And now for your hourly update on the state of Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s maybe-crumbling marriage. According to Page Six, the everlasting love between Yawncé and Joe Camel is as dead as the wifi signal in the basement (Unable to join the network “Is there not a box of old weaves I asked you to organize, Solange?”). But because Beyoncé has an ego the size of …well…Beyoncé’s ego, and Jay-Z doesn’t want to admit that one of his 99 problems is, in fact, his bitch, they’re doing everything in their power to keep from getting divorced.
A source claims that Jay-Z hired marriage counsellors to travel with them on their “On The Run” tour, but they’re really only there to help them pretend they don’t totally hate each other as they sing about being sooooo in love night after night. Apparently, once the tour ends, Beyoncé plans on putting everything Jay-Z owns in a box to the left and telling that hussy-chasing camel to hit the bricks. The source also says they stopped wearing their wedding rings a long time ago, and that Blue Ivy was a band-aid baby. Basically, IT’S OVER. Except that it’s not:
“They are trying to figure out a way to split without divorcing. This is a huge concert tour and they’ve already gotten most of the money from the promoters up front.”
The only thing those two whores love more than attention is money, so this must be a tough decision for them. While Stuntyoncé and Jay-Z would no doubt kill for the chance to milk the hell out of a public divorce, they also want to keep counting their money without getting that guilty feeling that comes from swindling gullible fools at $75 a pop. That’s what’s known in the legal community calls a Katch-22, aka ”The Kardashian Connundrum”.
And how dare I refer to Blue Ivy a band-aid baby! I should know better. Band-aids are for commoners. Surely there’s some kind of luxury designer adhesive bandage product on the market. Maybe in France? Oh shit, I spoke to soon…
That Model Magic-faced troublemaking Muppet is at it again! Less than a month after an Instagram picture of Tameka “Tiny” Cottle instigated a fight between T.I. and boxer Floyd Mayweather that turned into an ugly Memorial Day chair-throwing Fatburger brawl, she’s found herself in the middle of yet another one of her husband’s fights, this time with full-time professional crazy Internet person (and sometime rapper) Azealia Banks. Billboard says that it all started after the release of T.I.’s single with Iggy Azalea, “No Mediocre”, to which Azealia Cupholder Full of Loose Change Tweeted (then deleted):
“U want no mediocre but…Have you seen your wife?”
RUDE! Tiny Cottle is the very definition of remarkable and extraordinary, you jealous hag. Naturally a statement that nasty would make anyone want to reply back: “Bitch, have you seen how long it’s taking you to release an album??”, but T.I. took the high road and said nothing. This must have pissed off Azealia even more, because she kept taking swipes at T.I. and Tiny in an insanely bold Twitter rant on Tuesday (which has since been deleted, because Azealia has a hard time releasing stuff) but thankfully Billboard hit ctrl+C before she did. This shit is long and messy, so it’s after the break:
If you ever wished someone would combine the harrowing courtroom custody battle from Kramer vs. Kramer with the over-the-top drama school theatrics of a Real Housewives reunion show and just a pinch of Michael Jackson face, then I have good news for you! Bethenny Frankel, former RHONY cast member, former talk show host, and former praying mantis (needs verification) is currently fighting with her ex-husband Jason Hoppy over the custody of their 4-year-old daughter Bryn, and Us Weekly says that Bethenny is putting on a performance worthy of a Daytime Emmy with her testimony against her ex. For your consideration...
Bethenny brings the Lifetime made-for-TV movie drama:
“Jason said to me, ‘Get ready, we are going to war. It’s over. We’re done.” He would hold Bryn, and he would say, ‘You’re finished, you’re done. I’m going to ruin you.’”
Bethenny brings the classic afternoon telenovela drama:
“He said, ‘You’re dead to me. I want nothing to do with you. You think I want to be with you on the holidays? You’re a piece of shit. You’re garbage. You have no idea what I’ve got on you.”
Bethenny brings the Disney Channel drama:
“He would say, ‘Mommy should be Ursula the witch. She’s a great witch. You be the princess, I’ll be the prince, Mommy will be the witch.”
Bethenny bring some sort of A&E’s Hoarders-themed drama:
“He would leave the house in shambles. There would be dishes everywhere. He would pee and poop and leave it in the toilets.”
