No, you’re not looking at a baby chipmunk searching for acorns hidden under the hat of a come-to-life Cherry Merry Muffin doll (you’re right; he is really more of a Banancy). It’s actually a picture of human messy hangover shit Justin Bieber and toddler-faced bad decision maker Selena Gomez acting like a set of dumb delinquent babies at a bible study on Wednesday night. Yes, apparently they have bible study for children now. If I had to guess, it’s probably shit like “A is for Apple, the fruit given to Eve by a snake. B is for Baby, born in a manger. Can you find baby Jesus sleeping in the manger? Very good!” followed by a couple episodes of Veggie Tales.
According to The Mirror (via Daily Mail), Justin and his on-again/off-again girlfriend arrived late to the bible study at City Church in Los Angeles on Wednesday night, because they had to get all their pre-teen hornies out first. Justin Instagrammed (then quickly deleted) a picture of he and Selena looking like they’re auditioning for a shitty remake of The Bodyguard before joining everyone else in the church, and a source claims that once they finally made it inside:
“The pair sat next to each other while partaking in Bible study and seemed very close. They then left together in Bieber’s car. Justin looked really comfortable with Selena as he still thinks their bond is unbreakable and knows that Selena will always love him.”
Selena Gomez doesn’t need a bible study, she needs a damn exorcism! If that toddler-faced trick has crawled back to Rosemary’s spoiled asshole baby, then we’re going to need an old priest, a young priest, and a priest familiar with spoiled demon brat dickmatization! It might not be too late to save her before she starts muttering nonsense (“I love that thin patchy dirt ‘stache of yours, Justin!”) and crawling down the stairs backwards.
Pic: Daily Mail (via Instagram)
Lil Kim really set the fucked-up celebrity baby names of 2014 bar high when she named her kid Royal Reign, but Omarion kicked the bar down and set it higher than Lolo Jones’ seat at the Beyonce-Jay-Z show. Omarion (that’s “that one kid from B2K” for those of you who remember B2K and “Never heard of him” to those of you don’t remember B2K) is now somebody’s father and he already proved that he should definitely be in charge of another human being by giving his son a name that “THE FUCK?” coughed up. Omarion (born name: Omari Ishmael Grandberry) and his girlfriend, singer type Apryl Jones, are now parents to a little baby boy and yesterday he introduced his kid on Instagram and also let us know that he’s a major contender in the fucked-up celebrity baby name game.
World. Allow me to introduce. MEGAA OMARI GRANDBERRY. He is 7 pounds. 4oz & 20 inches long. My son I’ve been waiting on you. God is the realist!! I witnessed a miracle. My soul mate @aprylsjones is so strong! Not only did she have a un medicated birth (no drugs) she did it at home. Naturally. Just like my mom had me. I love you. thank you for having my legacy. I’ll forever belong to you & you will forever be tied to me. Creating a child takes no love or skill but being a parent requires lots of both. Thanks for watching me grow. #MEGAAhome #OmarionsonMEGAA #donthateonmysonsnameillkillya #Nolol #royalObloodline #blasain #mysongotgoodhair #freshpitthewombhandsom alright. I love y’all
Apryl might’ve had an all-natural, drug-free birth, but I have a feeling that she and Omorion (typo and it ain’t moving) dropped acid before writing their baby’s name on the birth certificate. I mean:
MEGAA OMARI GRANDBERRY????? MEGAA with two As.
Here are 4 things that should be named Megaa Omari Grandberry:
1. A berry in the Pokemon universe that restores 30 HP, but will also give your Pokemon a serious case of the sugar shakes and a migraine. Your Pokemon may or may not combust after eating this berry.
2. A canned protein shake that Whole Foods sells for $19.99 and is later pulled off of the shelves after the FDA finds out that it contains a chemical that causes heart palpitations and diarrhea.
3. A Harry Potter spell that turns regular water into Vitamin Water.
4. A cereal from the 80s that your parents thought was healthy but later found out that each serving has 30 grams of sugar in it. MegaMan was the face of that cereal.
