Lindsay Lohan managed to get herself a little attention recently and it looks like she’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. Last month Lindsay did an interview where she sounded like the Lysol lady’s English-speaking half-sister and it made the internet collectively freak out over her accent of questionable origin. Lindsay decided to name her European-ish intonation “Lilohan.” Now she’s trying to cash in on the accent craze by selling branded Lilohan merch and giving the money to charity. The charity is not The Lindsay Lohan’s Wallet Fund.
It’s been two months since the Cuyler family’s long-lost human cousin Miley Cyrus hitched her coochie back up to Liam Hemsworth’s trouser pony. And in the time since, she’s gone harder than a meth head with a handful of Sudafed BOGO coupons to prove that she’s 100% committed to this whole back-with-her-ex thing. She bought the house next door to his. She’s been wearing her old engagement ring. Now a source tells UsWeekly that she’s doing everything in her power to convince him that she’s totally a Stepford Wifey now.
“She has been cooking and cleaning for Liam, waiting on him hand and foot. She wants to make sure she keeps him.”
Though Cyrus’ wild antics drove the pair apart in September 2013, she’s eager to show the Hunger Games star how she’s matured, going as far as ditching her party-loving entourage. “She either doesn’t answer their calls or says she’s not going out. Liam never liked that she got crazy, so Miley’s making big changes. She doesn’t want to screw it up.”
Poor Wayne Coyne. Who will he get random mid-life crisis tattoos with now?
I just pictured a forlorn Miley slowly walking to the end of her driveway with a box of inflatable unicorn dildos, a bag of unopened body slime, and her collection of weed leaf nipple pasties, setting it on the curb, then taking out a pasty and wiping a single tear from her eye. And now I’m sad.
You know, I’m not totally convinced that Miley has reformed her penis-wearing nipple-flashing horny stoner chipmunk ways. I wanna see the receipts. Show me a video of Miley cleaning the kitchen without humping the stove or pouring dirty mop water onto her bare nipples or pretending the handle of a Swiffer Sweeper is a super-long plastic dick. Only then will I believe it.
Do you make terrible decisions with money? Do you have an extra $100 million lying around? Then why not call up Kanye West (1-800-ASSPLAY) with the good news that you’re willing to dump a fuckload of cash into his insanely overpriced hobo ballerina clothing line, Yeezy.
According to Page Six, Kanye has been going door to door asking for $100 million so he can take Yeezy from joke to joke with more exposure. So far, Kanye has hit up the CEO of LVMH (which owns Louis Vuitton, Dior, and Marc Jacobs) and Chris Burch (who launched Tory Burch), both of whom probably responded by cackling “Hard pass!” before slamming the door. Kanye also hired a company called Relativity Fashion last year to help him find investors, but that dream died when they filed for Chapter 11 in July.
I’m sure you’re wondering why he doesn’t just text his wife and ask if she can spare a couple million from her monthly Botox fund. Well, he might have to resort to that sooner than later, considering he’s apparently already sunk a whole lot of his own money into Yeezy. A source says:
“Kanye is spending a lot of money. He thinks on a big scale and is currently paying for everything himself. He needs a backer to help him achieve the kind of fashion-world domination he is aiming for.”
How much money does Kanye need for that shit? His fashion shows take place in an empty warehouse, he gets a 10% family discount on his models from Kris Jenner’s Rent-A-Wreck, and all the clothes look like they were made from old sleeping bags and slightly-irregular pantyhose stolen from a L’Eggs factory outlet store. I’m not good at math, but that’s like, $100.
At least now the audience will understand when Kanye closes the Yeezy fashion show this afternoon with models passing around a donation plate. “Please give to the Church of Yeezus Christ. Every dollar helps.”
The teaser trailer for Tori Spelling’s latest Lifetime paycheck was released yesterday, and it looks like second season of True Tori will be just as shameless and dramatic as the last. For all six of you who watched the first season, it centered around Tori coming to grips with the fact that her useless beady-eyed sex possum of a husband The Deaner cheated on her half-melted margarine-looking ass while filming a reality show in Canada (as one does). And by the looks of this promo for True Tori 2: Still Thirsty, Admiral Ackbar’s long-lost twin sister is pulling out all the stunt queen stops. Tori cries! Tori looks at a picture of the home-wrecking hoser hussy who came between her and The Deaner! Tori cries some more! And then just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, Tori drops True Tori 2’s biggest totally-not-scripted bombshell: SHE MIGHT BE PREGNANT!
SPOILER ALERT: She’s definitely 100% not pregnant, because she would have already sold the piss-soaked pregnancy test and the first ultrasound pic to UsWeekly for $100 if she was. So Tori is “maybe” pregnant in the same way I’m “maybe” going to eat a kale salad for lunch instead of two frozen Pop Tarts.
But what the hell does The Deaner think of all this? What if Tori is telling the truth (she isn’t, but go on) and she really is knocked up with The Deaner’s 5th spermlet? Well what do you know, it appears I was able to obtain a transcript from a message The Deaner left on Candy Spelling’s voice mail:
“Hey Candy, what’s crappenin’ mama? It’s your dirtbag favorite son-in-law, The Deaner. Got some great news! One night a couple weeks ago, The Deaner had one too many Kokanees and accidentally booty called your daughter. One thing lead to another, and it looks like The Deaner gave Tori’s ovaries the ol’ maple glazed special. I might have five mouths to feed soon! Yikes, right? So I guess I’m callin’ cause kids are super ‘spensive these days and I need to borrow some moolah. Like, at least enough for a couple cases of beer. Daddy gots to stay hydrated!”
And if The Deaner really did successfully bust another beady-eyed unemployed nut, can animal control PLEASE set some traps outside Hooters and get the Canadian K-Fed neutered already?
Trust Baba Wawa to tell
previously agreed upon and not at all staged secrets.
On Tuesday’s episode of The View (via HuffPo), Barbara Walters blabbed that Jenny McCarthy begged ABC to let her be on The Bachelorette back in 2005 after she divorced John Asher.
“No one knew that!” McCarthy exclaimed. “When I got a divorce, I was lonely. I needed to be loved.”
Auditioning for a reality show isn’t exactly the most typical reaction to a break up, and McCarthy seems to admit that it was a bit of a snap decision. “I was single and I loved TV. Put those together and I thought, ‘Brilliant!‘”
“I was single and I loved being a famewhore on TV“. There, Jenny. Fixed it for you.
ABC denied her ass even after Jenny had her agent call the network and said they were not using celebrities at that time. Since Jenny is the epitome of class and grace (and the poster child for desperate, needy bitches), ABC really shit the bed on that one. Imagine a season of The Bachelorette filled with farts, queefs, pit sniffing and Jenny humping the legs of all the contestants while holding up her original Playboy spread (NSFW) and saying, “I know you’d fuck me, but would you marry me?”
Jenny packed up it up after the rejection and ran into the arms of Jim Carrey that same year. They were together until 2010 and I’m surprised she didn’t try to pitch herself to the network again after the break up.
“Yeah, ABC? It’s Jenny McCarthy’s agent again. We’d like to give you another opportunity to have Jenny be your next Bachelorette. She just has a few changes she’d like to see happen. Yeah, instead of a rose, she’d like to hand out pamphlets on the dangers of vaccine- hello? HELLO?!?!???”