As with most pictures of Kim Kartrashian, my first reaction to this is:
My second reaction is to slow clap for Kanye West, because just when I think there’s no way he can make his dress-up silicone mannequin doll look more ridiculous, he proves me wrong. Kanye really has a gift for turning nearly everything he touches into busted fuckery. I see him throwing a side-eye that says, “I can’t believe this bitch believed me when I said that bleaching her hair with Sally Hansen creme bleach is high fash-un.”
Kim showed up to the Balmain show in Paris today looking like what you’d get if you mashed up a picture of a drowned, malnourished Afghan hound and a picture of one of the Matrix twins in MorphThing.com. She looks like the least popular and cheapest Rita Ora impersonator (and Rita Ora is already the least popular and cheapest RiRi impersonator). The look is very “piss on Kum.”
In short: I love it!
Canada is now a great, big beautiful Difficult Brown free wonderland! (Not that kind of “difficult brown,” Sinead. You can unpack your bags now.)
Chris Brown, the ingrown hair in America’s right ass lip, was told by Canadian authorities today to take his ass back home when he tried to get in. The Difficult Brown was supposed to play a show in Montreal tonight and a show in Toronto tomorrow. But he tweeted (and quickly deleted) that Canada, the most polite country in the world, told him he’s not welcome and shut the door on his face. It apparently has everything to do with his criminal record. Canada can ban a trick who has been convicted of assault.
Don’t slow clap for Canada just yet. They still gave us Justin Bieber and haven’t taken him back yet. We will never forget that! But seriously, Canada is one step closer to becoming a magical Utopia. Now all they have to do is take away Justin Bieber’s citizenship, ban him, open up an In-N-Out on every corner and declare that their health care system will cover the good shit.
And I wonder who made the call to get Chris Brown on the ban list?
On Kirk Cameron’s shelf of achievements, his Kids Choice Award and People’s Choice Awards are about to get some company. The 35th annual Golden Raspberry Awards were shat out last night and the majority voted Kirk Cameron’s Saving Christmas as the biggest dingle that clung to Hollywood’s dirty asshole hairs last year. Saving Christmas is not only known as the movie that makes Jesus cry and say to himself, “I blame myself for that shit show,” but it’s also now known as a multiple Razzie winner! As Leonardo DiCaprio dries his tears on a Victoria’s Secret model’s (or RiRi’s) vagina lips while stroking his imaginary Oscar statue tonight, Kirk Cameron will be polishing his brand new Razzies. At least someone in the Growing Pains cast is winning awards.
Saving Christmas won Worst Picture, Worst Actor, Worst Screenplay and Worst Screen Combo. Even though it won 4 awards, it didn’t even come close to snatching away Jack & Jill’s record of 10 wins. You’ll be Jack & Jill next time, Kirk. If anyone can find a way to be worse, it’s you. But still, Kirk should celebrate with a Subway sub!
He earned it!
After the cut are the rest of the winners. And after six nominations, Cameron Diaz was finally honored for her contribution to cinematic turds:
And shockingly, it wasn’t from the overwhelming nauseous feeling they got from hearing Gwyneth Paltrow talk about how perfect Gwyneth Paltrow is all evening. It was from food! That’s right, famous cookbook author Gwyneth Paltrow admitted on The Rachael Ray Show (via Glamour) Friday morning that she once made a meal that made everyone fill the 17th century gilded French porcelain toilets in her home with hot barf. Now, I’ve read both of Goopy’s cookbooks, and I’d say that roughly 79% of what I saw gave me the heaves (so many vegetables and not ONE recipe for Frito Pie). But according to Goopy, it wasn’t because she was serving her guests some kind of disgusting pickled heirloom kholrabi over mashed sunchoke bullshit; it was because she screwed up the recipe for eggplant parmesan.
“I went to the store and bought some eggplant, a jar of tomato sauce, and some really rubbery mozzarella cheese. I didn’t know that when you cook eggplant, you first have to sweat it to get all the bitter juice out, and I didn’t realize that you also have to bread eggplant parmesan and fry it before. So I put slices of raw eggplant with jarred tomato sauce and mozzarella. And everyone threw up.”
Goopy then added “…and I don’t blame them; I too would throw up if someone had the audacity to serve me something as vulgar as store-bought tomato sauce from a jar. Normally I make my own by hand-crushing imported San Marzano tomatoes harvested from a 276-year-old farm and cultivated by a man known only as Giuseppe, but I guess I suffered some sort of brain stroke and thought it would be acceptable to use jarred sauce. ”
And Gwyneth must not have learned anything from watching people barf up her food, because on Thursday she triggered more gag reflexes by posting a recipe for Sex Bark on Goop. From what I’ve gleaned, Sex Bark is a chocolate-based snack made from something called “Sex Dust”, which sounds like something a Mummy’s cooze makes when it gets horny (aaaand I just barfed all over my keyboard).
