Anna Wintour Admits That Putting Kim And Kanye Kardashian On The Kover Of Vogue Was A Stunt Queen Move
When Anna Wintour put the Cheap n’ Tacky Twins on the cover of VOGUE seven months ago, most of us assumed it was because she was getting sick of waking up every morning to 30 new voice mail messages left by Kanye West that start with him begging her to help him turn his porn star-turned-reality star girlfriend into a high klass lady, and end with him crying “IT’S NOT FAIR! I WANT IT!”
But it turns out it actually had nothing to do with Kanye throwing a tantrum or a kall from Kim Kardashian’s agent, Lucifer H. Satan. During an interview with Alina Cho for Fashionista at the MET on Monday night, Anna Wintour admitted that she put the Cheap n’ Tacky Twins on the cover of VOGUE because she knew it would be controversial and get VOGUE some much-needed attention. Then she made buttholes everywhere pucker with delight when she hissed this perfectly wonderful air-kiss to the drowsy hooker queen and her current husband:
“I think if we just remain deeply tasteful and just put deeply tasteful people on the cover, it would be a rather boring magazine! Nobody would talk about us. It’s very important that people do talk about us.”
At first I wanted to kick out a chair and tell that penis head haired-looking trick to take a seat for using those two dumb fame whores to get attention, but then she came in like a cunty cloud and threw that beautiful shade and I melted into a puddle of happiness. I always forget how devastating a good backhanded compliment can be! It’s easy to call Kim Kardashian a tacky trampy plastic-assed narcoleptic-faced hooker, but it takes a bitch working at a whole ‘nother level to describe her as “not deeply tasteful“.
If only Pink, the orphan Kim wanted to adopt from Thailand, had read Anna’s interview before she spoke to The Daily Mail about not wanting to get adopted into that family of fame-humping trash. Instead of saying “It wouldn’t be good for me“, she could have said “I’m not ready to drop out of school and become a full-time fame whore, so it wouldn’t be good for Kim and Pimp Mama Kris.”
Here’s Kim looking like a factory second Real Doll and wearing another rubber skirt while hustling her new toilet water (sorry, eau de toilette) in Australia:
Last night, a YouTube clip of pimp-mom-in-training Kim Kartrashian walking to a van in Paris without North West made the rounds and some think she forgot her kid in her hotel. In the clip, Kummy Cakes, who looks like a rotting cranberry cream cheese log that was nibbled on by worms, does the pap walk to her van, stops for a second and makes a checklist in her head. “10 Louis Vuitton suitcases full of Spanx? CHECK! A trunk with my back-up silicone ass in it? CHECK! Kanye’s breast chafing cream? CHECK! Hmmm, what else? What else? Um, whatshername? SHIT!” Kim strolls back into the hotel and gets North West who was obviously hiding under a sofa while wishing that the weird plastic lady would forget her so she can grow up in that hotel and be raised by mice.
So some think Kim almost drove off to the airport without North. But the fame whore doth protest. Kim queefed up a denial on Twitter after she heard the BREAKING NEWS STORY on the radio (read: She watched the video 25 seconds after it was posted on YouTube while North West tried to escape from Pimp Mama Kris’ lair through Khloe’s doggy door):
Heard on the radio today some story I forgot my daughter at our hotel as I’m leaving for the airport. Are you kidding me?!?!?! LOL I went to the car to make sure the car seat was in because the day before we had a car seat issue. Do u guys really think a 1year old would be inside the lobby by herself!Oh wait she was waiting to check out lol
Some bitches are so ridiculous. Like Kim would really forget her baby. Kim would never forget her must-have fashion accessory of the season! Kim was just doing what she learned from the fame whore master. She did one solo pap stroll before doing another stroll with her living, breathing fashion accessory. Pimp Mama Kris taught her well. But I’m sure she’ll forget North in a hotel next season when babies are out as fashion accessories and albino parrots are in.
Jack from Perth, Australia slept on the street overnight to be the first person
in the world Australia Perth at that Apple store to get the new iPhone 6 and a quick second after he had that priceless nerd jewel (which will be obsolete and a relic in 6 months when the iPhone 7 comes out) in his hands, he dropped it while showing it to a reporter. The way that crowd dramatically let out an “ooooooooh.” You’d think Jack dropped something extremely precious like a baby or a donut. When it slipped out of the box, I expected time to move in slow motion and as Jack contemplated suicide over the thought of his newborn iPhone shattering on the concrete, dozens of fanboys in the crowd would throw themselves on the sidewalk to protect civilization’s greatest creation.