And here is 1 thing that shouldn’t be named Megaa Omari Grandberry:
1. A human baby who will one day realize that his parents named him Megaa Omari Grandberry.
And now for the kontinuing saga of Kanye West vs. The Paparazzi. Yesterday, TMZ began releasing the details of Kanye West’s messy deposition in the case of him smacking the shit out of a pap, starting with an embarrassingly ignorant quote from Kanye comparing his actions against the paparazzi to the black civil rights movement of the 60s (Dr. Donda West, stop whatever fun angel shit you’re doing in heaven and come get your son). Today, TMZ has released more from Kanye’s deposition, and – surprise surprise – it’s the same stinky shit, different delusional pile. Color me a Kim Kardashian shade of shocked (PANTONE 138C – Dirty Sunset).
Nate Goldberg, the pap’s lawyer and Kanye’s current object of cunty affection, asks him once again to explain the lyrics from his pap-hating ballad “Flashing Lights”, this time the line: ”I hate these niggas more than a Nazi.” Goldberg asks Kanye: “So why did you say that you hate the paparazzi more than the Nazis?” and Kanye, who might actually be Justin Bieber in adult asshole disguise, smugly responds:
“Cause that’s what I wanted to say in that song.”
Goldberg then tries to explain that the Nazis were responsible for the murder of six million Jews, at which point Kanye’s lawyer Shawn Holley (aka LiLo’s old lawyer, which pretty much says EVERYTHING about Kanye’s level of intelligence) nervously interrupts Goldberg and tries to suggest they take a recess. Goldberg tells her to STFU and says he’s asking legitimate questions, but Kanye refuses to answer because Goldberg said the n-word again, even though he was directly quoting Kanye:
“But not legitimate to say nigga … ever … ever.”
I guess Kanye wasn’t yet tired of sounding like an obnoxious stupid spoiled teenager, because according to TMZ, he started drilling Nate Goldberg about the use of drones to get exclusive pics of some baby he sort-of knows named North West hanging out with her nannies:
“Is your daughter stalked by like drones? Are there drones flying where she’s trying to learn how to swim at age 1? Wouldn’t you like to just teach your daughter how to swim without a drone flying? What happens if a drone falls right next to her? Would it electrocute her? Could it fall and hit her if that paparazzi doesn’t understand how to remote control the drone over their house?”
Meanwhile, cut to his dumb hooker wife in the backyard of the Kardashian Kumpound with a giant sign painted on her lumpy billboard of an ass that reads “HEY DRONES, OVER HERE!” and texting one of the nannies to bring her “the kid”, while Pimp Mama Kris waves a set of LED airport traffic batons directing them to the area with the most overhead visibility.
Kanye West Says That The Celebrities Who Fight Back Against The Paparazzi Are The New Civil Rights Activists
Good news for those of you who like to start your morning off with a heaping helping of piping-hot delusion spit from the mouth of an obnoxious narcissist: TMZ has obtained a copy of Kanye West’s deposition in the case where he’s accused of whooping a pap and smashing his camera, and it’s truly Kanye at his most Kanye-iest. Which is to say, he comes across as an egotistical pampered asshole who chugs 2L bottles of liquid arrogance to stays hydrated. »
Um, those two dogs on the left making a “This Is Not What I Signed Up For” face should really tell their Chow Chow friend, Genghis Khan II, that opening his mouth when Terry Richardson is around is never a good idea. Or maybe GK2 is silently screaming and shutting his eyes because he can’t with this mess. Probably the latter.
The woman who Blake NotSoLively will one day skin alive and wear posed for a spread in Net-A-Porter’s print magazine Porter and before the shoot, she was given a list of photographers to choose from. Fashionista (via Jezebel) says that Terry Richardson was on that list. If you were doing a shoot for Porter Magazine and they gave you a list with Uncle Terry’s name on it, you’d probably say, “Why are you giving me the National Sex Offender Registry? Give me that list of photographers!” Martha didn’t do that and out of all the photographers on the list, she went with the human chloroform rag. Either the name Terry Richardson hasn’t penetrated through the mint green bubble that Martha lives in or she figured that since she’s all out of Creme De La Mer, she might as well try a new facial cream. Porter says that after the come-to-life stock photo of a pedophile shot her, she told everyone he was “cute.” This is the reason why the Strawberry Shortcake bar I ate last night is crawling up my throat:
“It is the first time these two controversy-hounds have met but it is, like so much in Stewart’s life, no accident. After debating over a long list of photographers, America’s house-mother superior insisted that Richardson shoot her. ‘Oh, he is cute,’ she will say later, when he comes to say goodbye.”
