The #1 label in the Ninth Circle of HELL, Ark Music Factory, started leaving welts on the inside of our ears with Rebecca Black’s “Friday” and now they’re back with another spirit-murdering shit song from the dark-side that’ll make you Google the question, “Is there some kind of dance I can do to summon a giant meteor to Earth?”
Patrice Wilson, the head of Ark and the dude who wrote “Friday,” also wrote little Alison Gold’s song “Chinese Food.” The subtitles are in different languages, so everybody in the world can understand this fucked-up shit together! I watched all 3 minutes and 28 seconds of it and made a list of all the things wrong with this mess. Here’s my list:
This wreck starts with little Alison walking the streets in the daylight after ballin’ and clubbin’ all night. White Oprah must be her mom. Then she goes to some children’s only Chinese restaurant and orders some food from a fellow 12-year-old who’s working the cash register. Alison sits down, sings all the items on the menu and then reads her fortune which should’ve read: “RUN, GIRL, RUN, THERE’S A CREEPY PEDOPANDA BEHIND YOU!” But since the noodles she ate were obviously laced with acid, she goes skipping through the park with PedoPanda (who’s PedoBear’s Chinese cousin) and they end up at a girls slumber party. The plot twist you saw coming comes when the panda pulls off his head and it’s Patrice Wilson. No, there’s absolutely nothing shady and ILLEGAL about a grown man in a panda suit playing Monopoly with a bunch of little tweens at a slumber party. How is Patrice Wilson not on all the lists?
Just when I thought I overdosed on MSF (monosodium fuckery), little Alison and her little friends come out dressed up like Japanese Geishas and sing about how much they love Chinese food.
I would call 911, but I’m sure it’s busy since everybody is calling 911 to report this shit!
Okay, cutting in line isn’t a criminal act, but it should be, especially when Emma Roberts tries it.
The Cronut (not to be confused with a crow’s nuts) is still making bitches go crazy in NYC and everyone’s still acting like eating a Cronut is like putting your mouth on an angel’s warm vagina. Crazies will sell their children and suck a dirty dick on a subway platform just for a bite of a Cronut. The line to get one is still really long and apparently boyfriend beater and Hollywood’s newest crazy bitch Emma Roberts learned that there is no VIP entrance.
Before going on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, Emma and her publicist pulled in front of the Dominique Ansel Bakery to get a Cronut. The Daily Mail says that Emma saw the long line, ignored it and stomped to the front door like her first name is Julia instead of Emma. The bakery’s front door person immediately stopped the star of Hotel for Dogs from trying to get cutsies and banished her to the back of the line. Emma did the walk of shame to the back of the line and waited for a few minutes before she gave up and left without tasting deep fried heaven covered in unicorn jizz. HA on her.
Yes, waiting for hours to buy a croissant and donut baby is craziness, but I have driven 45 minutes to go to a Popeye’s that was still open, so who am I to judge? But cutting in line is ILLEGAL and every single one of those people waiting for a Cronut should’ve busted a CITIZEN’S ARREST on that entitled ho. Emma Roberts should be put on the Cronut blacklist forever. No Cronut for you, Emma Roberts.
Sadly, that didn’t happen. Jimmy Fallon heard about Emma’s unsuccessful attempt to get a Cronut and so he gave her one on his show.
Jimmy is part of the problem! He’s rewarding a criminal. I hope that one of the Cronut chefs knew who that Cronut was going to and put a toe nail in it or something. She’s the worst.
That’s a look that says, “Read the F U on my shirt.“
After paying for lunch with photocopied money she made at FedEx Office (Side note: I miss Kinko’s), a drunken White Oprah did the fame whore strut down the ho stroll at The Grove and told the paps that she and Lindsay Lohan are staying at The Beverly Hills Hotel (more like The Beverly Hills Adjacent Hotel aka The Best Western in West Hollywood) and she’s been so busy with “work.” (I like how she says “work” like she knows what that words means!) White Oprah kept blabbing about whatever until she ran into an adorable, innocent child and you know White Oprah. She hasn’t met an adorable child she doesn’t want to taint and ruin. Only in L.A. will a mother (with gorgeous eyebrows, by the way) ask her little girl if she wants to take a picture with Lindsay Lohan’s mother. The smart little girl wasn’t having it. She knows that you don’t take candy from strangers and you don’t hug a Dina Lohan, because if you do the next thing you know it’s 18 years later and you’re hungover in a court room while answering to your 15th felony charge of the year.
