The TL;DR version of Thomas Gibson’s side is basically: I DIDN’T KICK HIM! HIS LEG RAN INTO MY FOOT!
Thomas Gibson’s contract with Criminal Minds was declared null and void last month and he was immediately fired after he allegedly kicked writer-producer Virgil Williams during an on-set fight. It reportedly wasn’t the first time that Thomas acted a wreck during a fight with a co-worker. He allegedly pushed assistant director Ian Woolf during a fight in 2010. Thomas hired lawyers and has been thinking of suing CBS and ABC Studios for wrongly firing him. Thomas was reportedly going to argue that he kicked Virgil in self-defense, but he told a different story to People. Thomas told his side and parts of his side sound like they’re covered in a layer of shit out of a bull’s culo.
The Chainsmokers are an EDM duo and yes, in their case, EDM stands for Extremely Douchey Messes. They currently have the #1 song in the country “Closer” (featuring Halsey) and so Billboard (via Vulture) did a cover story on them. If you or someone you know happens to be suffering from cooch or b-hole odor, just rub your stinky parts all over The Chainsmokers’ Billboard interview and it’ll come out smelling like a fresh Summer’s Eve.
The Chainsmokers (I’m surprised they didn’t call themselves The Chainvapers) are made up of Alex Pall (on the left) and Drew Taggart, and together they have the modesty of Miles Teller and the humbleness of Kanye West. They brag about how they’ve always been hard-up horny all the time, how they’ve earned all the gold stars in boozing and how when their dick tips touch, it becomes a 17.34 inch long centipeen. They’re both like a charisma-less Chad Radwell from Scream Queens on Bod Man-scented roids. I think I’m in love.
Ryan Seacrest, the evil goblin who was born after a satanic leprechaun jizzed on a piece of foil covered with peroxide cream, is reportedly dating a girl. I’ll let Brit Brit Spears, once again, take it from here:
E! News says that the uncanny valley gremlin has got himself a new piece, three years after things ended with Julianne Hough. Their source says that 41-year-old Ryan and 35-year-old model Adriana Lima, who broke up with her hot possum-eyed husband two years ago, went on a “romantic” date at a restaurant called Dell’Anima in NYC over the weekend after hanging out in Rio during the Olympics. The details of this “romantic” date are about as shallow as Ryan’s personality, so we’ll just have to make shit up on our own.
Not since a smallpox hospital burned down in the 1800s has Roosevelt Island seen a bigger disaster than the disaster that went down on Wednesday afternoon. Kanye West showed his latest collection of zombie rags and off-brand Capezio leotards for Yeezy, and it was a hot shit puddle of a mess from start to finish. Some models fainted, others nearly killed their ankles while trying to walk in the busted shoes and some fashion editors left after waiting more than an hour for it to start. Kanye’s collaborator and performance artist Vanessa Beecroft, who is a crazy mess in her own right, says that their shit show started 2 hours late, because it was meant to start 2 hours late, thankyouverymuch.
All together now: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
2016 is not only showing us that it’s the worst year ever, it’s also showing us that it’s the year of redefining ridiculousness. Case in point: Canadian-American sex blossom Pamela Anderson has joined forces with “celebrity rabbi” Schmuley Boteach to write an op-ed piece for The Wall Street Journal about how watching porn is destroying lives! The only thing that porn is responsible for destroying in my life is a keyboard or two, but okay.
I know, Pamela Anderson shaming tricks for watching porn. What’s next? One of the Kartrashians is going to “write” an anti-ass implant op-ed piece for their pay site? John Travolta is going to do a PSA about the dangers of wearing wigs? We can all close our eyes until 2017 because we have seen it all (but I’ll open mine here and there to watch porn).
Famous and non-famous people are hit with death threats and racist shit all the time on social media (example: Leslie Jones), but when poor, little permanent damsel in distress Taylor Swift gets viciously attacked with threatening and scary snake emojis, Instagram drops EVERYTHING to protect her snowflake feelings and crumbling image as America’s sweetheart.
After Kim Kartrashian pulled the sheep’s clothing off of Taylor Swift by exposing her as a liar in several Snapchat videos, Tay’s Instagram page started to look like the inside of Pimp Mama Kris’ Satanic ritual chamber. The comment section of her Instagram posts got covered with zillions of snakes, and instead of laughing it off while enjoying her riches (aka making her low-ranking squad members exfoliate her skin with crushed diamonds and shredded bills), she cried to the principal. Instagram eventually sprinkled reptile poison all over Taylor’s page and the snake emojis disappeared. And now The Times (via The Drum) says that Instagram has given Taylor’s team a tool that allows them to commit hate comment genocide.