Paula Deen just made a mental note to only get $50 bills from the ATM in the future…
Politico says that United States Treasury Secretary Jack Lew will announce that Andrew Jackson (FYI: AJ was the 7th POTUS and not the unknown 6 member of the Jackson 5) is out as the main face of the $20 bill and Harriet Tubman is in. I’m surprised Sofia Vergara isn’t the new face of the $20 bill since that trick is the face of EVERYTHING. Andrew Jackson isn’t totally off of the $20 bill. There’s a good chance his face will be moved to the back of the bill. Ha.
The Pulitzer Prizes were announced today and if The Daily Mail and The Sun were American publications, they would’ve swept the hell out of every single category including Drama. But luckily for Lin-Manuel Miranda, they’re not, so he easily became a Pulitzer winner today when the musical he wrote Hamilton won the prize in Drama. Even Miss Cleo could’ve predicted this. The chances of Hamilton losing out on the Pulitzer today were about as slim as me being able to get a ticket to Hamilton before the year 2021.
Playbill says that Hamilton is the 10th musical to ever win the Pulitzer. It joins Next To Normal (2010), Rent (1996), Sunday in the Park with George (1985), A Chorus Line (1976), How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying (1962), Fiorello (1960), South Pacific (1950), Of Thee I Sing (1932) and Showgirls The Musical (2013). Okay, that last one wasn’t ever made official and mostly because the Pulitzer people knew that if they declared it the winner, they’d have to shut down the category forever since nothing would ever top it.
Lin-Manuel has been tweeting about his win, but this tweet made the chipped ice block in my chest feel emotions for a second:
*Gets in time machine, grabs 12 year old me by the face*
IT GETS SO GOOD KID, JUST HANG IN THERE https://t.co/PhTYBC6aV8
— Lin-Manuel Miranda (@Lin_Manuel) April 18, 2016
This post also goes out to my Hamilton-a-loonie friend who has probably already held a funeral for our dead ass friendship. I didn’t know how hardcore obsessed he was with Hamilton until a couple of weeks ago when I said that everyone on my Facebook feed has been slobbering about it for months, and I get it, it’s the best thing to happen to us since Zima. I didn’t even say anything remotely bad, but damn, you’d think that I stole his car and used it to run over all of his loved ones while calling his dog a cunt. Ain’t no love like Hamilton love!
In that picture, the part of me is being played by the cross-eyed dude on the left making a “Can you believe these wrecks?” face.
As most of you know, I am a 12-year-old trapped in the body of a grown skinny fat gay dude. I have the maturity of one (no offense to the maturity of a 12-year-old), the humor of one and like many of them, I am glued to my phone like it’s more important than any of my internal organs (and it is). I hardly misplace my phone, but when I do, I want to call the police and beg them to issue an AMBER ALERT on that bitch. Because if they did, my own phone would scream out that loud AMBER ALERT alarm and I’d be able to find it.
But even though my hands are stuck to my phone like it’s a 9″ peen, I still let it go and put it away when I’m at the movies. But some tricks can’t do that and there’s always at least one rude bitch who has to annoy everyone in their area with a douche signal (aka a beam of light shooting off of a cell phone in a dark movie theater). AMC obviously knows that some inconsiderate messes can’t resist the urge to text during a movie and yesterday, they thought out loud about possibly letting those chronic texters text in some theaters. It went over as well as a wet fart during a salad tossing.
When it was announced way back in January that Netflix was rebooting Gilmore Girls, most people figured Melissa McCarthy was far too famous and busy for that shit and the part of Sookie St. James would probably end up being played by a DVD of Tammy in a wig. Hell, even Gilmore Girls creator Amy Sherman-Palladino figured she’d be too busy, so she didn’t bother asking her to come back and be a part of it. A little while later, Melissa admitted that someone did eventually call her up about it, but that scheduling conflicts were preventing her from slipping into her chef’s coat and hot kerchief.
Well, it looks like you can go ahead and pop a bottle of sparkling coffee and crank the Paul Anka up to 11 (yes I just outed myself as a Gilmore Girls nerd), because Melissa McCarthy confirmed that she will be back for the Gilmore Girls reboot during a taping of Ellen yesterday.
Melissa is a huge Academy Award-nomiated STAR! now, so I don’t know what this means for the Gilmore Girls reboot budget. All I can say is that they better have enough money left over to bring back the two brightest celestial beings of Stars Hollow. A Gilmore Girls reboot is nothing without the Marlboro-voiced sun-bleached unicorn Babette and her sassy sidekick Miss Patty.
