According to TMZ, Jennifer Lopez – the Barbie to Ariana Grande’s Skipper (you know, if Skipper was created at a Bratz factory located in the 7th circle of Hell) – is in the middle of negotiating a residency at The Axis at Planet Hollywood. Did you just hear that? Literally every JLo impersonator in Nevada just threw their best pair of padded ass panties across the room in a fit of rage.
TMZ says that JLo is being offered $350,000 per show for 72 shows (3 times a week for 24 weeks) over a one-to-two year period. JLo would join another shimmering jewel from the early 2000′s TRL-era, Britney Spears, who is currently performing at The Axis. To put JLo’s $350,000 per show into perspective, Brit Brit only makes $310,000 a show but she gets 96 shows over a two-year period, which means she ends up making more money in the end (because it would be a crime not to pay the Chicken-Fried Princess of Kentwood anything less than top dollar). In case you’re bad at math, Britney is getting almost $30 million to lip-synch “Baby One More Time”, while JLo would get a little over $26 million to lip-synch “Love Don’t Cost A Thing”. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here getting paid NOTHING to lip-synch RuPaul’s “Peanut Butter” at my desk all day. RUDE!
I’m not sure how I feel about JLo bringing her sexy Miami cougar realness to Las Vegas, but I think I like it? JLo can still break it off, dance-wise, and I bet she’ll be a real treat after 3 or 4 of those $8 booze-filled slushies you can buy everywhere on the strip. Not to mention she’d make an excellent Cristal Connors if her and Brit Brit ever want to do a Showgirls-themed number together. Oh my god – Planet Hollywood, I don’t care how much it costs, PLEASE make that happen!
After Sex and the City Number Two was called out as a sequined dried turd by most critics and became a Razzie award winner, the show’s creator and the director of the movies Michael Patrick King said that they had one more
bowel movement movie in them and I took that to mean that he really wanted a bigger summer house in the Hamptons.
Even though the second SATC movie, which splattered onto screens in 2010, was a flop in the hearts of many fans and was offensive on every level, it still made almost $300 million worldwide. So of course those bitches have another story to tell. Jennifer Hudson says that story may be told soon, because someone recently talked to her about a third movie. During an interview with Dish Nation (via E!), JHud spilled this:
“I think it might be [happening]. Somebody just came to me talking about that. So if it’s in the talks, it might happen. So look out for your girl Louise from St. Louis.”
In the file folder labeled “Final SATC movie” in Michael Patrick King’s head, I hope there’s a plot summary in there that reads: “The SATC hos watch Rojo Caliente eat an orange for 2 hours straight.” Now THAT is the only SATC movie I want to see.
But really, we all know what the FINAL SATC story is. They all retire and move into a small, three bedroom tract home in Miami and when they’re not getting into hijinks, they’re laughing over
cosmos cheesecake in the kitchen. Carrie will be played by a Bea Arthur hologram, Samantha will be played by a Rue McClanahan hologram, Miranda will be played by an Estelle Getty hologram and Charlotte will be played by a Betty White hologram (the real Betty White doesn’t want any part of that shit).
And does Sarah Jessica Parker really need MORE money? Look at this trick in NYC the other day. She was out for a casual gallop and found a check for $4,700 on the sidewalk. Money just falls at her hooves!
When casting rumors for the second season of True Detective started up, it was reported that the producers were really reaching for the highest stars by trying to get Jessica Chastain, Brad Pitt, Christian Bale and Cate Blanchett. I guess none of those stars wanted to be reached, so the producers went down one step on the ladder and reached a little lower by trying to get Ewan McGregor and then Colin Farrell and then Garrett Hedlund. Well, the producers are completely off of the ladder and now they’re taking whatever they can get.
Nothing has been confirmed yet, but apparently Colin Farrell, Vince Vaughn and Taylor Kitsch have been cast in the male leads. The Wrap says that the show’s creator Nic Pizzolatto is focusing on casting the female lead who’s been described as a booze and gambling addicted sheriff. Elisabeth Moss and Rachel McAdams were both rumored to be up for the role and The Wrap says they’re not totally out. But a source says that 7 actresses have been called back for the role after getting through the first round of auditions. The source says that the 7 actresses are: Rosario Dawson (okay, I can see that), Brit Marling (I can see that too, okay…), Oona Chaplin (I don’t know who that is, but I love a first name that sounds like an orgasm moan), Kelly Reilly (okay….), Malin Akerman (uh huh…), Jamie Alexander (yeah…) and Jessica Biel (WHAAAAAAAT?!).
