No, this isn’t a recent picture of Richard Simmons, but I like to imagine this is how he answered the door for the police officers who came by to check up on him to prove he was A-OK. “Dispatch, this is Officer Brown. I have received visual confirmation that Richard Simmons is still a vivacious elf. Over.”
You should be throwing your arms in the air to Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” and giving praise to the legwarmer-wearing gods above today, because after many months of wondering about the health and wellness of Richard Simmons, TMZ says that he’s doing alright. That wooshing sound you just heard was a giant sigh of relief from anyone who has ever jumped on one of those tiny trampolines in their basement while watching a VHS copy of Sweatin’ to the Oldies.
According to TMZ, one of Richard’s friends sent an email to the L.A. County District Attorney’s Elder Abuse Unit last month claiming that 66-year-old Richard was being abused by someone who was clearly looking for a one-way ticket to Hell. So on Friday night around 7pm, two LAPD officers paid a visit to Richard’s house to investigate. When the cops showed up, they were greeted by Richard himself, who invited them in to his home, because Richard is a true gentleman and perfect host.
The police officers spent an hour with Richard and reported that he was “articulate, lucid, relaxed” and appreciative of their concern, adding that he couldn’t have been nicer and more gracious. They say Richard explained to them he’s has been hiding out at home because he’s “exhausted” from spending the past 30 years as a public person. That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Imagine spending 30 years being Richard Simmons? Even cocaine is like “I don’t know where he finds the energy.”
They also say he’s still walking with a limp because of his bum knee, and that he has a beard now (which I bet makes him look super handsome, like a young Bob Ross). Richard also explained why he hasn’t been to his Beverly Hills fitness studio recently, saying “I’ve got people who run things. I don’t need to be there.” Truth! Richard, you’re rich and old and put in your time; you deserve to sit back and let someone else do the click clack!
Human ray of sunshine Richard Simmons is suffering from the sads and a busted knee, and now the royal dandelion sent from heaven, the Duchess of Alba, is in the hospital. The universe is a bastard and is dimming everything that is beautiful and special in this ugly world.
The Olive Press says that the Duchess of Alba (full name: Excma. Sr.ª D.ª María del Rosario Fitz-James Stuart y de Silva, 18th Duchess of Alba de Tormes, Grandee of Spain) checked into a hospital in Sevilla on Sunday night. The 88-year-old royal jewel who has a million more titles than that peasant Dame St. Angie Jolie lives in Sevilla in one of her many opulent palaces. The Duchess of Alba’s rep says that she’s got pneumonia and even though she’s in a bad way, she’s slowly getting a little better.
“She had suffered a stomach virus a few days earlier but had recovered from it. Now she has pneumonia. At her age, one thing leads to another. She is weak. We are worried because we love her very much.”
The Duchess of Alba’s 64-year-old husband Alfonso Diez has been with her at the hospital.
Ugh, pneumonia. Pneumonia needs to fuck itself with its silent p. How dare it mess with the Duchess of Alba. If only pneumonia was a human peasant, the Duchess of Alba could use her power and 500 titles to send it to the gallows where it belongs. Well, here’s hoping that the Duchess of Alba and Richard Simmons get better and give the rainbows a reason to come out again by salsa dancing in the middle of a square in Sevilla.
If you’ve seen a rainbow recently, then it might’ve been a fake rainbow that the government created with lights and holograms, because they want you to think that everything is right in the world and Richard Simmons is happier then ever. But if TMZ is telling the truth, then it’s impossible for a natural rainbow to appear in the sky, because Richard Simmons has the sads in a major and serious way.
According to TMZ, the human sparkler who is the true inspiration for the song “You Light Up My Life” hasn’t been photographed since January of this year when he went to a charity event. Richard Simmons always held court at his fitness studio in Beverly Hills, but apparently he hasn’t graced that place with his glittery presence for a few months. Richard used to teach a class there at least once a month, but the schedule on his studio’s website says that either Richard or staff is teaching the class. Friends of Richard haven’t heard from him either and whenever somebody comes to visit him at his house, his housekeeper shoos them away.
Richard used to regularly give my eyes a heaping serving of the tingles by posting a picture of him in drag on Facebook, but he hasn’t done that in a while. Richard (or someone on his team) is still updating his FB page all the time and leaving comments, but it seems like they’re only posting old pictures.
