Jon Voight is a major Michele Bachmann fanboy and he wishes Catholics believed in reincarnation, because in the next life he wants to be a corn dog so Michele Bachmann can wrap her lips around him. The Queen of the Tea Party’s reign of terror as a member of the US House of Representatives comes to an end this year and the Washington Post (via Jezebel) did a long ass piece on what’s next for her. They talked to Michele Bachmann’s close friend Jon Voight who slobbered out nothing but a stream of praise for her. Just like Marcus Bachmann’s ass at a tea party husbands only soiree, Michele Bachmann’s future is sky high, so says Jon Voight. Jon thinks that Michele is so interesting and amazing that Hollywood should make a movie about her life and he thinks the daughter who hates him so much that she didn’t tell him about her wedding should play Michele.
Actor and close friend Jon Voight said he’d talk to his friends at Fox News on her behalf. As far as he’s concerned, Bachmann is already a star. If there were ever to be a movie about her life, he said, his daughter Angelina Jolie would be great for the part. “Actually, that was not a wise thing for me to say, because her politics are not with Michele,” he said later. “I only wish they would be.”
And Jon Voight is supposed to be one of Michele Bachmann’s biggest fans?! Jon Voight doesn’t know shit and he should shut his mouth. He obviously doesn’t know Michele Bachmann, because St. Angie Jolie does not have what it takes to play her. Michele Bachmann has crazed eye globes that can burn a new hole into your body (“Why do you think I married her?” – Marcus Bachmann) and the edges of souls have caught on fire from the glares shooting out of her irises. If any kid of Jon Voight’s has what it takes to play Michele Bachmann, it’s James Haven:
I know, I just outed myself as Mimi’s in-home Photoshop expert thanks to that professional and perfect piece of work I threw up.
The Palin family’s drunken, messy, sloppy, snowmobile tussle is truly the trashy gift that keeps on giving.
The other day, audio came out of the Camo Duchess of Wasilla, Bristol Palin, crying out to the police after her family was involved in a booze-fueled fight at a snowmobile party in Anchorage. TMZ also posted pictures of Bristol’s LIFE-THREATENING (not at all) cuts and bruises. There’s been several versions of what happened. Some says that the Palins started it and others (read: The Mama Grizzly Gang) says that the Palins are the innocent victims in all of this. Bristol, a lifelong card carrying member of the victim club, farted out a blog post (via UsWeekly) about this SCANDAL and of course, she writes that her family is innocent and the “liberal media” is only dragging the story out because they’re conservatives. Bristol wonders if we even heard about Joe Biden’s coke-snorting son getting kicked out of the Navy for Lohan’ing it or the story about Chelsea Clinton’s fraudster father-in-law. Um, Bristol should take a tip from her mom and read ALL the papers, because those stories were covered.
Shia LaBeouf’s “Method Acting” Is The Reason Why He Got Fired From A Broadway Play And Ended Up In Jail
Seen above looking like a dirty hot, dick jelly-ridden hitchhiker that you picked up one night and had messy fuck times with in a motel room before waking up the next morning to find out that he stole your car and gave you crabs, Shia LaBeouf tells Interview Magazine (via Page Six) that “method acting” is what led him to a jail cell and is what got him pink-slipped from the Broadway play Orphans. When Shia got fired from Orphans for being difficult and he started terrorizing homeless guys in Times Square, some blamed it on Shia being Shia and others blamed it on booze, the bad shit or a mental breakdown. Shia tells Interview that the only drug to blame is AC-TING! It took him a while, but Shia finally played the Joaquin Phoenix card.
Blake Lively’s baby bump made its red carpet debut at the God’s Love We Deliver Golden Heart Awards in NYC last night. (Yes, I hate the shit out of myself for typing that sentence.) Blake proved that the only things you need to make a stunning maternity gown are a bunch of pairs of saggy granny hose you curated from vintage lingerie stores, artisanal glitter and homemade glue. If this was Preserve.us, I’d describe that dress as looking like a redolent field of lavender flowers harmoniously pirouetting through the pellucid air as the spry wind titillates their petals. Actually, I think I’ve written that same sentence when talking about Shauna Sand’s twat.