But you know, something in the Victoria Bitter ain’t clean about this. What kind of crazy, hardcore Apple fanboy opens up his new iPhone 6 on the STREET? Every self-respecting crazy, hardcore Apple fanbitch leaves the store with their new iPhone 6 while protected by two rented armed guards and after they escort him home in an armored vehicle, he barricades his front door, closes all the curtains and gently lays his new baby on a freshly cleaned velvet cloth before he blesses it with a worn Steve Jobs turtleneck he bought on eBay and jacks off while pressing the play button for the first time. He would never share that intimate and religious moment with a bunch of strangers.
I didn’t see any tears and he didn’t immediately kiss his iPhone 6 while screaming, “I almost lost you! I almost lost you!” FAKE! That shit was obviously a publicity stunt produced by Apple. When I played that clip on my ancient iPhone 5s, I asked Siri, “Siri, is this shit staged and fake,” and she didn’t say a word. Bitch must’ve signed a non-disclosure.
During one of the last shows of her and Jay-Z’s Stunt Queen Spectacular World Tour in Paris, Beyonce dropped her mic and kind of sort of forgot to keep lip-synching. If this was a lip-synch for your life, bitch would’ve committed lip-synch suicide. I’m sure the BumbleBeys will scream and say that she’s singing with a backing track and it’s impossible for her to sing all out, because the ears of us mere mortals cannot take her all-powerful nightingale angel voice. But I know what’s really going on here. Not only is Beyonce a master performer, a master singer, a master actress (HA), a master mother, a master wig wearer, a master credit taker, a master copy + paster, a master stunt artiste and a master (insert everything I missed here which is a million miles long since she’s a master at everything), but she’s also a master ventriloquist. Beyonce can sing out in her full singing voice without moving her lips. She does this so she can bless her BumbleBeys in the front row with her holy smile. Beyonce is THAT talented. I bet Miss Ohio is her coach.
I had to put the video behind the cut, because it embeds all wonky on the main page. Blame the Illuminati.
The story of the beautiful-faced delicate porcelain elf figurine Orlando Bloom scrappin’ with ass tampon Justin Bieber is already a pile of ridiculousness, but more layers of weird keep being added to it. When TMZ first reported this mess, they said that Orlando was the one who started it by throwing a failed punch at the Biebs’. A second later, it was reported that the less butch Anybodys from West Side Story started it by spitting out the line, “She (Miranda Kerr) was good,” when Orlando Bloom walked by his table. Now, former Spanish journalist (aren’t we all former Spanish journalists?) Anastasia Skolkova tells The Mirror (via The Daily Mail) that Orlando and the Biebs fought twice and practically everyone was on Team Legolas except for the Biebs’ bodyguards who are paid to pretend they are on his team even though they were probably clapping for Orlando on the inside.
A bunch of famous whores, including Leonardo DiCaprio, Lindsay Lohan and Diddy, were at Cipriani’s in Ibiza that morning and when the junior high school cafeteria fight broke out, they all took their places on Orlando’s side. Anastasia claims that Leonardo clapped for Orlando and Lindsay Lohan laughed at the Biebs. Even though Leo has probably been on Miranda Kerr’s Kewpie doll poon, it makes sense for him to clap for Orlando, because he hates the Biebs more than pizza. Anastasia put it like this:
“Justin said something when he came in which was aimed at Orlando, who then jumped onto a sofa to try and get at Justin. When Orlando punched Bieber, everyone started clapping. Lindsay was laughing. It was amazing. The whole table he and DiCaprio were on were clapping. Afterwards, I don’t know if people were congratulating Orlando or trying to calm him down. When security saw that when they got separated, Bieber and Orlando tried to punch each other again, security were like, ‘Bieber came, Bieber provoked this fight’, so they took his hands behind his back and took him away from the restaurant.”
I’m a little disappointed that Leonardo didn’t finish the Biebs off by knocking that trick down with one of his hot Kung-Fu kicks. Leo probably figured it was wrong for him to get involved in a fight between two delicate and fragile woodland nymphs.
This story just keeps getting more bizarre. I’m sure that by Monday someone will report that Orlando shot Justin Bieber in the face with an arrow and afterward, Tupac gave him a victory fist bump and as he was walking out, Elvis pat him on the back while sitting on a unicorn that whistled out the Rocky theme song.
And when Lindsay Lohan laughs at you, you have officially found the crawlspace under Hell’s basement. You’ve fallen so low and so hard that not even Life Alert can save you.
Here’s Orlando dealing with the humiliation of punching at the Biebs and missing by hugging on Erica Packer on a yacht in Formentera, Spain. Erica is the ex-wife of Australian billionaire James Packer who Miranda Kerr has been doing for a while, but who isn’t Miranda Kerr doing?
