Diddy and Cassie began bumping fuck parts in 2007 after he signed her to his record label. Over a decade, Diddy and Cassie pretty much kept their love on the down-low (But is it keeping it on the down-low when nobody really cares in the first place? That is the question), and they broke up several times. There’s also been rumors of him passing his wandering peen to side tricks and stories about them getting messy. And now Cassie’s rep tells LoveBScott that the Dollar General version of Beyonce and Jay-Z are no more. People also confirms it. And because Diddy will topple and won’t be able to walk into an event unless he has a full-time human trophy at his side and he’s no longer got Cassie as his go-to accessory, he’s already got a new piece. That burning rubber sound you just heard is Drake skidding while sliding into Cassie’s DMs real fast.
GQ’s cover man of the month is Love. How’s that you say? Is it like when Time’s person of the year was “You”? No, it’s not like that at all. Love is Diddy. Sean Combs. Puff Daddy. P Diddy. Diddy Diddy Oxen Free. Diddy Though? She Already Diddy Done Had Hers. Look, I did a lot of Diddy name jokes the last time and the time before that so cut me some slack.
Even though he pulled a Ben Affleck and told us a lie to save face, it’s Love now. End of story. Love is on the cover of GQ and he told them about a rough patch he went through that drove him to wander the desert like Caine to deal with his cell phone addiction.
Forbes released their list of the five richest artists in hip-hop. Imaginatively titled “The Forbes Five,” we’re told that Hammer, Vanilla Ice, and Brian Austin Green have all the money in (and pretty much out of) hip-hop. I kid. It’s Dre, Diddy, Drake and Marshall Mathers. But the guy with ALL the riches in the world (meaning he’s married to universal majestrix messiah empress Beyonce) is Jay-Z. Mr. Shawn Carter has ALL the money. You could probably tell by his bar tab.
When you’re a question mark’s favorite pop singer and people regularly mistake you for the wall, you have to pull some shit to make people pay attention to you. Like dress yourself up as a Miss Kitty from the future who just got jumped by a gang of silkie chickens.
Clive Davis threw his annual pre-Grammy party in NYC last night, and many of the guests decided to save their better dresses for tonight’s Grammys (although, they should really just wear pajamas with an attached pillow and duvet cover, because that shit is going to be three and a half fucking hours long). Because most of them wore boring dresses bought off the rack at Macy’s (Taryn Manning’s impact!), but not Rita Ora.
Rita Ora threw feathers, fringe, bows, rhinestone and whatever else that was on sale at Michael’s onto her body. Rita looks like she just came from auditioning for the Thandie Newton role in a no-budget unauthorized Public Access reboot of Westworld that takes place way off in the future and will eventually get shut down after HBO sues. Rita is also dressed like a look-for-less Kartrashian, which is saying a lot since the Kartrashians dress like look-for-less Kartrashians.
And here’s a million more pictures from Clive Davis’ party, including Kathie Lee Gifford (who I hope wins, via write-in vote, the Best Song Grammy tonight for He Saw Jesus) and Martha Stewart, whose dogs are probably nervous that she’s going to skin and wear their asses next.
Well, thanks a fucking lot, Diddy. Now I have to write a retraction. You guys, Brother Love was only playing. According to Page Six, Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, P. Diddy and Just Plain Old Diddy are still the names of that guy from yesterday who said his name was Brother Love. Jesus Christ, this man is exhausting.
Answer: Diddy gives a fuck, like a lot of fucks.
red beige and blue carpet posing portion of last night’s Met Gala, Diddy worked the cameras with his on-and-off-and-on-and-off-and-on-again piece Cassie, and at one point he lounged on the steps like a man casually lounging on a display at Forever 21 while his girlfriend gets in a long line to try on a pair of jeans. That little smooth move brought out a dozen “Diddy Don’t Give A Fuck” headlines. Au contraire, bitch. Diddy does give a fuck and that shameless spotlight-shifting whore knew what he was doing.
Cassie stood there in a field of humongous ass sea urchins, working for those camera clicks, as Diddly easily got the cameras to move his way by casually strolling to the stairs for a little lounging time. Cassie’s dress is covered with giant plastic caterpillars (or are those giant Groucho Marx brows?) and Diddy gets all the attention by simply lounging like an evil vampire lounging on a velvet settee while eyeing his prey from across the room. Diddy wants us to think he’s saying, “Oh, this moment is all about her,” but we all know he’s saying, “Oh, this moment is all about moi.”
With that being said, I’d probably do the same thing, because standing is hard. And also, that dramatic lying down pose really does show off Diddy’s “Steven Seagal spending a casual afternoon at home” outfit.
And now we end our never-ending Mess Gala 2017 coverage with several dollops of hotness provided by the dudes of the night including ASkars, Riz Ahmed, Rami Malek and Luke Evans.
Pics: Wenn.com, Getty