And in “What Is Lindsay Lohan Causing Possible Damage To Now” news. London’s current problem Lindsay Lohan is currently unemployed (unless you count juggling lawsuits as a job, in which case bitch is working overtime), which means she has a lot more time to take pictures of herself apropos of nothing. So on Saturday she Tweeted a picture of herself looking like a down-on-her-luck Carmen Sandiego two days before the rent is due with the caption: “Break the Internet with clothes on
I’m not sure Lindsay knows how the internet works, because if every picture of a nearly-topless tramp in 10lbs of fake hair could break the internet, Instagram would have already shattered the internet worse than Mama June’s knee cartilage. Or maybe this is just one of the Apricot Ashtray’s classic grifts. First she claims the internet was broken when she got it, then demands she receive a new internet plus a full refund of her money and a handful of coupons. I used to work retail, I know how damaged goods scams work.
Speaking of damaged goods, she also took a picture of her hanging out with the President of the Diskount Hooker Warehouse Kris Jenner and the Kardashian family’s official spackle applicator Joyce Bonelli:
That sound you just heard was the internet cracking under the weight of PMKs thirsty fame whore game.
Whenever I think of people who wear sunglasses indoors, I think of two things: douchebags who love attention and Jack Nicholson at the Oscars. But since the sedated horny badger wasn’t there last night, someone had to take his place as The Person Wearing Sunglasses Indoors For No Good Goddamn Reason, and it appears that person was Anna Wintour. I don’t know what’s more confusing: that Anna Wintour is wearing a pair of gas station sunglasses indoors, or that she was invited to the Oscars. Even Harvey Weinstein is like “So, you feel cold…are you related to the statue or something?”
When the camera panned into the audience and I saw Anna Wintour sitting there looking like the unsalted soda cracker version of Cookie Lyon, all I could think of was just how distracting she must have been for everyone on stage looking down at her; she looks like the Upper West Side old money aunt of Cyclops from The X-Men. I have no idea why she’s wearing sunglasses indoors like she is, but I’m just going to assume it has something to do with not drawing suspicion when a young type would walk on stage and her eyes would get all firey red and excited from the sight of young blood.
And because up is down and nothing makes any sense with that woman, here she is posing for pictures with her daughter Bee Shaffer outside before the show without her sunglasses:
Kanye West Did Some Kind Of Kanye West-y Post-Modern Art Performance On The SNL 40th Anniversary Show
And shockingly, for the first time this week, North West wasn’t sitting in the front row and screaming through the whole thing. During last night’s Saturday Night Live 40th anniversary show that I’m still pissed off included zero appearances by the greatest SNL character ever, Toonces, but whatever, music’s version of Shia LaBeouf Kanye West opened his performance in the most Kanye way possible: by lying on the floor in some kind of white light box while looking like Blade’s fancy fashion brother in a pair of colored contacts and a gold grill in his mouth.
Kanye, or “Candy West” if you’re Christopher Walken, performed “Jesus Walks” (which I am surprised that egotistical trick hasn’t changed to “Yeezus Walks” by now), “Only One”, and “Wolves”, which he was joined on the floor by rapper Vic Mensa and Sia, who were also dressed like Derelicte by Kanye West by Mugatu. The whole thing was a mess; it was like a 1st year college performance art piece in association with an expired bottle of NyQuil and the NYC sanitation department. Somewhere in a cocktail lounge in Atlantic City and a cocktail lounge up in Heaven, The Sweeney Sisters are like “We got bumped for this? RUDE.”
And as if that wasn’t enough attention, he also got a shout out by his former partner in Hurricane Katrina awkwardness Mike Myers and the surprisingly still hot Dana Carvey during a Wayne’s World sketch. Live, from New York, it’s Kanye West! ….and some other people. And if you really want a side of the dry heaves with your morning coffee, I’ve included two up-close pictures of Kanye and his come-to-life Real Doll Kim Kardashian wearing those busted mall contact lenses after the cut.
Actually, scratch that – Chelsea Handler’s tits are almost always out, and she’s almost always riding something while they’re out, so it’s technically not that random. Random would be if she were giving that camel a piggy-back ride with her shirt on. Don’t worry, she could handle the weight of a camel; she has that super-human alkie strength.