Here’s Melissa McCarthy and her husband Ben Falcone in New York earlier this week while working the press circuit for that Martha-with-roid-rage movie The Boss.
Pics: The WB, Wenn.com
Bill Cosby Charged With Aggravated Assault And An Arrest Warrant Has Been Issued (Update With Mug Shot!)
Bill Cosby and Elmo… Two disgusting and nasty trashy peas in a disgusting and nasty pod.
A belated Christmas miracle happened today. The Pennsylvania District Attorney charged Bill Cosby with aggravated assault, a felony, for allegedly drugging and sexually assaulting Andrea Constand in 2004. Andrea Constand, who was the operations manager of Temple University’s women’s basketball team at the time, says that the fallen Puddin’ Pop kingpin drugged and raped her at his home in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania in January 2004.
In 2002, Canadian-American daffodil Pamela Anderson publicly said that she got Hep C from sharing a tattoo needle with Tommy Lee. (Tommy Lee smashed Pamela’s claims with his monster dick by saying that he didn’t give her Hep C and he doesn’t have Hep C.) Pamela told People in August that her doctors put her on a new FDA-approved drug regimen that rids the virus from a patient’s blood stream. I didn’t know that Hep C was curable, but the NYDN says that a patient is considered “cured” if no traces of the virus are found in their blood in the three to six months after they finished that drug regimen. Pamela said in August that the drugs weren’t giving her any side effects and she hoped she’d be Hep C-free in a month. On Saturday, Pamela screamed from the top of Instagram that Hep C has left her body and since she’s Pamela Anderson, she celebrated the news by gracing the eyes of her followers with a throwback picture of her bare ass on a boat.
I am CURED!!! – I just found out #nomorehepc #thankyou #blessing #family #prayer #live I pray anyone living with Hep C can qualify or afford treatment. It will be more available soon. I know treatment is hard to get still…#dontlosehope #itworkedforme #thereisacure #love #happy #americanliverfoundation #celebration #Idontknowwhattodo #iwanttohelp #cannes #iloveboats #onthesea #free
Now that Pamela Anderson is free of Hep C, she can work on curing herself of committing first-degree hashtag abuse.
Sure, Pamela Anderson would celebrate ANYTHING by posting a naked ass picture of herself. If she found that sock she thought she lost in the dryer, she’d celebrate by posting a naked picture. If she got a coupon for the medium-point Sharpie pens she uses to paint on her exquisite eyebrow situation, she’d celebrate by posting a naked picture. But there’s really no other way to celebrate getting rid of the sicks than by posting a picture of your naked ass. I’ve been bitching about allergies screwing with me and it seems like they finally left me (for now), so I was going to take a tip from Pammy by tweeting a celebratory naked picture of me with the hashtags #nomorehives #thankyouclaritin. But I know that picture would induce heaves in a major way and I don’t want everyone suing me for making them use all their sick days.
The news in this post has nothing to do with Betty White, but when I posted about the Daytime Emmys a few months ago, I missed these extremely important and gorgeous pictures of two human angels. I’m posting them now, because they are vital to your wellbeing and health. And speaking of something that will heal your insides and soothe your soul, here’s the greatest TV news since Matt Boner told us that the new season is filled with plenty of shots of his nalgas:
CHARO GOT A REALITY SHOW!!!!!
The world of reality TV is filled with so much unholiness (see: the Kartrashians and nearly every show on TLC) that it’s about time all that trash is countered with a whole lot of glamour and etherealness. Charo is the holy water that will thrust away the sins of reality TV. As the heavens opened up and the angels sang, Deadline announced that Charo will star in and produce the reality show Charo in Charge for Televisa USA. When I think of the name “Televisa USA,” my brain shits up question marks, but I’m sure it’ll soon be the biggest and most powerful network of all-time thanks to the forever A-list relevancy of Charo!
The series is centered on the multi-generational family’s life in their Beverly Hills compound. “We love Beverly Hills but I think we are the right family in the wrong neighborhood,” says Charo. “All we’re doing is cooking paella in the backyard on an open fire, with my son and his girlfriend and my nephew and his heavy metal friends, my randy dancers in the pool with my gay friends and me and my sister with my bull and my dogs. Why do they keep calling the police?”
Charo in Charge will also star her hot son Shel Rasten, her husband, her sister and her nephew. This is the first portrait of reality TV’s newest and best royal family:
There’s no air date and I don’t even know if it started shooting yet, but I already know that this show will be everything. It has glamour, accents, Charo, hot dudes, a double dose of high ponytails, daytime soap opera styling, goths and unicorn hair. The only thing it needs is Betty White as the drunk and horny neighbor who constantly tries to fuck Charo’s son. Make that last part happen, Televisa USA!