Here’s the awkwardness in all its awkward glory:
White Oprah wasn’t only in L.A. to terrorize innocent children with her vodka breath, she was also there to represent the definition of delusion once again. White Oprah talked to Extra’s AC Slater and said that she’s writing a tell-all book called A Parent Trapped, because she wants America to know the real her and thinks she can save lives.
On how Lindsay Lohan’s a target by the media, because she was raised by a single parent (???): “I really think she’s a target and since I am a single parent, I think they think there’s a weaker link that she doesn’t have as much protection around her.”
On how she’s so happy that LiLo lives at home with her now, because it’s so much easier just stealing money from LiLo’s purse than trying to figure out the login information for LiLo’s bank account online: “I have been trying to get her out of [L.A.] for five years… she’s safer at home.”
On the rumor that Lindsay Lohan was blacklisted from Shutters in Santa Monica for trashing one of their rooms in 2007: “That was so silly. We got to the hotel, and there were so many paparazzi, so we opted out. We went to another hotel, the suites were full and then we ended up at the Beverly Hills Hotel.”
On how much hate is thrown at her: “I’m probably the most misunderstood mother in America.”
On why she’s writing a tell-all: “I feel I’m a victim of domestic violence for years and if I can save a life or change a life… I want it to be a helpful book.”
On if Michael Lohan is helping her raise their kids and how she was a single mother straight out of the womb: “I don’t really want to speak about that on camera, but I’ve been a single mom my whole life. I’ve had sole custody and my other three have had no relationship with him. I’m always hopeful things will get better and slowly, but surely hopefully they are.”
On if she wants LiLo to have kids one day: “Yes, I just want to babysit.”
That last line sent a chill through every CPS officer. And White Oprah went on to say, “Because newborn babies are worth so much more on the black market than 16-year-old boys. You hear that, Cody? Why couldn’t you just sit still in that stroller and pretend to be a newborn baby like a good boy?“
No, this isn’t a still from Disney Junior’s upcoming adaptation of Boys Don’t Cry. This is a picture from Justin Bieber’s fan site (via ONTD) of him grabbing a Belieber boob at a meet-and-greet (more like a meet-and-grope) after his show in Miami. Too many questions! Not enough answers!
Did she ask him to hand hug her titty, because she thought that maybe his balls would finally drop if he went to second base? Is this a side hug gone terribly, terribly wrong? Why is she making a face like her soul is trying escape through her mouth and she won’t let it? Why didn’t anybody call 911? Why does this picture make Justin Beiber look like a child-touching child? When you go to a Canadian hospital and you ask for a mammogram, is this what happens? How does she make her bangs look like Marv Albert’s toupee? Is this her Selena Gomez cosplay look?
But the most important and relevant question of all is, why am I still typing words about this picture when I should be pouring boiling water from an electric tea kettle into my eyes instead?
And while I do that, here’s a topless Bieber in Miami yesterday. I’m not helping, I know.
Lady CaCa is hiding out in a giant empty pickle jar full of Valtrex powder, OxyClean and Debby Downer this morning to keep the terrifying Chilean rape monster that is Snooki from forcibly smooshing pickle sludge into her. That South Park episode wasn’t just leaded fuel for your night terrors, it was a piece from the real-life future! The waxed Chilean wombat jumped on her Twatter yesterday and spit this fear-inducing nugget out:
The charred pieces of brain meat in Snooki’s head are powered by dirty jacuzzi water, rotten fake tan grease and boiled pickle juice, so of course she’s going to say shit like this, but that doesn’t mean it was necessary or right. The visuals alone! If the visuals in my head were scratch ‘n sniff, they would smell like a whole lot of NO (which strangely enough, smells like her own brand of skank water).