Because she’s the fashion icon of our time, the future mommy blogger of your nightmares (and my dreams because think of the gold foolery she’s going to deliver) was asked by People what her “pregnancy style” is going to be. Blake is just going to take ten yards of Spandex, cut a hole for her head in it, throw it over her body and call it a day. Ten yards of Spandex is the only thing that will fit her fatty fatty fat fat fucking fatty fat fat body. If Blake keeps getting so big, she’ll have to turn Preserve.us into a blog about jam.
“Have you seen me?!” the expectant actress joked to PEOPLE of her growing baby belly.
“I’m gonna amp up my style by wearing things that are stretchier,” the one-time Gossip Girl star, who wore an oleander and lilac embroidered stretch tulle gown from the Michael Kors Resort 2015 collection, told PEOPLE. “Because that’s all that fits!”
I am seeing you, Blake, and your belly looks the way my bloated gut would if I went on a 10-day laxative fast, did crunches 3 hours a day and spent a few hours sitting in that I Love Lucy sauna. But you know, Blake truly is a fashion icon who gives great fashion advice. I was just about to write Hanes and beg them to please make empire waist t-shirts for men, but now I know that covering my gut with stretchy stuff is the way to go. I can totally wear that Spandex tank top in my drawer now.
RIP that field of greens. Because 30 minutes after this picture was taken, those greens were nothing but ash in Brad Pitt’s bong.
Brad Pitt is on the cover of Details to whore out that movie whose title I always read as Furry (Side note: What the world really needs is a war movie starring Furries) and he gets deep. Well, as deep as Brad Pitt can go. Brad takes a page out of Kristen Stewart’s Book of Deep Thoughts by saying that the soul-stealing paparazzi are stealing his bliss and he also farts at the mouth about how he’s not a shitty dad.
Seen above looking frazzled, worn out and tired after spending 10 long minutes telling the weekday morning chef how to properly make a quinoa, flaxseed and cloudberry breakfast tart for Apple and Moses (the plight of a working mother), Goopy Paltrow hosted a Democratic National Committee Fundraiser in the backyard of the Haus of GOOP in Brentwood last night. When she wasn’t GOOPing in her $900 French silk chonies over President Obama, she continued to be the Norma Rae of our time by fighting for the working class!
Buzzfeed says that 250 guests, including Julia Roberts and Bradley Whitford, paid anywhere from $1,000 to $32,400 to watch President Obama speak. Actually, I don’t think anybody “watched” him speak since their eyeballs rolled onto their freshly baked wood-burned pizzalets when Goopy Paltrow mouth farted out her usual shit while introducing him. Ever since Goopy got an ocean full of diarrhea dropped on her for saying that she, a famous millionaire, has it so much harder than regular 9 to 5 working moms, she’s been pedaling hard on the damage control cycle. While introducing Obama last night, Goopy pulled a Goopy. via the NYDN
“Paltrow cited sustainable energy efforts as well as Obama’s push for equal pay, which she called ‘Very important to me as a working mother.’”
Bitch always has to find a way to GOOP it up. She was fine until she threw in “as a working mother.” Goopy really knows the trials and tribulations of your average working mother. I mean, Goopy has to shoot one whole film a year to pay all the au pairs, chefs, chauffeurs, tutors, nutritionists, acupuncturists and butlers who take care of her two children. The other day, Goopy had to tell her contractor to do the pool in Capri in Carrara marble instead of crushed diamond tiles because she has to cut the budget. Goopy is barely making ends meet! Do something about this, Obama!
Goopy then gushed from every orifice as she flirted with Obama. Buzzfeed says these words came out of her mouth:
- “I am one of your biggest fans, if not the biggest.”
- “It would be wonderful if we were able to give this man all of the power that he needs to pass the things that he needs to pass.”
- “You’re so handsome that I can’t speak properly.”