Drunk Uncle’s ex-wife is currently in Jerusalem for some kind of spiritual vacation (that or she heard of a place where she can buy Manischewitz in 55 gallon drums), and yesterday it looks like she went for a topless camel ride. You know, as one does. Chelsea posted the picture of her riding a truly depressed-looking camel with a pair of Jewish titty stickers to Instagram with the caption:
“A Muslim allowed a topless Jew to sit on his camel. And we say we can’t live side by side? I say we try and we can and we will. And, You don’t even have to be topless. L’chaim“
Yes, Chelsea Handler will unite the Middle East with her Titties of Togetherness. Mostly because shortly after she posted this picture, both Muslims and Jews (and Christians and Atheists and Pastafarians and Scientologists) all agreed that bitch needs to put her shirt back on.
And you know that somewhere under a pile of dirty thongs and rolling papers, Miley Cyrus is looking at this picture and having an Ebenezer Scrooge moment. “Oh shit y’all, it’s the ghost of mah future!”
In case you didn’t get everything you wanted this holiday season, here’s a tasteful black and white portrait of a Henry Spencer-looking Miley Cyrus flashing her backwoods nipple bitz. It’s my gift to you; don’t say I never get you nothin’ nice.
But why is Miley topless this time? Well, a quick peek at her Instagram shows that it looks like she just discovered the Free The Nipple movement. I know – brace yourself, many more pictures of Miley’s nipples are coming. Miley posted the above picture yesterday, but it appears that it was yanked down by the pearl-clutching prudes of Instagram. That, or Miley yanked it down herself because she realized it was far too classy lookin’. After all – is it really a topless picture of a horny swamp otter if her tongue isn’t hanging out or her ass isn’t rubbing against a giant inflatable cartoon penis?
Because some of you may still have a sensitive stomach from running a 3-day train on several meat and cheese trays over the holidays, I’ve hidden Miley’s uncensored nipple pic after the cut.
Cue the Welcome Back, Kotter theme! For the past several months, there has been a noticeable lack of blatant PDA courtside at Lakers games, and it was all because the king and queen of the Kiss Cam, Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher, took a bit of a hiatus to have a baby. Baby Wyatt was born back in October, and I’m sure they would have loved to have gone to their second home (the Staples Center) at least once in the past couple months, but we all know those two don’t have a nanny who could watch their baby, so there’s no way they could have left the house. But last night, by some divine miracle, Jackie and Kelso managed to find a babysitter (Wilmer Valderrama, who had nothing better to do and could use the cash) and took in their first Lakers game since becoming parents.
And of course, their first order of business was to get their public smooch on, because it’s not a Lakers game unless Jackie and Kelso start sucking face. They also were sort of dressed alike from the waist-down, which I’m not feeling, because adults that dress like twinsies always give me the creeps. And for those of you looking at Ashton wearing a trucker hat and starting to panic, don’t worry – I just checked today’s date, and we didn’t actually go back in time to 2003.
Here’s more of Jackie and Kelso and Jackie’s boobs looking like acome-to-life Abercrombie ad at the Lakers game last night:
Joaquin Phoenix Announced He Was Getting Married To His Yoga Instructor Last Night, Confirms This Morning That It Was A Joke
That might be the most Joaquin Phoenix-y sentence I have ever written. Last night, Joaquin Phoenix – the greasy bag of human crazy that I so would – announced during an appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman that he was engaged to his yoga instructor. The last time we checked in on Qui Qui’s love life, he was dating a 19-year-old DJ named Allie Teilz. But I guess he got tired of constantly explaining to her what Seinfeld was or something, because Joaquin confessed that he had met the “the one” and it was the woman teaching him how to do a move called “harnessing the hog” (funny, that’s the same term the Mad Men costume department uses when talking about fitting Jon Hamm for pants):
“First we do these breathing exercises and I go, ‘I can do this’…and then she says we are going to get in the first position — the “harnessing of the hog’. Before I can say, ‘Who is the hog?’ She grabs me — and it’s a compromising and vulnerable position — and she gets a strap [around me] and she’s thrusting [against] me and I go, ‘Oh, no! My back pain!’ And she goes, ‘No, that’s your emotional back pain’. This is the crazy part of the story – we started dating, and I think she’s the one. I proposed to her and she said yes.”
Awwww, so sweet! Except for the fact that Qui Qui’s story was total bullshit. Joaquin appeared on GMA this morning and admitted that he made the whole thing up because his life is boring and he wanted the audience at The Late Show to like him. Obviously, this isn’t the first time Qui Qui has fucked with David Letterman; remember when he was still doing that performance art piece about looking like a matted crotch scab on drain cleaner?
