The producers of Days of Our Lives, Young and the Restless, and whatever other soap opera is still on the air should really hire Duchess Meghan’s melodramatic father Thomas Markle to write for them, because he’s bringing the twists, turns and theatrical drama. Thomas was supposed to walk Meghan down the aisle, but when it came out that he staged embarrassing pap pics, he had a heart attack and eventually pulled out of the wedding completely because he needed to have surgery.
One of Meghan’s unnamed friends is now telling The Daily Mail that Thomas’ heart attack and surgery was about as fake as Prince Hot Ginge’s denial that he’s really in love with an old skinny fat blogger from California. The friend claims Thomas faked a heart attack to get sympathy from the public and to also get out of going to the wedding. The creators of The Crown better send Thomas his favorite thing, a stack of cash, as a thank you for giving them some serious ESCANDALOSONESS for season 8.
Frank Ocean’s new album Blonde probably would have gotten at least one Grammy nomination, but now he’s guaranteed a grand total of zero nominations, because his team missed the deadline to submit it. Billboard says that Frank Ocean’s people didn’t screw up. They knew about the Grammy nominations deadline and said “fuck it” to submitting Blonde and his visual album Endless. Either Frank Ocean thinks the Grammys hold about as much importance as the shit churning in a bull’s bowels, or he doesn’t want to bruise his palms from clapping every time Adele beats him since she’s probably going to win everything. It seems like Frank Ocean doesn’t give one damn about getting a Grammy nomination, but Kanye West really cares about Frank Ocean getting a Grammy nomination.
The L.A. County Jail should really make Suge Knight teach community college theater students how to bring the theatrics and raw drama in extra heavy doses, because he knows how it’s done. Since Suge has been in jail on murder charges, he has collapsed in the court room all extra dramatic-like, had a panic attack and appeared before a judge in a wheelchair, because what kind of cold-hearted judge is going to punish a weak soul in a wheelchair? Since the meanie judge has yet to take pity on Suge’s plight and transfer him from his jail cell to a suite at the Four Seasons, he has stepped it up. Suge is crying that his toilet is crazier than him and claims he might have a brain tumah.
Tom Mesereau, who represented Michael Jackson during that child touching trial, is Suge’s new lawyer and he recently filed papers asking for the Blanche DuBois of gangsters to be moved to a different cell. Suge is crying that his toilet is broken and flushes every 20 minutes all day and all night. Poor delicate, dew drop Suge doesn’t have a proper velvet settee to have his fainting spells upon and now he has to deal with a busted toilet disturbing his beauty sleep. Even the toilet is sick of his shit.
On top of Suge’s possessed toilet woes, he also claims that doctors think he could have a brain tumor since he regularly experiences numbness on the side of his body. That numbness could merely be from Suge sleeping on a cheap jail cot instead of an Egyptian cotton-covered mattress filled with swan feathers like he’s used to. Suge asked that his new cell be in a jail that has access to a medical facility.
The judge is still not taking pity on Suge’s plight. The judge denied Suge’s transfer request, so he’ll have to continue to deal with the sound of the ones he’s wronged saying, “Suuuuuuge, Iiiiiii’m goooooing to geeeeet youuuuu,” through the haunted toilet. The judge also denied Suge’s request to lower his $10 billion bail.
So what now? Suge can either borrow a stunt from fellow jail bird drama queen Roxie Hart by faking a pregnancy or he can start working on an escape plan by wooing a sad and desperate jail house sewing teacher whose clit gets the throbs for diabolical rap mogul dick.
You’d think that any Ian Somerhalder fan who is devoted and crazy enough to stand outside of his hotel in Paris would know that May 28th is International Ian Somerhalder Day and on that day, Ian Somerhalder does not take selfies or sign autographs, thankyouverymuch.
Yesterday in Paris, Ian and his partner in cheese Nikki Reed walked out of their hotel and straight into a group of fans who wanted a picture with him. Since it was May 28th and his day, Ian Somerhalder dramatically let his fans know in an impassioned speech that he would not be posing with them. If you’re fluent in side-eye reading, then you can clearly see the guy in the black suit and t-shirt saying, “Um, you know you could just take a quick picture with them in the time it’s taking you to give this long ass speech,” with his side-eye
That crying girl… It’s just Ian Somerhalder! It’s not like it’s a legendary Ian like Ian Ziering or anything.