The only thing more WTF-ish than Uncle Terry shooting Martha Stewart is Martha Stewart calling Uncle Terry “cute.” Calling Terry Richardson “cute” is like calling a hairy ass wart that a rat chewed off “adorable.” But anybody who has seen the disgusting plates of barf-covered diarrhea that Martha has tweeted knows that she’s blind when it comes to nasty crap.
And I hope that Martha thinking that Uncle Terry is cute isn’t going to lead to a more “intimate” photo shoot, because my eyeballs were not built to take in the sight of Uncle Terry’s leaky dick on Martha Stewart’s forehead.
Last year, Professor Tara Reid cleared up a misconception most of us had. Most of us believed (no, we didn’t) that when a whale and a shark love each other very much, they make beautiful bareback whale shark love together and a whale shark is born 9 months later. Tara let us know that she thought the same exact thing, but after doing a little research (no, “research” is not the name of a new kind of cocaine that’s made with vodka), she learned that a whale shark isn’t the broken condom baby of a whale and a shark. It’s just a different kind of shark! Minds were blown and science hasn’t been the same since. Well, Tara Reid is back with another scientific fact that will turn your brain inside out.
While talking to GQ about the future Emmy-sweeper Sharknado 2, Tara was asked if a sharknado can happen for real. As a cokenado filled her head, Tara’s lone brain cell folded in half and rubbed its halves together to spit out this genius answer:
“You know, it actually can happen. I mean, the chances of it happening are very rare, but it can happen actually. Which is crazy. Not that it—the chances of it are, like, you know, it’s like probably ‘pigs could fly.’ Like, I don’t think pigs could fly, but actually sharks could be stuck in tornados. There could be a sharknado.”
“I really couldn’t have put it more eloquently myself if I tried,” said every scientist who ever lived.
I never thought about it like that before. Tara Reid is right! If a shark met a tornado, fell in love with it and the two got stuck together while consummating their love, they’d be a sharknado!
You know, you can accuse Tara of butchering her stomach until it looked like a ham that was hacked to pieces with a machete and glued back together with Gorilla Glue, but you cannot accuse her of being anything but the scientific mind of this generation!
It’s Monday, so you might as well start stretching your eye roll muscle and prepare it for a week’s worth of eye rolling by scanning Kanye West’s latest cold puddle of verbal wet shit. Seen above looking like a constipated, bitchy toddler throwing a pout tantrum after you tell him he can’t wear his favorite black leather jogging pants, Kuntye farted at the mouth to GQ about his stupid wedding, stupid fashion shit and how Kim Kartrashian is the greatest thing to happen to the world. Most of us are so used to Kanye filling our heads with dried dingles of delusion, so he said, “I AM LIKE THE JEWS AND THE PAPARAZZI ARE LIKE HITLER,” we’d just roll our eyes a little to the left and continue chewing our breakfast sandwich. Kanye doesn’t compare the paparazzi to Hitler, but he does say that being a celebrity today is like being black in the 1960s. Either I wasn’t totally paying attention during the lesson on the Civil Rights Movement in the 6th grade or Kanye’s brain has been switched with that of a dead sloth, because I somehow missed the part where black people were given Givenchy gowns to wear to their protests and instead of getting attacked by police dogs and beaten by racists, they had their picture taken and were asked to sign autographs. I was taught wrong! The American education system is really leaving every child behind. Kuntye should be named Secretary of Education, so he can teach the children how history really went.
As soon as the interview starts, Kanye opens up his insufferable delusion dispenser and he completely loses me. I have no idea what he’s talking about most of the time and I smoke weed. Spam emails make sense to me. Kanye dribbles out some shit about the wedding, being a blowfish and Carine Roitfeld . If you really want to hurt your brain, you can read the entire interview here. I’ve thrown up a few highlights (and by “highlights” I mean “lowlights“) after the cut. WARNING: A severe flash flood of delusion and insanity is ahead: »
If your teeth look like meth nubs because you almost ground them down to the gums and all the skin on your knuckles is gone from punching concrete walls, then you probably spent around 8 minutes of your day listening to this verbal game of Say Uncle between a dude trying to cancel his account and a Comcast service rep who was not going to let go. Anybody who has ever canceled or downgraded service with Time Warner or Comcast listened to this and thought to themselves, “Eh, been there and that’s why I’ve got a Klonopin addiction now.” But this customer service rep goes all the way hard and as he’s trying to hold onto that customer with the tips of his nails, I pictured his supervisor standing over him while holding a gun to a puppy’s face and giving him a look that says, “If you let that customer cancel, the puppy gets it.” I pictured the supervisor’s supervisor doing the same thing and so on and so on. Basically, a lot of puppies lives were in danger during this call.