There’s approximately 400 million pics, selfies and videos of Kim Kartrashian’s alien trout mannequin face and other parts that people can get for free on the Internet, so it’s absolutely shocking that everybody didn’t buy a stupid book filled with some of those pictures. I guess that old saying your memaw used to say, “Why buy the cow when you can see it greased up and sprawled out on the Internet for free,” applies to this story.
A rep for Nielsen Bookscan tells Radar that since May, Kim Kartrashian’s “Selfish” has sold a grand total of 32,000 copies. And all 32,000 of those copies are probably sitting in Pimp Mama Kris’ dungeon right next to all 13,000 copies of the Jenner girls’ sci-fi YA novel she bought. Kim has over 41 million Instagram followers and as Radar points out, not even 1% of them bought the book of selfies that should be re-titled “Shelved Fish.”
That represents just 0.8% of Kardashian’s Instagram fans. (*Nielsen BookScan’s U.S. Consumer Market Panel currently covers approximately 85% of the print book market and continues to grow.)
What’s more, the book is a critical flop online. Sitting at 1,607 in books, it’s ranked only 2.5 stars after 661 customer reviews. And those reviews have been scathing.
It’s a damn shame that the millions of fake followers that Kim probably bought aren’t real people with real credit cards who could’ve bought a copy of her book. There needs to be an app for that. But you know, PMK can really turn this around and sell every single copy of that book. All she has to do is re-market it as a pack of designer wee wee pads for puppies. Ray J approved! It’d become a best seller and it’d fly off of the shelves of every Petco!
Here’s Kim at LAX looking as comfortable as ever while wearing extremely wearable maternity clothes by Kanye.
There’s been so much shitty and depressing news around here that we really needed some uplifting news that will give us hope for our future, and leave it to CoCo and Ice-T to give us that. The undisputed Empress of the Camel Toe has announced that growing in her pink rhinestone-encrusted womb is the heir to her and Ice-T’s kingdom of demure elegance. 36-year-old CoCo is pregnant with the baby she made with her 57-year-old husband of 14 years Ice-T. This will be CoCo’s first child and Ice-T already has two grown kids and a 20-year-old grandson (who is currently facing manslaughter charges). It is a good day when we find out that CoCo will teach another human her ways.
While taping her new talk show with Ice-T on Friday, CoCo told the audience that in a few months, her crown jewel of a vagina will release a bundle of preciousness that is more valuable than the cloud of diamond dust she usually queefs out. For those of us who weren’t lucky enough to be at her show’s taping on Friday, CoCo tweeted the news this morning while pushing the premiere date of her new show.
I'm pregnant!!! Yah!! Ice & I are so excited! I announced it Friday on our new talkshow which airs Aug 3rd. pic.twitter.com/CYVHKD5yud
— Coco (@cocosworld) July 27, 2015
With this pregnancy, CoCo is going to clench her title as the undisputed camel toe champion. When she steps out in maternity Spandex leggings, her crotch is going to look like an entire nail salon for camels. CoCo’s pregnant camel toe is going to shut down all camel toes.
And as for the baby’s name…..
Since CoCo and Ice-T both have names that can be found on a Starbucks menu, I’m hoping that they name their little baby friend Chai Latte T.
Thank Jeebus! I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mr. Burns or Otto or Stupid Sexy Flanders just yet. Two months after he declared he was done-diddly-un with The Simpsons, Entertainment Weekly says Harry Shearer has changed his mind and has agreed to return for the 27th season.
Harry Shearer originally decided to walk away from The Simpsons and a $14 million 2-year contract because he wanted the freedom to do other work and didn’t like his cut of the merchandising dollars, but something must have changed during negotiations. My guess was that FOX threatened to release the hounds or the robotic Richard Simmons, but it sounds like it came down to money. EW says that Harry Shearer has signed the exact same contract as everyone else, which means he’s locked in for the next four years and will make more than $300,000 per episode. Each season usually has about 22 episodes, which means Harry Shearer is looking at more than $26.4 million. I hope the first word out of his mouth when he looked at that number was a Mr. Burns-style “Excellent.”
No word on whether or not he’ll see any merchandising money, but I’m sure he could always ask Fat Tony to shake down the folks at Butterfinger for a couple bucks if he really wants them.
A four year contract means a ton of money, but it also means everyone has to stick around if the writers hit the 600 episode mark and really start to run out of ideas. At least they can crawl into a giant pile of dollars in the event they sit down for a table read and see the words “The Simpsons Do…Something. Go to Mars? Buy a kangaroo? IDK” written on the top of the script.