Today is a good day for me, because I found out that I no longer have to smuggle Cuban cigars from Mexico in my asshole. (Actually, maybe that’s not such a good thing since that’s the only time I really get any action.) But Madge is not having a good day, because today she found out that she leaked all over the Internet.
Madge’s new album, which is supposedly title Unapologetic Bitch, isn’t scheduled to come out until next year, but this morning someone spread the tracks all over the Internet. When one of Madge’s unreleased (and possibly unfinished) songs “Rebel Heart” leaked into ears last month, she screamed some shit about how she had been violated as a human and artist. She Hulk’d out on Instagram. So when a bunch of tracks got dropped on the Internet today, I expected her veins to pop and her skin to turn green before she overturned cars and ripped out electrical lines. At first, Madge kept calm and told her fans that the leaked songs are unfinished demos that were stolen a long time ago and thanked them for not listening to the tracks. But I guess Madge realized that being calm and reasonable isn’t going to get her as much attention as possible, so she later freaked out on Instagram in a Kanye-style rant (sans ALL-CAPS) which she later deleted.
Madge pretty much thinks that Olivia Benson and the FBI need to get involved, because this is an act of rape and terrorism. Every government division needs to stop EVERYTHING they’re doing (examples: investigating real rape and investigating real terrorism) and devote all their time to finding out who leaked old demos that Madge isn’t putting on her album anyway. This is a priority!
Madge’s current boy toy really needs to take a Valium so the next time she sucks his blood, she’ll chill the hell out. This seems to happen to Madge a lot. So either she needs to get a new STUNT QUEEN stunt to keep her name out there or she needs to strap an industrial-strength pair of Depends over her hard drive to stop the leaks.
Shades of Jennifer Lawrence’s mob of crazy fans were painted outside of The Daily Show in NYC last night when autograph seekers and Brangeloonies lost their minds over being close to Dame St. Angie Jolie. It’s like they were Black Friday shoppers and she was a 20% flat-screen TV.
If you really want your ear holes to be stabbed with the sound of paps and Brangeloonies screaming for their idol, click here to see and hear the video. Jesus has postponed his second coming, because he know he won’t ever get a reaction like that and that would be really embarrassing for him. St. Angie’s four bodyguards tried to keep the craziness back, but at one point the craziness got event crazier and one of her fans complained about having a panic attack. TMZ says that St. Angie heard her loyal subject’s cries of panic and commanded her bodyguards to save the woman. Once the disciple in a wolf hat was pulled to safety, St. Angie soothed her nerves, signed an autograph and took a selfie with her. The woman in the wolf hat was later heard telling her friends, “Now I know how Peter felt when Jesus saved him!”
I know most of you shameless hussy whores don’t go to church, but if you do go to church this weekend for some reason and wonder why all the bibles are missing from the pew pockets, there’s a good explanation. Every bible from every church has been removed and will be put back once this story of St. Angie’s tale of saintly selflessness is added to it.
Before St. Angie rescued one of her fans from the pits of crazy, she sat down with Jon Stewart. Jon Stewart, who was in Playing By Heart with her, pretty much revealed himself as the captain of the Manhattan chapter of Brangeloonies by slobbering out words of praise about her and flirting with her hard. Jon ended their interview by saying, “I gotta tell you from the moment I met you, it’s got to be 20 years ago, [I said to myself] ‘This person has talent coming out of all different areas.‘” St. Angie just giggled and batted her eyes at him.
Well, there goes Jon Stewart’s marriage of 14 years. St. Angie can wreck a home just with the bat of an eye. That legendary home wrecker.
You know that somewhere in Hollywood a studio executive is looking at that picture and thinking to themselves, “And there’s our cast for The Bodyguard remake!” And you probably didn’t read that line, because as soon as you stared into the eyes of the soul siphoner in the red Mickey Mouse sweater, her glare knocked your eyeballs out of your face before crawling into your head through your sockets to eat your soul. It’s a weird feeling, but you get used to it. I have that feeling every time I watch Are You The One? on MTV.
Fart aficionado Jennifer Lawrence, did The Late Show with David Letterman last night to promote that Hunger Games shit. Sometimes celebrity types stop to sign autographs and take pictures before and after the show. JLaw didn’t stop beforehand because she was running late. After the show, JLaw walked out to a sea of crazies who lost their minds for her. Those crazy bitches. It’s just Jennifer Lawrence, America’s cooler older cousin who is one of the guys and loves farts and weed. It’s not like it was Richard Simmons making his long-awaited grand return to the spotlight. That crowd acted like cats in heat. Get the Q-Tip and get it together.