So he’s not engaged. That’s actually a real bummer, because I was really looking forward to Joaquin’s messy interpretation of a wedding. I just pictured Joaquin and his yoga instructor girlfriend riding down the back alley of a secret hipster baron the back of dude dressed like a cockroach while a punk band made up of 89-year-old grandmothers scream a backwards version of Ave Maria.
And here’s Qui Qui before and after he faked an engagement for attention last night on The Late Show:
The world’s most famous “Cool Mom” Madonna recently sat down for an interview with drowsy-looking magician David Blaine (because I guess even the word random feels the needs to reinvent itself sometimes) for Interview Magazine, as well as a tits-out photo shoot, because it’s Madonna, and if she doesn’t take a couple pictures with her tits out, did the interview even really happen? Exactly. Also, the interview was as boring as watching paint dry at Blake Lively’s house, so they needed something to keep people from falling into a coma, and what better way than 16 heavily Photoshopped half-naked pictures of Madonna?
Although I’m not entirely sure the above person is Madonna; it actually looks more like a fan drawing of Detox from RuPaul’s Drag Race. It also looks like what you’d get if Kim Kardashian put on one of Jessica Lange’s Elsa Mars wigs from American Horror Story and a pair of blue contact lenses. Then again, Madonna is pretty much 97% Gaussian blur in Photoshop now, so saying “This looks nothing like Madonna” is like a riddle wrapped in a conundrum dipped in existentialism.
Regardless, I am having a real hard time trying to figure out what’s going on with her boob situation. Why did they decide to Photoshop her cleavage to look like a science class textbook picture of cell division? Those aren’t boobs! That’s one boob that decided to split into two.
Here’s the rest of Madonna’s Interview photo shoot, including one NSFW nipple shot (“Outta my way!” cried no one) and a couple where she looks like Hannibal Lecter trying to disguise himself as a horny attention-starved cougar:
The last time we checked in on Lady Gaga, she was pledging her allegiance to her fans, the Little Monsters, by getting the severed hand of a witch suffering from a chronic case of eczema tattooed on her left shoulder. Because nothing says “I love you guys” like a rash-covered claw, right? Anyways, last night she decided to prove her love to the Little Monsters once again and got the words “Mother Monster” with some paisley swirls tattooed just below her armpit. Move over, rashy claw – you’re old news! Go join the 36 other tattoos floating randomly around Gaga’s body.
Just like last time, Gaga made sure to Instagram 4 million pictures of the whole thing, including a video featuring an extreme close-up of her stubble-covered armpit. I know armpits are normal and everybody has them, but good lord, are they ever gross when you get in that close. Seeing Gaga’s reminded me of the first time I tried to wax my own sub-basement and – you know what? I’m stopping there. Gaga’s armpit is already too much, I don’t need you dry heaving over my parts too.
And it’s great that Gaga got another tattoo for her fans, but did she really have to specify that she’s the Mother Monster? That would be like if Jimmy Buffett got a tattoo that said “Papa Parrothead“. The Parrotheads know who their leader is! I would assume the Little Monsters are the same.
Here’s Lady Gaga showing off her new armpit tattoo in some kind of Lisa Frank drug fart onesie while taking her dog for a walk in Manchester today, and then changing into something equally weird and adding a helmet:
The first time we saw horny human joint Miley Cyrus and Patrick Schwarzenegger, they were leaving Patrick’s apartment the morning after what many assumed was a night filled with Miley twerking her mudflaps against Patrick’s crotch and asking if he’d want to see her “sex mouse”. And now it looks like they’ve upgraded their relationship from We Might Be Fucking to Oh Yeah, We Fucking. Congrats, you two crazy kids!
Miley and Patrick decided to take their love public last night at a USC Trojans football game by taking selfies of themselves slobbering all over each other, and luckily a pap was there to catch the whole thing. That’s so great, because how many times have you tried to take a picture of you pretending to make out with your current fuck partner and thought “I really wish I had a picture of this from several different angles”? All the time, right? Not to mention that a college football game is the perfect place to announce to the world that you’re officially fucking, since there’s no more hallowed ground for horny crotch-bumping youngins than the jizz-sprayed bleachers of a football field.
And in case you’re wondering why a GED recipient from Billy Bob’s Backwoods Book Learnin’ Academy is wearing head-to-toe USC colors, it’s because Patrick went there. Then again, Miley could just be wearing it because she likes Trojans. “I also like LifeStyles and Durex and the ones which you gets from the gas station vending machines that taste like strawberry! Thems mah favorite!”