On Sunday, writer Veronica Belmont tweeted a link to an 8-minute-long clip of her husband Ryan Block wrestling with a Comcast customer service rep while trying to cancel their service. Ryan wrote on SoundCloud that at first, his wife was talking to the customer retention rep, but after 10 minutes of going absolutely nowhere, she handed the phone over to him and he started recording the conversation. Before Ryan took the phone, he greased up his face with Crisco, put on all of his rings and told Veronica to hold his purse, because he knew it was going to be a fight to the death. Ryan kept repeating that he’d like to cancel, but the rep wasn’t going to let his ass break up with Comcast and after a while, I was expecting the rep to go full Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction by screaming, “I won’t allow you treat me like some slut you can just bang a couple of times and throw in the garbage!!!” Ryan writes:
So! Last week my wife called to disconnect our service with Comcast after we switched to another provider (Astound). We were transferred to cancellations (aka “customer retention”).
The representative (name redacted) continued aggressively repeating his questions, despite the answers given, to the point where my wife became so visibly upset she handed me the phone. Overhearing the conversation, I knew this would not be very fun.
What I did not know is how oppressive this conversation would be. Within just a few minutes the representative had gotten so condescending and unhelpful I felt compelled to record the speakerphone conversation on my other phone.
This recording picks up roughly 10 minutes into the call, whereby she and I have already given a myriad of reasons and explanations as to why we are canceling (which is why I simply stopped answering the reps repeated question — it was clear the only sufficient answer was “Okay, please don’t disconnect our service after all.”).
Please forgive the echoing and ratcheting sound, I was screwing together some speaker wires in an empty living room!
The thing is, Ryan never asks to speak to someone else. I would’ve been screaming for a supervisor, a manager, the president of Comcast, Olivia Pope, Obama, etc… etc… And if that didn’t work, I’d pull out a serious weapon of mass destruction. I’d play the rep a Nickelback song. After two seconds into that song, he’d cancel my account and reimburse me for the entire year.
Here’s the full recording if you haven’t already slapped at your ears while listening to it:
Damn. It’s like trying to break up with Taylor Swift. “Just give me the damn break-up cancellation number, Taylor! Please!”
Comcast, of course, has already apologized:
“We are very embarrassed by the way our employee spoke with Mr. Block and are contacting him to personally apologize. The way in which our representative communicated with him is unacceptable and not consistent with how we train our customer service representatives.”
Comcast claims they’re investigating the call. Translation: They’re going to promote the rep to President of Customer Service.
The Internet is still raging over that Texas cheerleader busting out a cunt smile happily while posing with the friends and family members of Simba that she killed or tranquilized in Africa. So a guy on Facebook named Jay Branscomb decided to respond to all the hos raging out of their bodies over the gross trophy hunter pictures by posting a picture of a proud Steven Spielberg posing in front of a fake Triceratops he just hunted and brutally murdered for sport. Jay left this note with the picture:
Disgraceful photo of recreational hunter happily posing next to a Triceratops he just slaughtered. Please share so the world can name and shame this despicable man.
The picture made the rounds on Facebook and of course somebody’s kindergarten friend’s cousin’s auntie’s weed man’s baby sitter’s uncle’s side piece’s pimp’s brother’s next door neighbor who doesn’t know what dinosaurs are and wasn’t born with the ability to recognize blatant satire dragged that soulless, animal-murdering asshole monster Steven Spielberg for horrifically killing
God’s Industrial Light & Magic’s beautiful creation.
Before she turned Steven Spielberg over to PETAD (People for the Ethical Treatment of Artificial Dinosaurs), this dinosaur-rights activist really gave it to him.
In Steven Spielberg’s defense, maybe that dinosaur isn’t dead. Maybe it’s sick in the stomach from eating bad plants or it smoked a joint with Jeff Goldbum while taking a break from filming the dinosaur documentary Jurassic Park.
I skimmed through the thread under that picture and some bitches seem genuinely mad about it. Either they’re brilliant satirists or their brains were replaced by hard drives that make them desperately search the Internet for shit to be offended by. Just when we’re all starting to think that there’s no way humans can get dumber, Facebook shows us that we can!
And those hos should really save their rage for when they see pictures of Steven Spielberg on the set of Schinder’s List.