Um, but does she ever speak properly? Since the sight of Obama makes Goopy almost speechless, we now know that the quickest way to get her to shut the fuck up is to show her a picture of Obama.
Because I want to post this Mona Lisa of GIFS as much as possible, this is what Martha Stewart did to Goopy Paltrow a few weeks ago:
The Grand Dame of Verbal Shade and the self-proclaimed inventor of lifestyle’n basically pulled some “Stay in your lane, bitch” shit on Goopy Paltrow when she was asked what she thinks of Goopy trying to be the new her. Martha wrapped her prison bitch grip around the mop of straw on Goopy’s head, dragged her to a chair and pushed her bony ass into it by saying, “She just needs to be quiet. She’s a movie star. If she were confident in her acting, she wouldn’t be trying to be Martha Stewart.”
I see Psychologies Magazine subtly coming at newlywed Brad Pitt by putting that “Why do you really want to get married?” cover line next to him.
In case you didn’t already know, Brad Pitt and St. Angie Jolie have kids. Like some people who have kids, they love their kids and really, really, REALLY, really love talking about how much they love their kids. Brangie is that bitch on Facebook who posts cheesy open poems to their baby who can’t read yet and always goes on about how they’re thinking of having their angel son’s DNA tested because they’re beginning to think he’s the biological child of the sun, moon and stars. But since St. Angie and Brad aren’t on Facebook (that us peons know of) they have to drool about being parents during interviews. The world is their Facebook.
While talking to Psychologies Magazine (via E! News) about his new movie Fury, Brad Pitt dribbled out verbal streams of syrupy love about being a father.
Seen here doing lazy Butterfly-era Bratz doll drag, Ariana Grande (aka Frankie Grande’s mega mega pop star sister) recently told Us Weekly that even though there’s a rumor going around that simply uttering the name Mariah Carey around her precious mega pop star ears will make her jump you from behind and try to choke you out with her polyester ponytail, it’s totally not true! Her Royal Highness Princess Ponytail loves Mariah Carey and she loves when you refer to her as the bratty low-budget mall version of Mimi!
“Mariah has been a huge influence on me since I was a little girl. I’ve even done a cover of one of her songs. I don’t think there are any negatives to being compared to one of the greatest vocalists of all time. It’s honestly a great honor.”
I hope Weavearella has a good dentist, because she probably broke 7 teeth clenching her jaw too hard when she said that. “It. Is. A. Great. Honor (crunch crunch crunch).” But really, there’s no way that’s actually what Ariana Grande said. It’s not dripping with entitled polyester cunt fumes and arrogant baby stripper smugness. It’s like a bad translation. Thankfully I’m fluent in Toddler Bullshit, so this is probably closer to what she originally said:
“Mariah has been a huge influence on me since I was a lil’ sexy fetus practicing my stripper moves in my mom’s womb, aka she is super old. I’ve covered one of her songs, but just one, because I’d feel bad upgrading everything she’s ever done. I don’t think there are any negatives to being compared to her, but then again, I haven’t really given it much thought, because I’m too busy being a mega mega pop star.”
There, that sounds more like her! All that’s missing is the Baby Lucifer look in her eyes that says “Oh, you WILL pay for asking me about she-who-must-not-be-named. FRANKIE! Come here and bring a balaclava that will fit over all your dumb hair – I have a job for you.“
I should’ve warned you in my headline and I hope it’s not too late, but do not stare directly at the maniacal double twinkle in Paula Deen’s eyes or your soul will emulsify and spend the rest of eternity stuck in her arteries.
After Paula Deen’s Kingdom of Butter crumbled, melted and dripped down into the gutter last year when all that racist stuff she did and said came out, she took her Country Crock tears to Today and delivered a melodramatic, theatrical performance where she cried as though she was auditioning for a novella and painted herself as the martyr of all martyrs. I expected Paula to stick herself to a cross made of mantequilla and sing “The Crucifixion” from Jesus Christ Superstar. Well, the second leg (or is it the third?) of Paula’s national apology tour started up again this morning on Today.