Scientists looking for concrete proof that delusion is the secret ingredient in meth got what they were searching for in the tweet that pop twink turned Hilary Duff stalker Aaron Carter burped up yesterday. Aaron tweeted (and later deleted), “Remember one very important thing. Michael passed down the torch to me. I never had to ask for him to do that,” and that pretty much made Twitter ring the bell because the games had begun.
When a bunch of people on Twitter threw Aaron the same “uh huh, bitch” look that my friends throw at me when I tell them I’m going on a 5 day booze and weed cleanse, he defended himself and stamped the word “bully” on the hos who laughed at him for saying he’s the Michael Jackson of our time. I read the string of tweets this morning and thought they were going to bring the laughs, but they quickly nose dived straight into a puddle of SADS.
Some of the tweets that Aaron tweeted up are after the cut and in case you didn’t know, his nickname for Michael Jackson is “Dookie.” I mean….
The answer to the question, “What happens when you give children of the 1% as much weed as they want and let them school themselves?”, was answered last year when Jaden Smith and Willow Smith did a brain-melting interview with T Magazine where they went on about prana energy and metaphysics. If you figured then that Jaden would one day switch his strain and outgrow that phase, you were wrong, because it’s a year later and his 17-year-old brain is still spitting out nuggets of solid foolery. Will and Jada Pinkett Smith’s son did an interview with GQ, for some reason, and he brought us into his world of pyramids and science. If HBO ever decides to do a season of True Detective in space, they should get Jaden Smith to write the script.
It’s nice to know that Azealia Banks doesn’t only mouth fart up the “faggot” word and bust out massive amounts of crazy on Twitter. Azealia Banks does it in the world outside of Twitter too! At least she’s consistently HER.
Iggy Azalea’s #1 fan (served on a plate of freshly washed sarcasm) and a sort-of supporter of Donald Trump’s thoughts on immigration (not served on a plate of freshly washed sarcasm) was on a flight from NYC to LAX early this morning and she gave passengers several servings of her signature messiness when the plane landed. A passenger tells TMZ that after the plane landed at 1 this morning, Azealia was more than ready to get off of that bitch and she grabbed her bag before quickly making her way to the exit. Azealia was in the 6th row and her plan to get off the plane first was blocked by a French couple in the 3rd row. The couple was in the aisle getting their bags from the overhead and when Azealia tried to squeeze by them, the French dude “put his hand out” to block her. That little move switched Azalea’s switch and bitch went off on him in more ways than one.
We’ve all had to deal with screaming babies or toddlers whose parents don’t try to shush them up. Even though a non-stop crying baby scrapes four layers off of my nerves, I’ve always tried to keep it together and not lose it, because I don’t want to be known as the ice cold cunt who made a kid cry more. (I can’t believe I typed that last part. I don’t know myself anymore.) But well, there’s a diner owner in Maine who doesn’t care and will gladly tell off a crying toddler.
On Father’s Day, stale flax seed and lavender breadstick Blake NotSoLively threw up this picture on Instagram of her husband Ryan Reynolds and their 6-month-old baby daughter James with the caption: “Happy Fathers Day!!! … @vancityreynolds Since the day our baby was born, I’ve felt so strongly in my heart that you were most likely the father.” Insert “nervous laugh from Ben Affleck” here.
Some people weren’t laughing at Blake NotSoLively’s joke, because they were too busy screaming their tonsils off for the policía, the FBI, Obama, Child Protective Services, Mary Poppins and Mama Rabbit over the way Baby James is sitting in that baby backpack thing. When I see that picture, I see baby feet hanging out of a baby backpack thing. But when mad moms see that picture, they practically see Ryan Reynolds dangling his baby over a river full of blood-thirsty, hungry great white sharks. I know that great white sharks don’t live in rivers, but mad moms aren’t thinking clearly, because the veins in their brains are pumped full of boiling outrage.