While reading that list, I knew how the kids who had to pick baseballs teams during my 7th grade PE class felt. They went down the line, looked at each kid and said, “okay, okay,” and when they got to me at the end, they screamed, “Noooooooo.”
Jessica Biel?! Is Courtney Love, who could also be a consultant since she’s an actual detective, not available?
They should just cast an unknown. Or better yet, they should do what the producers of The Love Boat did whenever they got stuck and needed a lifesaver: they brought on Charo! Charo saves everything! Here’s my choice for the female lead in TD 2 looking hot, glamorous and sheriff-ey (just go with it) while posing with Lou Diamond Phillips at The Cesar Chavez Foundation Awards a few months ago.
And that is the traumatized look from a newborn baby who has just learned that her name is BUNNY.
Before Katie Price gave birth to the baby she made with her cheating skank of a third husband Kieran Hayler, she said that she planned to name her second daughter “Electra” after her idol Carmen Electra. Electra Hayler sounds like the name of a low-budget superhero that The Weather Channel created to be their new mascot. Electra Hayler is kind of a badass name, so of course Katie didn’t name her that. Because Katie is a pink-loving, Disney-obsessed 8 -year-old rich girl trapped in the body of an exquisite Real Doll (I think I just described Holly Madison too), she named her second daughter Bunny. I bet Bunny wishes she could hop her ass to the nearest courthouse to change her name. It could’ve been a lot worse. Katie tells Ok! Magazine that she wanted to name Harvey Price’s new sister Duchess Kate, because her first daughter’s name is Princess.
“We really struggled to decide on a name. I wanted to call her Duchess Kate or just Duchess, but Kieran didn’t like that, so we’ve chosen Bunny, which we both like. It’s really cute, isn’t it? I considered it being spelt Bunni with a heart above the i, but I don’t think that’s really a part of the English language. I love Duchess Kate, though, so I’ve told Kieran that if we have another daughter that will be her name! I think it goes well with Princess. She would have been Duchess Kate of Brighton.”
Princess and Bunny. Katie realizes she’s naming humans and not white teacup Bichons, right? Katie says that they also tossed around the names Disney, Lady, Precious, Bambi and Peggy. THE FUCK? Somebody stop Katie Price before she gives birth to a third daughter and names the poor child Rapunzella Tiara (Actually, that’s kind of a hot name).
But seriously, I sort of kind of like the name Bunny, because it sounds like the name of an Upper East Side socialite who eats a bowl of Xanax for breakfast, brushes her teeth with champagne, sleeps in a Chanel suit and is the inspiration for nearly every character that Christine Baranski has ever played. Bunny is also a good name, because it’s the name of gold-digging trophy wife icon Bunny Lebowski!
So if somebody ever gives Bunny Hayler a look that says “I’m so sorry” after she tells them her name is Bunny Hayler, she should turn that look of pity into a look of jealousy by saying, “I was named after Bunny Lebowski, bitch.“
Anna Kendrick, the creature you’d get if Arthur and the lady squirrel from The Sword in the Stone had a baby, admitted on a recent episode of WTF with Marc Maron (via Uproxx) that some intrepid (read: fucking creepy) fans found her home address and sent her a bunch of shit for her birthday. Now, before you start assuming the worst, I can assure you she didn’t receive any of the following items for purchase at CelebStalkerDepot.com: hair clippings, nail clippings, graphite pencil portraits, homemade wedding albums, underwear, requests for her underwear, blood, poems, or blood poems (poems written in blood, which are always the worst).
