Hot weirdo Evan Peters and Julia Roberts’ maybe-crazy niece Emma Roberts called it quits for the 1.7 millionth time back in May. If American Horror Story ever did a season based around Groundhog Day, this would be the B storyline. Because once again, Emma Roberts and Evan Peters are back together.
Sad. When two people who love each other so much they both start to morph into the His n’ Hers version of an Urban Outfitters manager can’t make it work, what hope do the rest of us have?
According to UsWeekly, almost one year since they dumped their relationship in the trash the first time, Emma Roberts and Evan Peters are calling it quits again. Multiple sources say that it was “amicable“, a word which is tied with the phrase “over the moon” for the most popular adjective to describe how a famous person is feeling about something that has happened in their personal life. Emma and Evan got with each other way back in 2012 on the set of a movie, and then got engaged in 2014. Based on a statistic I just made up, two breakups usually mean the wedding probably isn’t going to happen. With that being said, I wonder which of them will get custody of Ryan Murphy?
Not much else is known about why 25-year-old Emma and 29-year-old Evan couldn’t make it work a second time. My guess is that it ended because Emma told Evan who the Red Devil was two episodes into Scream Queens, and Evan decided he just couldn’t be with the type of person who was so casual about spoilers. That, or Evan’s chiropractor gave him the bad news that ducking so many slaps and punches had put his neck at risk for a C7 vertebrae fracture and that just one more fight could snap his spine.
Here’s Emma holding a purse that looks like a Muppets’ diaphragm at the FOX Upfronts yesterday, and Evan at the UK premiere of X-Men: Apocalypse last week.
When two sources “confirmed” that Kerry Washington had another baby growing in her belly yesterday, I made a joke that Kerry would confirm it herself by posing on the red carpet of the Met Gala with her hand placed on her stomach. And last night Kerry Washington hit the Met Gala red carpet with her hand on her stomach. Although I almost didn’t notice that hand because I was too distracted by that purple hair. Mon Dieu (splashes self with holy water), that hair! I am so conflicted. It’s not permanent (Instagram tells me that those are extensions), so that’s good. It sort of looks like the kind of fake hair you’d find on the floor of the Rock of Love Bus, which makes me want to pour myself a hot mug of penicillin. On the other hand, it looks like it was found on the floor of the Rock of Love Bus, which means it’s 100% pure fake hair perfection.
I’ve known some pregnant people, and one thing I’ve gleaned is that sometimes being knocked up makes you do some crazy things. Case in point: the gorgeous black lace boudoir ensemble Kerry is wearing. I feel like non-knocked up Kerry wouldn’t wear that. But knocked up Kerry? Sure! The more black lace the better. Or maybe this is Kerry’s way of paying tribute to Prince. If Prince designed maternity clothes, I’m almost positive that’s what he’d make.
Kerry didn’t exactly do much with the technology theme, but there were a few people who tried. Let’s start with Demi Lovato.
I’ve been putting up crosses, pictures of the baby Jesus and lighting prayer candles all week to protect myself from the impending apocalypse, which started yesterday. Hell fire rained down, demons joyously jumped through fields and string headband sales skyrocketed. My friends, pray with me… Coachella is upon us. Thankfully, I live on the East Coast, so I’m not in the danger zone, but these things spread. The hell mouth that has opened up in California to let loose boho dresses and string fringe vests could very well continue to grow and swallow the whole world. Let’s take a look at some of the devastation.
Saint Laurent’s show at The Hollywood Palladium in L.A. was last night and I guess the invitation read: Come dressed as a strung-out performer in Florida’s Meth Circus. I’m also guessing that Justin Bieber and Lady CaCa were the only ones who followed that dress code because DAMN. Gaga looks like a drunk, clingy auntie who is trying to relive her glory days by wearing one of her favorite outfits from the 80s and Justin Bieber looks like her messy teen nephew who is impatiently waiting for her to pass out into a drunken coma so he can go into her purse and steal enough money to buy a baggy of the bad shit.
If you’ve ever wondered what it would look like if Nancy Spungen played Susan in Desperately Seeking Susan, wonder no more. If you’ve ever asked yourself, “Hmmm, I wonder what it would look like if Harpo Marx played Riff Raff, Columbia AND Magenta in a community theater production of Rocky Horror Picture Show?“, you don’t have to ask yourself that question anymore. Lady Gaga answered both of those questions at the Saint Laurent show last night when she showed up in a sequined blazer that screamed, “affordable Michael Jackson impersonator,” makeup that screamed, “cracked out Casper the Friendly Ghost,” and a wig that looked like a pile of uncooked curly fries.
Gaga, Justin Bieber and his struggle stache managed to achieve the impossible, though. They managed to be the messiest messes at an event that Courtney Love was at. Because when Courtney Love showed up looking clean and hot, I doubt the door person said to her, “Um, no loitering! No loitering,” like they did with the Biebs and Gaga.
So Gaga and Justin Bieber should give themselves a slow clap for that.
And here’s a million more pictures from last night’s show including some of the hotness personified that is the Kravitz family and American-Canadian fresh drew drop Pamela Anderson with her son Brandon Lee who used an entire jar of hair grease to give you “Young Elvis.”
Andy Samberg’s tiny-voiced wife Joanna Newsom is sort of known for having a “fuck it, I wear what I want” attitude when it comes to red carpet clothes. Which is great, because, fuck it – wear what you want. And last night was no exception. Obviously the WTF Award went to Heidi Klum and whatever the hell she was wearing, but Joanna came pretty close.
Joanna’s look is sort of a mix between “accident at the Mattel factory involving a Pink n’ Pretty dining room set” and “fancy new money jellyfish“, and I don’t hate it. She looks like what I imagine Miss Piggy’s powder room looks like; just tons of random fabric and shit covered in gems. Also, if you squint a little, her dress sort of looks like a penis with a wart on the tip. Just me? Okay.
Other than Joanna, not many other famous types brought the messy eleganza. Probably because they knew it was going to be so hot, and they just couldn’t be bothered. That, or they knew no matter how foolish they tried to look, they’d be no match for Alan Cumming and his dress CROCS.
Regardless, here’s a bunch of other dresses from last night. And pants! A bunch of ladies wore pants. I don’t really blame them; it’s a lot easier to run back and forth to the bar during commercials if you don’t have to pull 30 lbs of fabric along with you.