I understand wanting to come for a trifling hoe in a court of law, but damn, this custody fight is getting messy. I’m not a parent, but it was my understanding that as long as you gave them clean clothes, food, hugs, snuggles, and teach them shapes and shit, you’re doing an a-ok job raising your kid. As it turns out, floating a bootycake in the toilet bowl is grounds for losing custody of your child.
And I hope the first thing the judge did after hearing Bethenny’s testimony was politely inform her that being compared to Ursula is a compliment, not an insult.
In between tripping down the red carpet, riffing to the audience at the Academy Awards, and stuffing her face full of pizza, Jennifer Lawrence appeared to be going for a new personal best in regards to convincing us that even though she’s at the Oscars, she’s still just a frumpy food-hongray bridge troll who snuck into Hollywood and keeps it rill by ripping farts in her Dior dress. However, some people thought she might be laying in on a little thick, one of which being Jesus’s druggy fuckup brother Jared Leto, who all but dramatically screamed “STUNT QUEEEEEEN!” when asked by Access Hollywood about J-Law:
Shortly before presenting an award, Lawrence looked into the crowd and said, “Why are you laughing? What, is this funny? I’m still watching you!”
And it seems as though Leto, and his family, were to blame for the distraction just moments after she walked out onto the stage.
“She said, ‘What are you laughing at?’ But what she didn’t know was that Ellen [DeGeneres] was on the side…making, pantomiming [motions like], ‘Don’t fall, don’t fall!’, and my mom and brother are all cracking up,” he revealed.
“I guess we don’t have manners. You can take them out of Louisiana, but you can’t take the Louisiana out of them, right?”
That would be enough evidence for the government to make you mysteriously disappear. But I guess Jared keeps it more real than J-Law and doesn’t give a fuck about taking America’s Sweetheart’s name in vain, because he then said this:
The Dallas Buyers Club actor jokingly dissed J.Law when asked what he thought about her latest falling incident:
“You know, I’m starting to wonder if this is a bit of an act.”
And immediately after the last word left his lips, a cloth bag was thrown over Jared’s head and he was ushered away into protective custody, where he’ll live out the rest of his life as a pharmacy assistant at a New Mexico Walgreens under the assumed name of Darren Sbarro.
Shia LaDouche is facing a lawsuit from comic book artist Daniel Clowes for stealing some of Clowes’ work for his short film and he’s also facing a class-action lawsuit from millions of humans who sprained their necks while shaking their heads at his copy + paste theatrics. Everybody hates Shia LaDouche right now. So because Shia’s name is the #1 answer for the question, “Whose face do you want to punch repeatedly?” on Family Feud, he’s taking the hint and retiring. Shia dramatically announced on Twitter last night that he’s taking his final bow and is done with creating. To quote Jon Gosselin’s piece after he cums and says he’s done fucking her: “I wasn’t even aware you started, bitch.” Shia LaDouche has only created a crotch crabs and dick fleas mutant hybrid, but whatever.
Shia is so sick and tired of hating whores calling him out for his acts of shameless thievery that he’s done with public life. As an entire world weeped and screamed out “OH GOD OH GOD WHY?!” at the fact that there will never be an Even Stevens reunion movie, Shia twatted this out:
In light of the recent attacks against my artistic integrity, I am retiring from all public life.
— Shia LaBeouf (@thecampaignbook) January 10, 2014
My love goes out to those who have supported me.
— Shia LaBeouf (@thecampaignbook) January 10, 2014
— Shia LaBeouf (@thecampaignbook) January 10, 2014
Not too long ago, a certain douchey piece of trash toddler was so sick of everyone “picking” on him for being a crusty ass sore that he took all his toys away, said he was done playing and went to sulk in the corner thinking everyone would scream, “No. Don’t go. Please.” That toddler’s name is Justin Bieber. So Shia LaDouche is plagiarizing Justin Bieber now….
Well, at least we have Eagle Eye to remember Shia LaDouche’s artistic contributions to culture.