Seen above looking like a fourth-rate Yellow Pages DMC from Run DMC impersonator sticking out of a giant grizzly bear’s pussy, Diddy was arrested by campus police at UCLA this afternoon after he allegedly went crazy on his son’s football coach and threatened to smash a trick with a kettlebell. If you’re like me and don’t know what a kettlebell is, because you only go to the gym to watch buff guys workout and to use the hot tub, this is what a kettlebell looks like:
TMZ says that the fight went down at the UCLA Athletic Facility today. A source tells TMZ that yesterday, a Strength and Conditioning Coach (Side note: My hair could use a Strength and Conditioning Coach because shit has been brittle and dry lately) screamed at Diddy’s son Justin Combs, who is a defensive back on the team, and rode his ass hard (and not in a sexy way). The coach Sal Alosi allegedly told Justin not to come back until the end of the summer. So Diddy went to UCLA today to have a little talk with Sal Alosi.
A source close to Diddy (Hi Diddly’s publicist!) claims that Sal Alosi refused to see him, but he busted into the office anyway. Sal threatened to call security and shit got serious when Diddy said, “Fine, I’ll call the police.” Sal lost his mind and went after Diddy. Diddy grabbed a kettlebell and held it up, but never hit Sal with it. A UCLA source tells a different story, of course. That source claims that Sal was on the phone when Diddy came into the office. Sal told Diddy to hold on, but the only thing he wanted to hold on to was Sal’s ripped-off head. That source says that Diddy picked up the kettlebell and tried to hit Sal in the head with it.
Diddy was arrested on a charge of assault with a deadly weapon. As of Monday night, Diddy is still in campus jail. (Update: Diddy was transferred to L.A. County jail where he was charged with three counts of assault with a deadly kettlebell, one count of making terrorist threats and one count of battery. He paid the $50,000 bail and was released.)
The entire messy scene is on video, so I’m sure it will show up on TMZ in 3..2….
There’s another layer of fuckery on top of this fuckery enchilada. Sal Alosi used to be a coach for the NY Jets and he was suspended by the NFL in 2010 for purposefully tripping a Miami Dolphins player during a game.
I bet that video looks like a fight on Dance Moms, only bitchier and with more high-pitched screaming. You know what’s hard to believe about this story? I’m having a hard time believing that Diddy actually picked up that kettlebell by himself. I mean, Diddly can’t even hold an umbrella in his delicately manicured hands. Are we sure one of his butlers didn’t pick up the kettlebell for him?
A serious, serious thing happened the other day: Joss Whedon quit Twitter. And Joss Whedon quit around the same time that the poetic child of a peyote plant and a PM. Dawn lyrics sheet, Jaden Smith, quit too. How we’ll be able to pick up the pieces and go on as a people is beyond me.
I figured that Joss Whedon left Twitter, because the Avengers: Age of Ultron made six trajillion dollars and it’s kind of hard to type 140 character-long tweets while you’re doing yourself with a solid gold dildo as one slave exfoliates your bald head with crushed canary diamonds and another slave massages your balls with a Pegasus feather. But others figured Joss Whedon quit the bitch that is Twitter because feminists dragged his ass for the way Black Widow was treated in Age of Ultron. Others argued that it’s not solely Joss Whedon’s fault, because he was basically Marvel’s well-paid corporate bitch and they fought over storylines and scenes in the Avengers. Patton Oswalt piped in and also said that the tea party version of feminists chased Joss away. (Patton Oswalt later deleted that tweet and took it back. But when is he going to take back his unholy rant against ginger angel Phoebe Price?!)
Joss Whedon wanted to put a stop to all the talk that the mean, angry feminists made him pick up his toys and leave the playground. So Joss called Buzzfeed and told them that he didn’t leave Twitter because of the Avengers hate. He left because he needs to get shit done.
Up until a few hours ago, the name Britt McHenry made my brain spit out question marks and if you asked me who she was I’d guess that she was the first one kicked off of The Bachelor last season. I still don’t really know who Britt McHenry is, but I do know that she’s a suspended reporter from ESPN and is one of those types who plays the “Do you know who I am, bitch?” card.
ESPN suspended reporter Britt McHenry after an edited video of her going full cunt on a tow truck lady popped up on LiveLeak. Busted Coverage says that Britt’s verbal slap down all started when her car got towed while she was eating at a restaurant in Arlington, VA. Britt went to pick up her car at Advanced Towing (which apparently has a reputation for being shifty as hell) and went in on the tow truck attendant. The tow truck lady, whose name is apparently Gina Michelle, let Britt know that she better be ready for her close-up, because she was on camera and ESPN Barbie couldn’t give a shit.