On a positive note, it still amazes me to see how far science has come. I mean, scientists actually taught a brain-deficient chimp to Tweet on its own. Don’t let anybody tell you that pickles don’t work as positive reinforcements.
And here’s one of Lady CaCa’s greatest fears getting The Big Doucher constellation tattooed on her shoulder in Hollywood the other night.
Warning: You might feel the sudden urge to strangle your Christmas tree, shit in your fireplace stockings and cancel Christmas this year after getting into these highly illegal pictures at Egotastic of the underage lizard goddess Courtney Stodden slithering all over her 51-year-old nightmare of a husband who dressed up as Santa Claus. I know, that picture was supposed to be your Christmas card pose and this bitch stole it from you.
Nothing says “Tis the season!” like a gross Santa with cotton dick brows sniffing on the illegal down low goods of a 17-year-old who looks like an iguana in Alexis Arquette drag. This kind of good Christian girl holiday behavior from Courtney is seriously making Jesus consider converting to Buddhism. It’s okay, Jesus, just try to focus on the silver slivers of elegance on Courtney’s rear claws and everything will be okay (no, it won’t).
I swear, somebody really has to start a “Courtney & Doug staged photo shoot or porn stills?” Tumblr, because I can’t even tell the difference anymore. And if your skin hasn’t completely crawled off of your body to throw itself into the nearest fire, then strap it down, because it will after you click play on this video:
Why isn’t a SWAT Team and a group of priests with vats of holy water swarming all over them?! They are disgusting, ridiculous, fucked up, perverted, shameless, dark-sided…and I can’t get enough of them.
Prince Hot Ginge can no longer tiptoe into his grammy’s bed chambers in the middle of the night to sneak a few quid (I’m speakin’ British!) out of the pocketbook she clutches onto when she sleeps, because there’s not going to be anything in there anymore! The sport of extreme couponing is calling The Queen’s name, because her pay for being THE QUEEN!!! has been frozen until 2015 and she’ll only be given $50 million of taxpayers’ money to pay for travel expenses and palace upkeep. NPR says that Prince Charles will have to reach into his own pocket to pay for Princess (serious typo and it’s not moving) William and Duchess Catherine’s household staff. GOD (in the form of a sale at Tesco) SAVE THE QUEEN!
NPR reports that shit is getting so dire that the Queen is considering renting out rooms at St. James Palace during the Olympics next year. HA. St. James Palace is turning into a flophouse. Can’t you just imagine coming down the stairs late at night to drink tap water from the kitchen faucet and you see your landlady, Queen Elizabeth, sipping canned wine from Bargain Booze while knitting mittens out of her Corgis’ hair to sell on Etsy. Book me a room, now.
And before you go on and on about how Queen Elizabeth is nothing but a welfare leach, stop yourself. If England wants Queen Elizabeth to show up to stupid weddings and national events, they have to pay to play. Queen Elizabeth does not change out of her housecoat for her health. I mean, my abuelita refused to come out of her bedroom for my birthday party unless I promised her the corner piece of my sheet cake. #getmoneyqueen!
Or England can just fire Queen Elizabeth completely and replace her as the “Face of England” with Jodie Marsh, because that trick will work for bootleg HGH injections and a box of gently used condoms.
Tonya Cooley of The Real World: Chicago and a thousand editions of that Real World/Road Rules Challenge mess has thrown a lawsuit at MTV, Bunim/Murray Productions and her co-stars Kenny Santucci (left) and Evan Starkman (right) for the alleged sexual abuse she suffered while shooting a challenge in Thailand. One of those acts of sexual abuse involved the thing you used to scrub the sleep jank off of your teeth this morning. Yes, this is what happens when people stop being polite. They rape you with a damn Oral-B.
TMZ says that Tonya’s lawsuit claims that while she was passed out, Kenny and Evan stole another dude’s toothbrush and used it to brush her labia lips and even put it in her vagina. Tonya says that the cameras caught every bit of her getting toothbrushed in the vagina and not one member of production tried to stop them. Instead, Tonya says producers got rid of some of the evidence by replacing the toothbrush and they never told her about it.