If real life was Hairspray, Gwyneth Paltrow would be Velma Von Tussle, Vanity Fair would be Tracy Turnblad, Dlisted would be Corny Collins, and the rest of us would all be Link Larkin swooning over the framed picture of Vanity Fair on our night stand. Just like Velma spent every waking hour trying to get Tracy booted off The Corny Collins Show, Gwyneth is funnelling all her smug hatred into bringing down Vanity Fair. Today’s Question With an Obvious Answer is: Do we think Gwyneth was a bully in high school?
Radar reports that despite Vanity Fair’s latest issue lacking the expose, Gwyneth isn’t sleeping soundly just yet. A source claims:
“It’s still going to run and it could possibly break online in the next two-three weeks. Too many resources have been plowed into it and too many bridges have been brined for it to be killed. She wants the magazine’s reputation destroyed before they can even publish anything on her.”
Even though Gwyneth has publicly bragged about how few fucks she gives what people think of her, behind closed doors (very expensive doors on special hinges that you cannot afford) she’s up all night sending out mass emails begging her friends to destroy Vanity Fair’s reputation before the story is published. It’s reported that she’s convinced George Clooney to withdraw from the magazine’s Hollywood Issue cover, but others, like Julia Roberts (who is close with Vanity Fair’s editor-in-chief Graydon Carter), have not been so responsive.
“[Julia] is ignoring Gwyneth, has no problem with Graydon and is happily still committed to appear on the cover of that issue,” the source revealed, noting that the refusal to bend to Paltrow’s wishes “has probably ended any chance of a friendship between the two of them.”
Ouch. Sounds like Julia responded to Gwyneth’s email with an extra-strenght eye roll and the dealwithit.gif. In other news, did I just start hating Julia Roberts a little less? Julia just proved that no matter how deluded you are to think you could take down an entire magazine, there will always be somebody with a bit more power, laughing at you as they forward your emails to the trash bin.
And if you’re ever having a bad day, just imagine Gwyneth Paltrow at home shitting herself in a pair of $350 100-mile panties every time she refreshes the Vanity Fair homepage.
(Pic via Wenn)
The Summer’s Eve Douche Death Match between Justin Timberlake and Kanye West went into round 2 last night on SNL when Justin grabbed Kanye’s kilt and dragged that trick’s ass along the floor for talking shit about “Suit & Tie.”
At his show in London last month, Kanye Kardashian fired the first shot during one of his eye roll-inducing rants when he said, “I got love for Hov, but I ain’t fucking with that ‘Suit & Tie.’” Coming from a trick who’s fucking with a Kardashian, that’s a compliment. So Justin should’ve flipped his head the other way and ignored Gay Fish, but since he can’t resist a good old-fashioned douche off, he fired back last night. While performing “Suit & Tie” with Jay-Z (click here if you need to see it), the Robin Thicke impersonator sang out this lyric:
“My hits so sick/Got rappers acting dramatic.”
This beef is nowhere near as entertaining as LaDouche vs. Baldwin, but I still love it when two catty queens try to yank the plugs out of each other’s asses. I’m sure Kanye will come back and try to slap the Dark & Lovely out of Justin’s hair. I’m not on Team Gay Fish and I’m not on Team Timberlake, but I still can’t wait for their next meeting in the ladies room.
Here’s some pictures of Justin and Jessica Biel outside of the SNL after-party last night and also some pictures of Jessica trying to stir up the pregnancy rumors by wearing some maternity shit yesterday afternoon.
Well…except for his bodyguard, because dude is obviously picking the Biebs up and putting him in the time out corner. No juice for you, Bieby!
I guess posing topless for the Beliebers was just the medicine Justin Bieber needed, because it looks like he has fully recovered and is back to bringing some hood rat stuff vengeance on the tricks who try to screw with him. TMZ has a hilarious video of the Biebs puffing his tiny chest while trying to beat up a pap in London today. After Justin sashayed out of his hotel, he pushed up against a melodramatic pap while making his way to a van. The pap knew that the easiest way to make a grouchy toddler even grouchier is to egg him on, which is exactly what the pap did.
Justin jumped inside of the van, but he obviously heard the pap shouting shit like, “Fuck off back to America, you little fucking moron,” because he jumped out and threatened to take the pap down. The Biebs screamed at the pap, “I’ll fucking beat the fuck out of you,” before his hot bodyguards picked him up like the 15 pound baby he is and dropped him back in the van.