She did, however, receive several teddy bears, but she threw them out, because the only thing creepier than receiving one $5 dead-eyed polyester-filled plush animal that says “I WUV WOO ANNA” when you squeeze its face is receiving 20. But Anna confessed that it’s not just teddy bears that go straight into the trash; she said she also received a pair of diamond earrings from a fan, and guess where they went? HINT: Not in her ears! »
Rosie Perez has always been my favorite Rosie because she perfectly played an exquisitely tacky gold digger in It Could Happen To You, so when I read on Deadline yesterday that she’s moving into the pecking hen coop on The View, I thought to myself, “Well, I’ll always have ‘Why don’t you just give her ALL the money?‘”
Because if The View is good at one thing, it’s good at completely ruining your favorites. Deadline reported yesterday that, as excepted, Republican strategist, political commentator and l-hoarder Nicolle Wallace (aka “the kindler, gentler, smarter and more pleasant Elisabeth Hasselcrack,” which isn’t saying much since a urethra wart is more pleasant that Hasselcrack) is joining Whoopi and Rosie O’Donnell at the round battlefield. It was rumored that the fourth spot was going to football wife October Gonzalez, but apparently ABC didn’t think she was experienced enough. So the job went to Rosie Perez and her D’s, motherfucker, D’s. »
Don’t worry, I’m deeply confused too. This is like someone pointing to a picture of Kim Kardashian and trying to convince you that it’s not a picture of a narcoleptic-faced hooker. It makes NO goddamn sense. But according to the Los Angeles Times, Hello Kitty – the cat-looking Japanese cartoon character who’s named after the thing she looks like – is not actually a cat. So what the hell is she then?
According to Christine R. Yano, an anthropologist who is curating a retrospective on Hello Kitty and author of the book Pink Globalization: Hello Kitty’s Trek Across the Pacific, found out during her research from one of the HBICs at Sanrio that Hello Kitty is actually a human British 3rd grade girl named Kitty White. She’s five apples tall, a Scorpio, her parents are George and Mary White, and she has a twin sister named Mimmy. You hear that? Five apples tall, just like a regular human child!
All I have to say to that is: …THE FUCK???? Is this one of those tests they give to see if you’re a serial killer? What kind of person is looking at Hello Kitty and saying “Of course she’s not a cat! Look at her whiskers and cat ears – that’s clearly a human child”? Bitch is named Kitty and has whiskers and paws and kitty ears and LOOKS LIKE A FRIGGIN CAT, but she’s not a cat? The only explanation for this is that “George and Mary” are British-sounding pseudonyms for Dennis Avner and Jocelyn Wildenstein. One romantic night over a bottle of Chablis and a crystal dish of Fancy Feast, Dennis and Jocelyn made unsettling humanoid cat-love which resulted in Jocelyn giving birth to a litter of two cat-looking babies, Kitty and Mimmy. Then they moved to Japan, where everything is next-level weird and no one would question the existence of two freaky cat people raising cat-looking twin girls that are no taller than five apples. There, that makes much more sense!
When I heard the news that sexy yogurt hustler John Stamos was trying to bring back Full House, a show that’s been dead for nearly 20 years, I made the exact same face as Kimmy Gibbler above: a combination of shock, disgust, and confusion, with just a hint of “Da fuq??”. But it sounds like Uncle Jesse can stop trying to make it happen, because it’s probably definitely going to happen. Again, Kimmy Gibbler says what we’re all thinking. Kimmy Gibbler is us.
According to TV Guide, Warner Bros. TV has shown serious interest in bringing Full House back. Original producer Bob Boyette (hands up if you just said “Full House is a Miller-Boyette production” in Uncle Joey’s voice) has signed on, and creator Jeff Franklin has already started writing. Candace Cameron Bure, Jodie Sweetin, and Andrea Barber (YAAAASSSSSS!!!) are all on board for the reboot, while Bob Saget and Dave Coulier have agreed to be involved in some capacity (writing, acting, directing, voicing annoying woodchuck puppets).
It sounds like everyone and the attic are ready to come back and take a messy dump all over the Full House legacy, except for you-know-who. Obviously the Too-Good-For-This-Shit Twins, Mary Kate and Ashley, are far too busy being fancy troll pants fashion designers and vanguards of Urban Blair Witch style to grace our televisions with their presence. Well, guess what? We don’t need you either! All John Stamos needs is an eBay account connected to a valid credit card, and he can replace them with two vintage Talking Michelle dolls. Sure, they’re a poor substitute for the real thing, but the real thing would scare the shit out of children. You’re trying to make Full House, not American Horror Story: Full House.