I, for one, love Ian’s anti-Norma Desmond “I am NOT ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille” monologue. With a few changes, it’s the perfect speech to say in many situations. The next time a bill collector calls you, say to them, “You guys, I am not taking a single call from a bill collector today. It is MY day. Don’t call me, please. I love you. You’re so awesome.” Make sure you grab and shake your left titty when you say “MY” so they can really feel the emotion through the phone.
But seriously, if Ian really wanted those fans to leave him alone, he should’ve just said to them, “Hi, everyone, I’m not Zac Efron.” They would’ve said, “Oh shit,” before shuffling away.
I watched all 3 hours of last night’s American Music Awards and it took a lot of the sweet nectar to get through it. I’m surprised I’m not typing this from a hospital bed as a nurse stands next to me, wringing the booze out of my liver before shoving it back up my asshole. Watching it felt like being stuck in a suburban 10-year-old’s iTunes playlist. It was one shit song after another and at one point I weeped for our nation’s children, because when I was a kid our ears were filled with the artistic melodies put out by real artists like Milli Vanilli and Vanilla Ice.
Taylor Swift opened the crap song buffet with a performance of that “Blank Space” song and she probably gave the best performance of the night. I’m only saying that because it was a wreck from start to finish. Tay Tay recreated her video by playing a crazy-eyed, boyfriend-ruining psycho (read: herself, basically). It works in the video, but it was a mess live. Bitch ran around like an ostrich with mad squirrel disease. It’s like the deranged spirit of Norma Desmond possessed the body of a vintage Barbie.
Tay Tay’s performance looks like it was done on the set of a non-union touring production of Scooby Doo Live. I kept waiting for Shaggy and the gang to come out, pull off Taylor Swift’s mask and reveal that she’s actually Old Farmer Jenkins and it was him killing all those young, hot white men. Tay Tay’s acting wasn’t the only messy part of that performance. At first I thought she was mouthing to a track, but it became apparent that she wasn’t totally lip-synching when an off-key note shot out of her mouth and drop kicked my eardrum.
For the rest of the show, Taylor did what Taylor does: she held court with the “popular girls” (Selena Gomez and Selena’s one-time arch rival Lorde) and busted her out inflatable wind dancer moves in the front row. During Selena Gomez’s ~emotionally raw~ performance in front of a screensaver, Tay Tay did this:
Those duo of side-eyes…. They say everything.
Lorde (aka Emily the Strange with a spiral perm) is thinking to herself, “Cry, bitch, cry more! Your pain feeds my Hot Topic soul” and Taylor is either crying from the raw emotion or she’s crying from the second-hand embarrassment she feels while watching Selena squirt out tears over Justin Fucking Bieber.
And at the end of the show, I made the same face Taylor’s making when I realized that I wasted 3 hours of my night and could’ve watched The Comeback instead.
Uh oh, passive-aggressive shots fired! It was revealed yesterday in a Rolling Stone interview that human Werther’s Original Taylor Swift had written a song for her upcoming album 1989 about a super-mean tour-sabotaging former showbiz frenemy titled “Bad Blood”, but it could have also been called “Bad Blind” because it was pretty obvious she was talking about Katy Perry. Now would be a good time to remind you that Taylor Swift is almost 25 and Katy Perry will be 30 years old next month. You know, just in case you thought we were discussing the drama between two 13-year-old girls.
Even though Tay-Tay Butterscotch Sundae never named her by name (CALL A BITCH OUT, TAYLOR), Katy Perry took to Twitter (via UsWeekly) to let everyone know that even though a certain someone (CALL A BITCH OUT, KATY) might act all sweet and innocent, she’s actually more of a mean girl than she lets on:
“I prefer to think of myself as a sweet lil’ apple pie-baking spring lamb, but sheep works too I guess” – Taylor Swift.
So let me get this straight: Kay-Kay and Tay-Tay used to be friends until Kay-Kay started doing some major plastics sabotage by hooking up with Tay-Tay’s leftovers and trying to steal her dancers and saying mean things to Tay-Tay, which made Tay-Tay cry tears of liquid butterscotch into her hand-embroidered lace-trimmed pillows. So she decided to get revenge by showing everyone what an awful person Kay-Kay is by writing a song about her, but she doesn’t say who she’s talking about, because she’s SUCH a good person and would NEVER do something so bitchy. Then Kay-Kay gets revenge on Tay-Tay by
pushing her in front of a bus dragging a bitch on Twitter.
Oh my god, does Ms. Norbury have to call you two into the gymnasium and talk about the times you’ve felt personally victimized by each other?? Well she isn’t going to, because Ms. Norbury is a high school teacher and YOU ARE TWO GROWN-ASS WOMEN!