Well, if anything can make the world temporarily join together and slow clap while cackling, it’s this. Both TMZ and The Daily Mail say that Orlando Bloom, who I always thought was as gentle as a butterfly sitting on a hippie’s flower crown, tried to punch the faux hood Kid Sister doll that is Justin Bieber at Cipriani in Ibiza early Wednesday morning. I know, we really shouldn’t be slow clapping for Orlando Bloom and I’m not saying that because he almost committed douche toddler abuse. I’m saying it, because he missed. YOU HAD ONE JOB, ORLANDO!
Some source tells The Daily Mail that 37-year-old Orlando is the one who started shit with the 4-year-old chunky, dried skid mark clinging to humanity’s saggy chonies. There’s a rumor that Miranda Kerr passed her poon to the Biebs (Side note: And suddenly I have sucio images of a Kewpie Doll with hair rubbing on a Baby Alive doll) while she was married to Orlando and Orlando might’ve revenged fucked Selena Gomez. Miranda Kerr is probably the reason why Legolas wanted to knock the Cabbage Patch doll stuffing out of the Biebs. The source spit this out:
“Justin was being cordial, and everything was fine. But then Orlando was annoyed when he saw it was Justin and instigated by taking a swing at Justin. Justin ducked, and Orlando’s punch missed. People intervened, some minor pushing, then they were separated. Justin stayed for a while after.”
TMZ says that when the Biebs ducked Orlando’s punch, he shouted, “What’s up bitch?” The crowd apparently started cheering and clapping when the Biebs left.
This junior high school quad bullshit. Normally I’d say that Orlando Bloom is re-defining “too old for this shit,” but you’re never too old to slap the smugness out of Justin Bieber. I’ve always said that he needs to feel the wrath of an abuelita’s chancleta. But really, the one who should be throwing the punches here is Miranda Kerr and she should be throwing punches at her own face for sexing on Justin Bieber. Nasty Mary Kay Letourneau ass trick.
Here’s the video from TMZ which starts right after Orlando tried to fist the Biebs. It’s so blurry that it could be Punky Brewster screaming at Barbara Hershey with a bob for all we know.
UPDATE: And the Biebs yanked at Orlando’s curls by Instramming (and then deleting) this:
I haven’t watched the first episode of LeAnn Rimes and Eddie Cibrian’s “semi-scripted” dried turd of reality show on Vh1, because I am a disgusting, gross, easy pig slut when it comes to TV (and everything else) and I should try to have SOME standards. I recorded LeAnn & Eddie, though, and when I’ve gone into my DVR to play an episode of quality television like Dating Naked and Topless Prophet on Cinemax, it stares at me like a wet, oozing herp sore on a short, soft peen. I can’t bring myself to watch it. Apparently, I’m not alone, because Deadline says that the first episode of The Home Wrecking Squints was watched by 374,000 viewers. To put that number into perspective, Grumpy Cat was on QVC at 7 in the morning yesterday and more hos probably watched that shit (and sadly, I was one of those hos). LeAnn & Eddie were beat by Dog with a Blog, an episode of Seinfeld and COPS. Deadline says that Vh1′s Dating Naked got 826,000 viewers, but when LeAnn Rimes’ “melting Play-Doh figurine of a demon pony” face popped up after it, everyone turned their TVs off.
The rest of VH1’s new programming on VH1 might have wanted to strip down a bit to do better. Coming after the 551,000 who watched the debut of Candidly Nicole, the 10:30 premiere of Leann And Eddie was seen by a total 374,000 audience of 374,000. The former was up 51% from last quarter among the 18-49s with 325,000 watching while the later up just 19% over the last quarter’s average in the time slot with 252,000 viewers in the demo.
To recap: more than twice the number of hos who suffered through LeAnn & Eddie watched a show with a bunch of naked people. For the love of humanity’s eyeballs, don’t let that give Falkor ideas!!! (Eddie, okay, but not Falkor!) And poor Eddie’s probably going to have to take his side pieces to the Super 8 instead of the Hilton. LeAnn probably cut his allowance, because she needed the money to buy 374,000 TVs and 374,000 different cable connections. You didn’t think 374,000 actual people watch that wreck, did you?
And here’s Falkor looking like a horse skeleton in lazy Stevie Nicks drag while protecting the peen she paid for at the Luli Fama fashion show in Miami yesterday.
Why do I have a feeling that the ivory key he’s tickling in that picture doesn’t belong to the piano?
To promote his embarrassing album of songs dedicated to getting his wife Paula Patton back, Robin Thicke continued to show us that dignity is no friend of his by talking about his love for her in interview after interview. Robin Thicke re-defining “pathetic” while whoring out his album really paid off and by that I mean it didn’t pay off at all. In its first week of sales, Paula sold 24,000 copies in the US, 530 copies in the UK, 550 copies in Canada and less than 54 COPIES in Australia. It has gone triple used condom worldwide! News.com.au says that the album that has given stalkers motivation to be more stalker-ey didn’t even crack the Top 500 in Australia and a Blondie compilation album, which came in at #500, sold 54 copies. So Robin’s album sold less than that. Sales outside of the Top 500 aren’t registered, so Robin’s album could’ve sold 1 copy in Australia for all we know. Robin’s Blurred Lines album debuted at No. 1 in Australia and sold 117,000 copies in its first week in the US.