There’s also no word on whether or not they’ll be bringing back such beloved Full House B-characters like Vicky Larson, Nicky and Alex, that hot bitch Kathy Santoni, or that scene-stealing hotter bitch Comet, but chances are pretty good that they won’t have any scheduling conflicts. One thing is for sure: they better not bring back that asshole Yankee Doodle Derek! Ugh, I’m getting ragey just thinking about his smug face and that shit-eating grin!
Talk about hitting pause at the wrong time; this looks like a production still from some sort of terrifying David Lynch-ian version of Lidsville (aka what half of my nightmares look like. Yes, I have Sid and Marty Krofft-themed nightmares; I think that drinking straight Kahlua and looking at the grotesque faces of the Kardashians all day might have something to do with it).
Even though Phoebe Price pretty much cured everything that needs to be cured by stripping down to a pair of sophisticated gingham granny panties (you could sort of make out her coochie cutlets, which is the definition of sophistication in my book) and dumping a bucket of water over her head, there are still some hos who feel the need to play catch-up and perform the same damn stunt everyone and their dog has done already. One of which is breastfeeding enthusiast Olivia Wilde. Clearly there was no way Olivia could possibly top Phoebe’s IBCG (ice bucket challenge glamour) with just water and ice, so Olivia came up with the totally original and unique idea to fill her bucket with something different. However, instead of using bullet shells, like Orlando Jones, or dollar bills, like Patti Stanger, Olivia did one grosser and filled her bucket full of breast milk.
First off, EW. That is too much damn milk. Second, something in the milk ain’t clean (literally); there’s no way Olivia’s tiny titties produced that much milk. But if they did, bitch needs to get off that roof and haul ass to a hospital, because that cannot be right. But they didn’t, which means Olivia made some poor assistant run to 7-11 and pick up like, 40 to 50 jugs of whole milk and drag them all up the stairs to the roof in the hot August sun and fill up a giant bucket while getting splashed in the face with lukewarm leche. Then when the assistant (who at this point in time has probably developed heat stroke and a severe milk allergy) tried to cool off by pouring water on their head, Olivia was like “PUT THE WATER DOWN, CANDACE! YOU HAVEN’T BEEN NOMINATED YET! Besides, that water is for me to rinse off with. Which I will do in a second, after we try it again using skim milk. Back to the store, Candace! Chop chop!”
(via Daily Mail)
In “Things that should never, ever happen, so please stop making it happen” news, The Hollywood Reporter has confirmed that Lifetime, the people responsible for such embarrassing works of low-budget made-for-tv train wreck trash as Liz & Dick and the upcoming Whitney Houston biopic (oh come on, like we don’t already know that it’s going to be a fucking mess), will air a two-hour television movie titled “The Brittany Murphy Story” on September 6th. Yes, September 6th of this year, which means they threw this shit together faster than 13-year-old me throwing together a science fair project on smoking the night before by asking a friend’s mom to smoke a bunch of filtered and unfiltered cigarettes and describe which tasted smoother (I got a B+).
29-year-old Amanda Fuller of Last Man Standing will portray Brittany Murphy and ageless onyx-haired rose petal Sherilyn Fenn (Twin Peaks, the 90s) will play Brittany’s sort-of crazy mother Sharon Murphy. No word on who plays Brittany’s husband Simon Monjack, but if it’s anyone other than Oliver Platt, I’ll be seriously pissed. The film will follow Brittany’s rise to stardom, which means we can look forward to a dollar store-looking Tai and Cher from Clueless and a knock-off Ashton Kutcher, all the way to her tragic death in 2009. Lifetime hasn’t revealed the source of the script material, but that Sharon Murphy was not consulted, nor cooperated with the production in any way.
There aren’t enough Leslie Knope NO! gifs to sum up how I feel about a Brittany Murphy biopic. Brittany Murphy was a beautiful collagen-lipped butterscotch pixie and there is no way Lifetime will do anything but take a giant stinky dump on her memory. Thank god she’s probably too busy teaching a class on adorable giggling to the angels in Heaven to notice that this shit is happening.