When JLaw started signing autographs, her fans, autograph seekers and the paps turned up the crazy and knocked down a barricade. JLaw ran from that scene faster than an ex runs from me when he sees me at Target (yes, this has happened recently and the wound is still raw). The messiness is below (with a bonus appearance from Golden Voice!):
If you open up your ears wide at around the 0:55 mark, you can hear someone scream something like “Fucking cunt!” I guess Goopy Paltrow is in NYC right now.
Or maybe they booed JLaw because they heard her singing.
Here’s JLaw running for her life outside of Letterman and at Good Morning America today with the dudes from Hongray Games.
If I could, I’d make a green bean and French’s onion casserole for all of you Cumberbitches out there as an offer of my condolences, because I know it’s a heartbreaking and sad-filled day for you and your vagina (who is probably wearing a black lace coochie veil right now). As you already know from the loud sound of the Cumberbitches wails mixed in with the sound of the lizard kingdom letting out a million celebratory chirps for their king, Bonnebell Combover is one hundred percent engaged to his girlfriend Sophie Hunter (or as some of the Cumberbitches call her: That Ostrich-Faced Homely Harlot Trollop Whore Who’s Lucky That Benny Needs A Stunt For His Oscar Campaign Ugh I Hate That Bitch Tramp!!!!####121!!!!!).
38-year-old B. Cum and 36-year-old Sophie announced their engagement in the “Forthcoming Marriages” section of the Times and that might seem like some posh Downton Abbey shit, but I expected their engagement to be announced by a messenger reading from a scroll in the middle of town square. Here’s their little announcement (which some Cumberbitches have already written in black mascara tears on their pillows before punching it repeatedly while screaming):
The engagement is announced between Benedict, son of Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch of London, and Sophie, daughter of Katharine Hunter of Edinburgh and Charles Hunter of London.
Benihana Cameraphone and Sophie Hunty, who’s an actress and theater director, met for the first time when she was eating a salad in a garden and he crawled onto her leg to beg her for a piece of wet lettuce. It’s been true love ever since. No, they’ve been friends for years and started having hot alien lizard human sex ever since. This is what Sophie Hunter looks like if you need to put a face to the object of the Cumberbitches’ RAGE!
B. Cums and Sophie Hunty didn’t say when they’re getting married, but I’m sure it’ll be right after molting season so his skin can look extra fresh and shiny. And don’t feel too bad, Cumberbitches. Once the wedding pictures come out, you can paste your face over Sophie Hunty’s face and put the picture next to her voodoo doll on your mantel.
Phoebe Price must’ve spent the night in and didn’t grace the paps’ lenses with her star presence, because they had to settle for taking pictures of the rapping Double Trouble action figure Iggy Azalea buying eggs at a grocery store in L.A.Iggy wasn’t having it.
The YouTube description says that Iggy and her sidekick/assistant/friend were buying eggs and frozen turkeys to stuff her ass with when they caught a paparazzo taking pictures of them. The pap claims that Iggy and her yappy Yorkie of a friend put him in a chokehold and spit on him. Iggy shouldn’t do that shit for free, because I’m sure some sucio freak out there would pay top dollar for an Australian lady rapper with a stress ball ass to choke and spit on them.
When they got to the parking lot, the pap screamed, “Do you have AIDS? Maybe I got Ebola,” because Iggy spit on him. Iggy and her friend, Scrappy Doo, screamed back at the pap and told him that they hope he has Ebola and dies. Basically, Iggy and the pap blew sweet words of love at each other.
The equally-as-crazy pap screamed at Iggy to go live in Nebraska if she doesn’t want to deal with paps. That’s my new go to response for ho’s who complain about living in L.A. “Ugh, do you know how long it took me to get from Sunset to Wilshire?” Bitch, go live in Nebraska! “Ugh, can you believe that Trader Joe’s was all out of peppermint bark?” Bitch, go live in Nebraska!
Iggy and her shrieking hyena of a friend went after the pap some more before disappearing into the night. Iggy later threw up some shit on Instagram about how she’s the Britney Spears of 2014.
You know, Iggy could’ve easily made that pap scat. She should’ve put on her “rap accent” and screamed at him, “AH’M DA RILLEST! AH’M DA BADDESS BITCH!” He would’ve dropped his camera and ran for his mommy, because Iggy is that hard.