In so many words, Britt told Gina that she’s a toothless, uneducated, trailer trash fatty. Bitch is like Regina George SANS class, wit and hair that looks like it’s been conditioned with the jizz of the gods. The video is below. She would’ve come off a little bit more hardcore and threatening if she didn’t have that Whoville donut bun on her head.
Baby girl? Who in the hell does she think she is? Valerie Cherish?
The thing is, the tow truck lady might not have even known who Britt Michelle was (like 99% of the country). But because Britt Michelle just had to say, “I’m in the news, sweetheart,” Gina Michelle probably Googled her ass and decided to EXPOSE her by releasing this edited video of her greatest hits. That’s why nothing good comes from saying, “Do you know who I am?” 9.5 times out of 10, they’re not going to say back to you, “Oh my fuck, you’re Britt McHenry from ESPN! I am so sorry! Here’s your money back and I’ll have my guys hand wash your car before pulling it up front, baby girl.”
In an intense and stressful moment, I allowed my emotions to get the best of me and said some insulting and regrettable things. As frustrated as I was, I should always choose to be respectful and take the high road. I am so sorry for my actions and will learn from this mistake.
Oh please, baby girl. If you’re going to be a bitch, be a bitch and own being a bitch. None of this “stressful moment” shit. Own your bitchery. Or if you don’t want to do that, just say that video was a Funny or Die prank and hope that everyone believes you.
A couple of weeks ago, the University of Oklahoma hosted a Jack White show and before the show, the university newspaper, OU Daily, decided to print his contract and tour rider. The contract said that Jack White will make $80,000 or 90% of ticket sales (whichever is more) and his tour rider made it clear that he must have fresh guacamole made exactly to his specifications. On the rider was a recipe for Jack White’s guacamole, and yup, he likes it chunky. It didn’t seem that weird to me, because it’s not like his ass was asking for a new toilet or no brown M&Ms, but it got Jack White mad. During the show, Jack White slapped at OU Daily and he wasn’t done. Yesterday, he shat up a four million word rant against the media and their shameless click-bait tactics. Jack White might not be serious about his guac, but he’s serious about hos saying he’s serious about his guac.
Blind Item: Which “Incredibly Famous Young Woman” Does Stephen Amell Think Is An “Overly Sexualized Velociraptor”?
Stephen Amell, the dude from Arrow on The CW, had breakfast in L.A. last Tuesday with his wife Cassandra Jean and their 1-year-old daughter Mavi. Everything was all pancakes and rainbows until an “emotional terrorist” walked into the restaurant and Stephen had to clutch his pearls, cover his daughter’s eyes with a Bible and quickly rush his family to the nearest church to dip their eyeballs in holy water after seeing that dark-sided slutty dinosaur. Stephen wrote on Facebook (via ONTD) about how he left a restaurant because he didn’t want his daughter to make eye contact with an “overly sexualized velociraptor.”
Had breakfast on Tuesday in Los Angeles with my wife and daughter. In the midst of marveling at how she’s able to eat pancakes intended for fully grown humans while weighing less than 25 pounds… An incredibly famous young woman came in with her sort of (not really) famous boyfriend. I immediately tensed because I consider this person – as the father of a young girl – to be nothing short of an emotional terrorist. My wife senses this and asks me what’s wrong. I respond that we need to leave immediately for fear my kid and this overly sexualized velociraptor make eye contact even for the briefest of instances. I was dead serious. This is what it’s like to have a daughter.
Even though he said “overly sexualized velociraptor” and not “overly sexualized hillbilly chipmunk,” I’m going to guess Miley Cyrus and Patrick Schwarzenegger?
Overreact: This is how you do it. Dude needs to be fitted for a crown, because he’s the fragile dramatic queen of fragile dramatic queens. I don’t think his 1-year-old even know who Miley Cyrus is. Besides, it’s not like Miley was on top of a table fucking herself with a rolled-up pancake as Patrick poured maple syrup all over her naked body. (Or was she? You never know with Miley.) Nothing is really worth abandoning delicious pancakes for.
I mean, if Billy Ray was with Miley, then I’d totally understand Stephen’s reaction. Because no child should have to look at the possum carcass on Billy Ray’s head.
And “overly sexualized velociraptor” is my new favorite dinosaur. I hope it’s in the next Jurassic Park movie.