middle-aged dad type get that pissed off while surrounded by cars? Dads LOVE cars! I’ve been to a couple of car shows, and that shit is like Xanax for middle-aged dads.
Here’s more of Jeremy Clarkson leaving his house yesterday before he got the news he’d been “sacked”, as Marry Poppins would say:
To the surprise of absolutely nobody, E! has realized that nobody really wants to watch Giuliana Rancic suck the life out of the room while Brad Goreski nervously giggles for 30 minutes. Fashion Police was supposed to come back later this month and after Kathy Griffin quit that bitch, Melissa Rivers was going to temporarily take her place, but that’s not going to happen anymore. E! announced tonight that Fashion Police is going on hiatus and will spend the next few months getting nipped, tucked, pulled, waxed, shaved and Botoxed. They’re going to revamp the show and find new asses to sit in the chairs that Kathy and Kelly Osbourne left empty. If Brad doesn’t also jump ship and find another gig, he’ll be back. Ghouliana will also be back, because she probably has some shit on Ryan Seacrest so E! will never let her go.
E! spit out this statement:
E!’s comedy series Fashion Police is going on hiatus and will return in September. We look forward to taking this opportunity to refresh the show before the next awards season. Our talented co-hosts Giuliana Rancic and Brad Goreski, along with Executive Producer Melissa Rivers, will continue their roles as we evolve the show into its next chapter for the legions of Fashion Police fans around the world.
Now that Fashion Police is going away for a while and has left a blank space in E!’s schedule, they can finally do what’s right and bring back their greatest piece of work. I’m talking about the artistic masterpiece that was Sunset Tan (aka the shit show that maybe 2 of you remember).
Jeff Bozz (the spawn of an overgrown Oompa Loompa and a bottle of Affliction butt spray on the left) and his electrocuted porcupine hair will save the day!
My vote for Kelly’s replacement is Giggy Vanderpump! But Kathy, Giuliana and Brad would never agree to that, because Giggy would take all the attention away from their asses, obviously.
After all the smoke and fuckery cleared from that Zendaya mess, I kind of thought if anybody was going to make their way out of the Fashion Police exit door, it would be Ghouliana Rancid. But TMZ says that Kelly Osbourne has made good on her threat to quit the show.
After Zendaya slapped at Giuliana for joking about how her dreads must smell like patchouli and weed, Kelly Osbourne squeezed herself right into the middle by going on an ALL-CAPS rant on Twitter where she threatened to quit Fashion Police over what was said. When Giuliana released another apology, Kelly calmed down on the CAPS and tweeted this: “It takes a strong women to apologize & makes a forgiving women even stronger!” But TMZ says that even though Giuliana apologized and Zendaya accepted her apology, Kelly bolted anyway.
Apparently, the producers started having problems with Kelly as soon as the first episode without Joan Rivers taped. Kelly didn’t like the way the show was being produced and the producers were over her. Kelly quit today. E! queefed up this statement of words about Kelly’s exit:
“Kelly Osbourne is departing E!s Fashion Police to pursue other opportunities, and we would like to thank her for her many contributions to the series over the past five years, during which time the show became a hit with viewers. Fashion Police will return, as scheduled, on Friday, March 30th at 9:00 p.m. and no decisions have been made on her replacement.”
“Other opportunities.” Oh shit, she’s totally going to replace Jon Stewart on The Daily Show. Or maybe she’s replacing Brian Williams.
E! is really pulling our dicks with that “no decisions have been made on her replacement” shit. We all know who Kelly’s replacement is going to be. E! better up Fashion Police’s budget, because they’re going to need a few animal trainers on set since Khloe Kardashian is obviously going to replace Kelly. E! should just fire everyone on Fashion Police, change the name to Kardashian Police and have that show be nothing but Kim, Khloe and Kourtney jacking off to their red carpet photos of the week. That’s what Fashion Police is eventually going to become.
And Giuliana better hide… Because if Ozzy Osbourne comes to the set to defend his daughter, who knows what he’ll do when he sees Giuliana’s bird-looking ass. We all know what Ozzy did to that dove…
“BYE BITCH!” hissed Azealia Banks, Steve Madden, Papa John’s, and literally everyone who has ever read something tweeted by Iggy Azalea and though “trick, are you going for a personal best at being the worst?”
Sad news today for those of you who truly enjoyed reading the 140-character brain farts of a come-to-life Rappin’ Rockin’ Barbie doll (crickets). Last week, some pictures hit the internet of Iggy Azalea on vacation in Hawaii with her boyfriend Nick Young, and yes, a lot of them were of her double-stuffed deep fried Bloomin’ Onion ass in a bikini. Of course, some people then took their thoughts of her busted butt to social media. When Igloo got back from vacation, she made the mistake of reading them, which made Iggy be like “First things first, I’m the saddest.”
So in response to the random internet haters who hurt her feelings, Iggy Azalea decided to quit social media last night. And in true Iggy Azalea fashion, she announced it by going on a long-ass Twitter rant:
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.”