Here’s Iggy looking like a Cirque du Soleil reject at the ACL Music Festival in Austin on Saturday.
Seen above looking frazzled, worn out and tired after spending 10 long minutes telling the weekday morning chef how to properly make a quinoa, flaxseed and cloudberry breakfast tart for Apple and Moses (the plight of a working mother), Goopy Paltrow hosted a Democratic National Committee Fundraiser in the backyard of the Haus of GOOP in Brentwood last night. When she wasn’t GOOPing in her $900 French silk chonies over President Obama, she continued to be the Norma Rae of our time by fighting for the working class!
Buzzfeed says that 250 guests, including Julia Roberts and Bradley Whitford, paid anywhere from $1,000 to $32,400 to watch President Obama speak. Actually, I don’t think anybody “watched” him speak since their eyeballs rolled onto their freshly baked wood-burned pizzalets when Goopy Paltrow mouth farted out her usual shit while introducing him. Ever since Goopy got an ocean full of diarrhea dropped on her for saying that she, a famous millionaire, has it so much harder than regular 9 to 5 working moms, she’s been pedaling hard on the damage control cycle. While introducing Obama last night, Goopy pulled a Goopy. via the NYDN
“Paltrow cited sustainable energy efforts as well as Obama’s push for equal pay, which she called ‘Very important to me as a working mother.’”
Bitch always has to find a way to GOOP it up. She was fine until she threw in “as a working mother.” Goopy really knows the trials and tribulations of your average working mother. I mean, Goopy has to shoot one whole film a year to pay all the au pairs, chefs, chauffeurs, tutors, nutritionists, acupuncturists and butlers who take care of her two children. The other day, Goopy had to tell her contractor to do the pool in Capri in Carrara marble instead of crushed diamond tiles because she has to cut the budget. Goopy is barely making ends meet! Do something about this, Obama!
Goopy then gushed from every orifice as she flirted with Obama. Buzzfeed says these words came out of her mouth:
- “I am one of your biggest fans, if not the biggest.”
- “It would be wonderful if we were able to give this man all of the power that he needs to pass the things that he needs to pass.”
- “You’re so handsome that I can’t speak properly.”
Um, but does she ever speak properly? Since the sight of Obama makes Goopy almost speechless, we now know that the quickest way to get her to shut the fuck up is to show her a picture of Obama.
The audience at Mimi’s “The Elusive Chanteuse Show“in Tokyo, Japan on Saturday night was filled with cringing lambs, because instead of yodeling out high-pitched, glitter-covered musical notes of perfection, the Unicornie Rainbow Butterfly Empress nearly busted out of her cocoon of Spanx as she struggled to sing. I haven’t been this embarrassed by someone trying to hit high notes since my friend sent me a blurry, grainy cell phone video of me destroying the shit out of Radiohead’s “Creep” while drunkenly playing Rock Band.
As UsWeekly points out, yesterday clips of the Elusive Chanteuse struggling through several of her songs made the rounds. Mimi couldn’t hit some notes, forgot lyrics and her voice cracked a few times. She basically sounded like JLo when JLo sings live. Some of her fans defended her by saying that since her marriage to Nick Cannon is now a butchered carcass, the sads/booze are squeezing her vocal cords. Others blamed it on mic issues. But Mimi’s rep says that there were no issues and they’ve only heard good things from fans.
“The comments we have heard from the fans have been great!”
Mimi’s rep should’ve said that Mimi did hit all those high notes and the notes were so high that only dogs and angels could hear them.
Here’s another clip:
We all know what’s really going on here. As Mimi’s singing voice grows weaker, Ariana Grande Latte’s singing voice grows stronger. Ariana Grande is slowly stealing Mimi’s voice. Ariana Grande Latte must be stopped. She cannot be the new Supreme!
Ooh wee, someone clearly needs to run themselves a Calgon bath and put on some Enya, because that is not the face of a well-rested working girl! This is the face of someone who’s been burning the midnight oil and/or chasing the midnight dragon. Lindsay Lohan, you worked a whole day this week! Pour yourself a cup of Celestial Seasonings Tension Tamer and put your feet up, you deserve it! For real though, whatever you’re doing, you need to stop, because you look EXHAUSTED.