Somewhere in a Little Tikes Climb & Slide Castle, Justin Bieber is holding a meeting with his lawyer Teddius Stuffington, Esq. to discuss last night’s on-point Saturday Night Live commercial spoofing those busted black and white Calvin Klein ads. “They’re just jealous haters. Can we sue them for being jealous haters? Think about it and get back to me – I want to watch Bubble Guppies before my nap.”
Because no one has gotten tired of laughing at Justin Bieber in his underoos trying to act like he just discovered his first pube, SNL put Kate McKinnon a pair of CKs, gave her a bunch of shitty tattoos, and let her drag him to hell. Seriously, I know we all joke about how perfect Kate McKinnon’s Bieber is, but that bitch does a better Bieber than Bieber himself. Justin, take notes – this is how you butch it up. Also, claps for Cecily Strong, who was able to totally nail Lara Stone’s “Do I seriously have to babysit this rugrat?” face.
“Yo, my pipi’s in there” might be the most Justin Bieber-y thing Justin Bieber has never said. And here’s some fun trivia for you: the rolled-up t-shirt Kate McKinnon used to stuff her crotch is the same one used on set by Justin Bieber to stuff his. NO! That’s not true at all. Kate used a much smaller rolled-up t-shirt.
But Kate McKinnon wasn’t the only one serving up “I’m not sure what I’m looking at” realness; Sia was the musical guest on last night’s episode of SNL, and it was all kinds of WTF. Sia has said before that she suffers from stage fright, so she performed wearing what looked like a pair of black frilly panties over her face while the Gummo girl from “Chandelier” danced around her. Later she was accompanied by a weird mime. Eh, still less disturbing than a filthy Shia LaBeouf in a pair of grimy beige underwear.
During his vacation on the island of Parrot Cay in Turks and Caicos, UsWeekly says the busted human-sized blond Quints doll known as Justin Bieber ran into a living corpse guzzling booze at a beach bar that turned to Justin and shouted “Who the fuck are you?“. Justin, proving he knows bad words too, replied “I don’t know, who the fuck are you?“, to which the man replied “You’re a man. I respect that” before walking away.
Of course, that drunk man wasn’t just some random come-to-life decomposing Halloween decoration; it was famous come-to-life decomposing Halloween decoration Keith Richards, something Justin discovered when another old man approached him and told him “Keith Richards wants to have a drink with you.” So Justin made his way over to Keith’s table for a drink. That’s when a source (one of the bedbugs who lives in Keith’s eyebrows) claims the following happened:
“Justin tried to bro down with him,” a witness says, adding that a seemingly unimpressed Richards told the star, “Let’s get one thing straight. You’re a wannabe.”
That’s when Justin laughed a hearty HA HA HA HA before belting out “Yooooooo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want.” No, he didn’t, but I bet he was thinking it (he’s definitely the Baby Spice of friends).
The source then went on to say that Justin and Keith sat talking for a bit before exchanging numbers so they could keep in touch. Justin reportedly called it the “best night ever”. Probably because he just got higher than he’d ever been in his life off of the words coming out of Keith Richards’ drug-scented mouth hole.
But we never really find out what Keith Richards meant when he called him a wannabe. Maybe he was predicting two weeks into Justin’s future, when he’d be mistaken for a “butcher version of Miley Cyrus” as he accidentally crashes a Log Cabin Republicans meeting on Monday night. Then again, that doesn’t make sense, since we all know Miley Cyrus is technically the butcher version of Justin Bieber.
Sometimes I’m grateful that I have the memory of a taxidermy goldfish. Case in point: I totally forgot to DVR that Eaten Alive mess on Discovery and I totally forgot to watch it last night. I dodged a bullet of boredom and it sounds like Eaten Alive was about as riveting as my chihuahua chewing on the carrot nose of his snowman plush toy for 10 minutes.
For weeks, Discovery has been whoring the shit out of a 2-hour special that was supposed to show naturist Paul Rosolie and his black magic twisty worm brows get swallowed whole by an anaconda in the Amazon. Paul had a special suit made and the plan was for him to get sucked up into the anaconda’s body before being pulled to safety by his team. Deadline says that the special was a flop from the beginning. Paul and his team spent 75% of the special trying to catch a gigantic 25-foot anaconda he once came cross (Side note: If you’ve got a gutter brain like me, then those words made you picture Paul fapping on the Hammaconda) during an expedition in the Amazon. That anaconda wanted nothing to do with Paul’s STUNT QUEEN stunt and after they failed to capture it, they decided to use some smaller understudy anaconda they had on standby.
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.