Coachella? Never heard of her. Essence Fest, step aside. The biggest and baddest music festival of the decade will be held in next Friday in Detroit, and you’d have to beg, steal, or slap on a wig and borrow somebody else’s identity, if you wanted to attend. Aretha Franklin’s homegoing celebration is scheduled for August 31, and the lineup of artists slated to perform includes Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan, Jennifer Holliday, Jennifer Hudson, Fantasia, and a slew of other superstars from the gospel, classical, R&B worlds.
During a recent Lenny Letter essay titled Time to Uncover, Alicia Keys wrote about how she was taking a break from makeup because she didn’t “want to cover up anymore.” Alicia is clearly very serious about the whole #nomakeup thing, because last night she sashayed onto the red carpet of the BET Awards in a face covered in nothing.
Alicia is one of the very lucky few who can do #nomakeup and still look like a human person. Her skin/eyes/mouth/eyebrows all look like what they’re supposed to. When I do no makeup, I look like something from a remake of Eraserhead by Harmony Korine. My mouth looks like a Biggest Loser before-and after of an awkward pink slug. My eyes like two puffy slits with creepy little see-through lashes. The two patchy hairlike skidmarks above my eyes that can barely be classified as eyebrows (my eyebrows truly bring shame to the Dlisted family). So, good for you for going without makeup, Alicia. And if she really wants to make it a permanent thing, I would volunteer to take any and all makeup she decides to get rid of. I very clearly need it.
Alicia also carried the low-maintenance theme into her ensemble as well.
If you have to suffer through the nastiest and grossest day of the week MONDAY, you might as well do it while staring pictures of the come-to-life Superman action figure Matt Bomer making b-holes howl and pussies slobber while working a tux at the Tonys last night. The real-life Steven Wakefield graduated from Carnegie Mellon and he was at the Tonys to present Carnegie Mellon with something and I didn’t really pay attention, because I was too busy asking myself, “For why is Matt Boner wearing so many clothes? Couldn’t he have paid tribute to Hair instead?!”
Either Matt Boner’s makeup artist forgot to powder his beauty or in NYC it’s more humid than Tyler Perry’s bussy when he flips through the Spirit of Black Men calendar on his office wall. Because Matt Boner is looked lubed-up in the face. I bet the most overheard line at the Tonys last night was, “Matt, you’re looking a little greasy, do you want me to lick that up for you?”
Here’s more of Matt Boner in a tux and pictures of other hos at the Tonys including Fran Drescher giving you Peaches ‘N Cream Barbie’s mom, Maggie Gyllenhaal looking like a disemboweled down comforter and Thalia wearing a shitting prom dress from the late 80s.
When Oprah interviewed Paula Deen for Oprah’s Next Chapter last year, she stayed in the Deen family “guest house” in Georgia and now she knows why the “guest house” was actually a shack in the backyard and why there was an Aunt Jemima costume and a dinner bell lying on her cot. The Mighty O got to know Paula Deen, so at last night’s premiere of Lee Daniels’ The Butler in NYC, everybody with a mic asked her about it. Oprah recently said no friend of hers will ever use the n-word around her, so I’m surprised she didn’t tell reporters, “Paula who? Oh, you mean the Miss Millie whose company I’m going to buy with my play money and DESTROY just for fun?” Oprah told Entertainment Tonight that Paula is not the first white woman to use the n-word and also said that she tried to call Paula’s ass.
“In the very first days I tried to reach her and then I decided to stay out of it as I saw it blowing up. In time she will be fine. For me, it all just felt kind of sad.
Nobody in their right mind is going to call me the N-word. You know, you see those fools on Twitter sometime say ridiculous things. But nobody in their right mind is going to do that to my face, because true racism is being able to have power over somebody else. So that doesn’t happen to me that way.”
That’s Oprah’s way of saying, “I’m God, bitch,” and it’s also Oprah’s way of telling Squeak to come call her a “field nigger” to her face, because she really wants to tit pound that bitch through all the layers of the Earth into Hell.
Here’s more of FroPrah and Ted Head Stedman at last night’s The Butler premiere. I also threw in a bunch of pictures of other hos there including Mimi who showed up wearing a sling that can double as a studded fisting glove.
Liam’s brothers, Thor and the other one, supposedly intervened on his relationship in April, trying to convince him that the porcupine haired chipmunk was no good for him. (In other words, they screamed at him, “For the love of Odin, don’t bind us to that trash family forever!“) Miley and Liam briefly pressed pause on their wedding plans and Miley spent more intimate time with her bong than she did with Liam. Some source says that it’s officially, officially over now.
Everybody better board up their windows and brace themselves, because we all know what’s going to happen next. Miley is going to get with Justin Bieber, get knocked up and unleash a terrifying chimpunk-beaver hybrid on the world. Actually, don’t bother boarding up your windows, because chipmunk-beaver hybrids can chew through a piece of wood from a mile away. We’re all screwed.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Los Angeles, January Jones is doing this:
Score another one for January!
I’m mad that there’s no VCT (visible camel toe), because I really want to see their sparkly camel toes do the Kid ‘n Play dance together.
Some dude with a name like a mid-level law firm (or a name like a Wilson Phillips cover band that only sings Chynna’s parts) won American Idol last night, because easily impressed teenage girls who lose their minds over white boys with guitars are the only tricks voting for that shit, but who cares about that when we’ve got Fantasia and Chaka Khan defying the laws of Spandex and sequins. With the help of an industrial-strength sausage caser, Fantasia and Chaka squeezed into catsuits and showed those amateur whores how suffocating-crotch-glamour is really done. Chaka wins this catsuit fever battle, because she’s Chaka and wins almost everything, but Fantasia gave her a run for her Cameflage. Fantasia looked like a giant gay eel trying to swallow Verdine White whole. Fantasia split that catsuit up the side, because she knows she’s way too much for it to handle and didn’t want it to overexert itself later. That was nice of Fanny.
Wearing that catsuit almost makes me forgive ‘Tasia for putting that discount Halloween store Morticia wig on her head. Almost. And here’s a few more pictures including some of Fantasia flashing her coma titties on the red carpet. Yes, Cher worked that look better almost 40 years ago, but I can’t hate Fantasia for trying.