Tonya wasn’t the only girl who went through some not right shit. According to Tonya, several of the girls complained to producers about the dudes grabbing at their off-limit parts before, after and during challenges. The producers never did anything about it and even fueled the illegal fuckery by “stripping the female contestants of their bathing suits” and encouraging the dudes to “inappropriately touch female cast members’ bodies, including in intimate areas.”
Kenny and Evan never got into trouble for allegedly raping Tonya, but she was later kicked off for slapping the fake tan off of Veronica.
Tonya is suing for unspecified damages. Both MTV and Bunim/Murray kept their lips closed about this as of yesterday.
I have watched every Real World and every challenge and Tonya definitely comes off as a tiny hurricane of crazy who spits out lies. But Kenny and Evan are certified douche fucks of epic proportions. Kenny is a piece of smug shit whose brains are operated by AXE body spray and think he’s the greatest thing to happen to women folk in the history of ever. Evan is what would happen if Mr. Potato Head ate a gamma bomb before it detonated. Bitch not only looks like a block of white cheddar cheese, but he’s as smart as one to. That’s not fair to say. If we put a block of cheddar cheese next to Evan and asked them to spell out their name slowly, the block of cheddar cheese would answer correctly before Evan’s stupid ass did. So you don’t have to choke my nipple knobs with floss to get me to say that I 100% believe that these two assholes are capable of doing fucked up shit like this.
And where was Bethasaurus when we needed her most?!
It wasn’t not funny, indeed.
Meanwhile, Joe Francis just sent a basket to MTV thanking them for temporarily making him look less predator-ey. I mean, raped with a toothbrush? THE HELL? Please hold me, CT.
Some things you just can’t find in a Lonely Planet travel guide. Here’s one of those things: In the Zimbabwe town of Zvishavane exists the wrong stuff that when snorted or smoked causes your brain to seep out the kind of fuckery-coated hallucinations that not even Alan Ball could dream up. That is one of my only explanations for why this happened.
The Sun (of course) reports that a 28-year-old nasty ass fucker named Sunday Moyo (quick side whisper: that’s a really good drag name) was arrested on Monday in Zvishavane after he was caught doing a donkey the way no bitch should do a donkey without getting permission from said donkey first. The police found Sunday performing a sex act on the donkey who was lying on the floor while tied to a tree. Earth to PETA, stop photographing F-list titties and get on this. Shit.
Sunday was charged with bestiality and the court ordered him to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. Why must his head be analyzed by mental health professionals, you ask? Well, first of all, he raped a donkey. Second of all, the power of crazy was with him in full force when he told the court the reason for why he fucked a donkey:
“Your worship, I only came to know that I was being intimate with a donkey when I got arrested.
I had hired a prostitute and paid US$20 for the service at Down Town nightclub, and I don’t know how she then became a donkey. I think I am also a donkey. I do not know what happened when I left the bar, but I am seriously in love with the donkey.”
Why do I have a feeling that this same speech came out of Brenda Song’s mouth when her mother asked her why she was marrying Trace Cyrus?
In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, 6-year-old-looking Justin Bieber gave his 19-year-old scissor sister Selena Gomez a titty check at a hockey game in Winnipeg over the weekend. Or maybe he’s grabbing at hers while wishfully dreaming about the day that his finally come in. Then The Lesbeaver and Selena put everybody in that VIP box on some kind of list when they kissed on each other while 69-ing through their jerseys.
Okay, I was 12 once a million years ago, so I understand that kids do this kind of shit when their hormones tell them they’re in love, but DAMN. Take this shit away from public eyes. This is why I told my mother never to throw away that empty refrigerator box in the garage. Not because I needed it for a science project, but because I needed it to make out in. Duh. Get an empty refrigerator box, Selena!
That titty grabbing picture is about as not right as not right can be. It’s like reverse Pedophilia. And you know how I feel about piercing a baby’s ears. Arrest them! Arrest their parents! Arrest us for looking at this! Arrest everybody!