Just like I do whenever I watch Henery Hawk try to get gangsta on Looney Tunes, I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed while watching Justin Bieber try to fight a bitch. The Biebs is about as threatening as a baby lamb’s saliva bubble. The Biebs couldn’t even beat the fuck out of my broken Tickle-Me-Elmo doll. If Justin’s bodyguards weren’t there to hold him back, bro, the pap could’ve easily handled that situation. When Justin Bieber comes at you, all you have to do is hold your hand against his forehead and roll your eyes as he furiously punches the air.
But his people should’ve known this was going to happen. Everybody knows how cranky toddlers get when you wake them up from a nap.
“Lindsay Lohan is psychotic” replaced “water is wet” as the #1 DUH statement of our time and Samantha Ronson’s British socialite of a mother Ann Dexter-Jones wanted to remind us all of this.
The sloppy mash-up of Sarah Jessica Parker and Janice the Muppet tells The Daily Mail all about the night that she finally realized that LiLo and SamRo were about as good for each other as masturbating with a circumcised tree branch is for your coochie. Ann says that the year was 2008 and they were all at the opening of The Atlantis in Dubai when she shook her head as LiLo banged her fists on a thick carpet and no that isn’t a euphemism for pussy bumpin’. Ann watched LiLo throw a toddler-style tantrum on the floor and the next day she let her daughter and that crazy crackie bitch know that she wasn’t going to bless their lezzie version of Sid & Nancy anymore and her house was now a Lohan-free zone.
“Suddenly, without any warning, Lindsay flung herself on to the thick carpet and started to roll around screaming like a child. It seemed she was upset that people, including Samantha, were not paying her enough attention. To my mind, it was classic psychotic behavior. I took Lindsay aside and told her not to make a spectacle of herself. She was clearly out of control and spoiling for a fight.
I know stuff, but I don’t want to go into it. I just knew that it was not a good place for my child to be, but sometimes a parent’s objection only makes it more exciting. When I saw for myself just how volatile Lohan was, I realised that the relationship was not healthy. The morning after her tantrum – and believe me, that was not the worst of it – I told them both that I could no longer support them as a couple, that I no longer approved of them being together and that Lindsay was no longer welcome in my home.”
This finally explains that picture. Ann Dexter-Jones isn’t screaming, because she’s so excited that someone is actually taking her picture. Ann Dexter-Jones is screaming, because just standing next to LiLo is painful and she wants to butt fuck her with that pack of Reds. Ann banishing a Lohan from her life was a good move for her family, just like bringing up her daughter’s old relationship to sell her stupid jewelry collection is a good move for her family.
This is the perfect time to remember the good old days when LiLo was giving us the low-budget version of Sharon Stone in Casino:
Morrissey tells JuiceOnline.com (via Billboard) that after being in the music business for 30 years, his body is no longer the willowy reed of pure sex that it once was and so he’s going to officially retire at the decaying and decrepit (served in a bowl of warm sarcasm) age of 55. Morrissey name dropped Syria in his resignation letter, because it wouldn’t be a Morrissey quote if he didn’t inject a little political shit into it.
“I am slightly shocked to have gone as far as I have. This is my 30th year, and I’ve aged a lot recently, which is bit distressing for me, as it must be for everyone. The body changes shape and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do I continue as a modern day Andy Williams? I take one hour at a time. We will all probably be blown up by the Syrian government soon, anyway, so it hardly matters in the great scheme of things.”
What in the hell kind of GD retirement excuse is that?! Morrissey is going to retire because his sciatica is acting up and he doesn’t think the scent of BenGay belongs at a rock show? What bullshit. Iggy Pop performed at Ramesses II’s Diamond Jubilee and he’s still swinging his saggy chest sacks on stage today. Steven Tyler’s bones are being held together with mummy tape dipped in Elmer’s and he doesn’t let that stop him from performing. But Morrissey is too delicate to go on? This isn’t how Morrissey is supposed to quit. Morrissey is supposed to quit over some stupid shit like an audience member in the front row sipping non-vegan beer at one of his shows. Morrissey will gasp, throw the back of his hand over his forehead, arch his back and jazz walk stage left as the lights dim to a slow cue and a red velvet curtain drops. That’s how a melodramatic queen goes!