To celebrate the rave reviews she received for her opening night performance in Speed-The-Plow, Lindsay Lohan (or as she’s now known in America: “London’s Problem Now”) decided to treat herself to a night on the town. After all, it isn’t every day the Apricot Ashtray actually shows up for work semi-sober! Or at all, really. So she decided to go where every famous ho goes when they’re in London, the Chiltern Firehouse. Thank god it’s not an actual firehouse anymore, otherwise LiLo would have spent the night wandering around asking people if she can “slide down the pole” and trying to snort up the white parts of the dalmatian. Instead, she probably spent the night wandering around from table to table, asking rich dudes if she can slide down the pole and snorting up whatever she found on the floor before someone reminded her she has to go back to work the next day. “Wait, you mean I have to show up more than once???”
And I know I’ll hate myself for making this joke, but if Lindsay looks this tired after one day of work, maybe it’s time to Plow-The-Speed. Oh lord, that was awful – I’ll show myself out.
“My precious…. My precious… Wait, can I smoke these?”
Miracles happen every day (one example: I didn’t immediately run into oncoming traffic when I discovered I was fresh out of the good shit this morning) and today a miracle happened when the first preview for Speed-The-Plow in London started and Lindsay Lohan actually showed up on time and didn’t quit 10 minutes into it. Progress! People on Twitter were split about this shit. Some say that the first preview was a flaming train wreck and others say it was just “meh.” The Daily Mail and The Daily Beast say that LiLo and her cast mate Richard Schiff didn’t know their lines, the audience laughed at her during her big speech, the acting was high school levels of amateur and a messy bitch in the balcony (read: probably White Oprah) dropped champagne on another audience member’s head. That last part was probably the most exciting and theatrical thing that happened all night.
People on Twitter say that when LiLo wasn’t reading her lines out of a prop book she was holding, an assistant offstage fed them to her. LiLo stuttered through David Mamet’s words and when Richard Schiff’s character said to her, “You have done a fantastic job,” the audience laughed at the irony of it all. They laughed at LiLo’s ass again when her character said, “I know what it is to be bad. I’ve been bad.” But a source (Hi, White Oprah!) tells The Daily Mail that she was a pleasant surprise, looked “amazing” and it was only the first preview so she has time before opening night to get her shit together.
“She was just fine, she did forget her lines a couple of times but covered it up like a pro. She was a pleasant surprise for sure. Lindsay’s character was quite interesting and she immersed herself in the role, she was very strong in the second scene which was her biggest one. She looked amazing… I was in awe of her. It was no means a perfect performance and she’s certainly no Judi Dench, but she wasn’t awful. There is a line where she says ‘I know what it is to be bad, I’ve been bad” and the audience all cracked up laughing but she got great applause in the curtain call and someone passed her flowers from audience.”
So LiLo screwed up a few lines. Big deal! We all know she’s a pro at doing lines. It was probably a one-off. Besides, LiLo didn’t have time to memorize dumb lines for her job. She busy doing more important things like partying in Italy and France! But you know, I’d consider tonight a triumph. First of all, bitch didn’t hold up the curtain for 9 hours because her alarm went off at 6:30pm and she hit the snooze button 400 times. Second of all, LiLo didn’t suddenly come down with “walking pneumonia” 15 minutes in and leave to go to the hospital (the club). Third of all, she didn’t show up late to one of her cues because she was stealing coats out of the coat check room. What more do those people want?!
I didn’t know the #ROBSTENISUNBROKEN truthers were still a thing until CNN reported this morning that there’s another huge crack in the ozone layer from the high-pitched hot cries of woeful pain that the Robsten fangirls let out when seeing these pictures of Robert Pattinson holding hands with a trick who isn’t Kristen Stewart. They still will not believe. #ROBSTENISUNBROKEN will never become #ROBSTENISBROKEN. They will not let themselves believe that Rob is licking another trick’s armpit.
The former keeper of the Unicorn Forest, 28-yearold RPattz, has been dating 26-year-old British singer-songwriter FKA Twigs (born name: Tahliah Barnett) for a few weeks now and they’ve been papped hanging out in NYC. But just like I refuse to believe that Beverly Hills Teens got canceled and isn’t just on a really, really long hiatus, the Robsten fandom (yes, a little piece of my already dead soul dies more whenever I type “Robsten fandom”) refuses to believe that Robsten is out and SonWigs is in. But the hard truth stabbed them all in the hearts over the weekend when Instagram user shia_da posted pictures of RPattz and FKA Twigs holding hands while strolling on the beach in Venice, CA.