To put Paula’s numbers into perspective, Alan Thicke’s “Sweaty And Hot” sold 89 copies in Bulgaria last week and it hasn’t dropped out of the Top 10 there since its debut in 1998. (Okay, I made that up, but I’m probably not lying.)
But my question is, if that stalker mess of an album sold 54 copies in Australia, who were the 54 people who actually bought it? If you tracked down who bought that album, you’d find 54 Australians who need serious psychological help, because they obviously don’t love themselves and are looking for horrific ways to harm themselves. HELP THEM! Or you’d find 54 medical professionals who are using it to treat comatose patients. Because studies show that if you play Paula for comatose patients, there’s a 100% chance that they’ll wake up to cringe.
If your b-hole is still recovering from the warm tingles it got after hearing about Leonardo DiCaprio refusing to share the same air with the Keeping Up With The Kardashians kamera krew at a party two weeks ago, then you better stop reading right now, because this story will make you feel like you sat on a dildo made of Extra Strength Icy Hot. Star says that while he was in Cannes last month, Leo decided to catch some hos at Gotha nightclub (don’t get excited; I checked, and, no, it’s not a Gothika-themed nightclub). As it so happened, the toilet-clogging used tampon of Canada Justin Bieber was also in the same club, most likely searching for someone to warm his bottle and read Goodnight Moon.
According to a source (hey Lukas Haas!) a shirtless Justin spotted Leo from across the room and had his bodyguard push through the crowd to get to where Leo was sitting with his harem of bony 20-year-old models in the VIP area. Justin’s bodyguard (the toughest 4th grader he knows) then asked Leo if he’d be interested in pulling up a highchair and letting Baby Bieber join him at his table. Of course, Leo would rather fuck an underwear model from the Sears catalogue than spend two seconds with Vanilla Ice Cream Cone, so he shook his head “OF COURSE NOT, BITCH” and shooed his bodyguard away. In case you didn’t glean that Leo has as much use for a Bieber as he does a Kardashian, the source says this:
“He thinks Justin’s a little twit. Leo doesn’t want or need photo ops with publicity-hungry, manufactured pop stars.”
As if. The real reason Leo didn’t want that swaggy tonsil stone around is because that greedy pussy-hoarder was afraid Justin would swoop in with his sessy dirt stache and snatch up one of his beloved Victoria’s Secret Angels, forcing Leo to sleep on a bed of 7 naked models instead of his regular 8 that evening. Even though they only weight about 90 lbs each, if one of his pretty panty hustlers is missing from the pile, he has to re-arrange them all and move the blonde one from the bottom and the other blonde one to the middle, and it’s impossible for him to get a good night’s sleep if he’s playing Pussy Tetris all night long.
Let’s play a quick game of Would You Rather. Would you rather…be invited to a party thrown by Justin Bieber that you HAVE to go to, or invite Paris Hilton to a party you’re throwing that she will definitely show up to. Okay, I’ll start with the first question: Am I allowed to kill myself? No? Fine, I’ll pick going to the Justin Bieber party, but only because kid’s parties usually have cake and pizza, and I can ignore that brat long enough to get some cake and pizza.
Paris Hilton, on the other hand, must not like pizza (“I don’t eat stuff that reminds me of what I see when I stand naked over a mirror”) because TMZ says that she couldn’t stand more than half an hour at a party thrown by Justin Bieber in Cannes. It all started when Vanilla Ice Cream Cone and 2005′s slimy stinky thong were partying together at a nightclub in Cannes. They got along really well (a witness claimed to have seen Paris crawl onto Bieber’s lap, aaaaaaand I just vomited) eventually deciding to leave the club with 50 of their
parasitic paid leeches friends, and make their way back to Baby Bieber’s rented French club house.
Justin then decided to show Paris that she wasn’t the only shitty DJ in the house by hitting play on his iPod, except he must have forgotten to load more music after his bodyguard deleted all the Wiggles songs earlier that day (“It’s making him too rowdy”) because the only thing he played was his own music. After half an hour, she decided the party was lame and left. It took her half an hour to figure that out?? Jizz-rot truly is a hell of a disease. At least now she knows what it’s like to go to one of her own shows.
And in case the mental image of a skanky lizard slithering onto the lap of a busted My Buddy doll wasn’t enough to give you the heaves, here’s a shirtless Justin toddling around the Boulevard de la Croissette. Pardon my French, but I’d happily give somebody €50 to pousser ce petit shithead dans l’eau pour moi.