Some source says that Richard barely ever leaves his house and is majorly depressed because his bitchy 66-year-old left knee just won’t let him twirl stars into the sky by doing what he loves most: working out. Richard’s knee is busted and doctors have told him that if he wants to keep sweatin’ to the oldies then he needs to have knee replacement surgery. Richard’s known for about a year that his left knee needs to be replaced, but he’s terrified of the surgery so he hasn’t done it yet. Richard’s right knee was replaced 4 years ago and he kept putting the surgery off because the thought of going under the knife freaked out every part of his soul. Richard tried to get his knee back into kicking condition by doing stem cell and red blood platelet therapy, but it didn’t work.
While covered in more fur than Rabbit Island and showing Arthur the Aardvark how Coke bottle glasses are really worn, the legendary Elaine Stritch is officially out of fucks to give, because she spit out her last one on the fourth hour of Today this morning.
89-year-old Elaine was on Today to talk about her documentary Shoot Me and as she rested her Keds-covered hooves on a Kathie Lee Gifford footstool (found in the clearance section of your local Raymour & Flanigan), the Kathie Lee Gifford footstool spoke and asked her about her bluntness. Kathie Lee Gifford asked for it! When you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. When you breathe in Kathie Lee’s breath, you’re going to get drunk. When you ask Elaine Stritch about her bluntness, you’re going to get the fuck word in your ears. Here’s the drop of YES that came out of Elaine’s mouth:
“Thank god it’s hasn’t been … not passed on television. If you just say things naturally, it’s fine. They’re just thinking ‘fuck.’”
Kathie Lee Gifford screamed, “Oh dear! Oh dear,” and I’m going to assume that at the same time that Elaine dropped that f-bomb, her breakfast wine buzz started to wear off and she got nervous. Because there’s no way Kathie Lee Gifford could’ve been freaking out over the fuck word. It’s the fourth hour of Today! I mean, I, for one, believe that children should learn the fuck word very early on, because it’s really one of the only words in the English language that matters, but children are not watching the fourth hour of Today. The only people watching the fourth hour of Today are people who have given up on life a long time ago and constantly say, “fuck it,” out loud to themselves, so an f-bomb is the opposite of shocking to them. And by “them” I mean “us,” because I watch that mess. It comforts me knowing that someone is more of an incoherent mess in the morning than me.
And where’s the petition to get Elaine Stritch and fellow f-bomber Sue Simmons to be the new fourth hour co-hosts of Today?
Joan Collins is life’s greatest and wisest Sage and when she gifts the world with rhinestone-encrusted words of wisdom we should all adjust our lives according to her advice. Every night, I squeeze my skinny fat body into a bath tub full of Mr. Bubbles and sip on a Diamond Water bottle full of white zinfandel mixed with soda water, because Joan has made it perfectly clear that the three keys to staying glamorous are diamonds, bubble baths and champagne. The fourth key is to become majority shareholder in your arch rival’s company, which is why I try to win at least one game of Monopoly on my iPhone a week.
Pull out your notebooks, because Joan Collins is spitting out some priceless advice again. Joan was on Loose Women yesterday promoting her one-woman show and they asked the 81-year-old glamour goddess what are the top three most important things in her 11 year marriage with her 48-year-old fifth husband Percy Gibson and she said:
“Sex, sex, sex.”
Smear the strawberries and champagne-scented lube all over your fuck parts and get it in as much as you can, whores, because Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan has spoken! The keys to happiness are diamonds, bubble baths, champagne, corporate takeovers and SEX!
While the Emmys were bumming everyone the shit out by showing us dead person after dead person, Richard Simmons was giving everybody life on Twitter. During the show, the spawn of Billy Crystal and a Care Bear, made anus lips twitch and tingle into a frenzy by tweeting pictures of him dragged up as various TV characters. You better shove an ice cube up your ass, because if you don’t, the sight of Richard Simmons in all kinds of drag will make your prostate melt and drip out of your body.
Who cares if Richard Simmons as Walter White looks more like Justin Bieber after his music career dies and he tries to make it in the world of female tennis. Who cares if Richard Simmons as Sister Jude from AHS: Asylum looks more like a strung out Tan Mom. And who cares if Richard Simmons in Game of Thrones drag looks like a sober White Oprah SANS FARDS. All of this is perfection wrapped in a rainbow wrapped in a unicorn’s air kiss wrapped in another layer of perfection.
Miley will most likely Instagram a picture of her wearing nothing but a clit cozy today and that’ll make my head swallow my eyeballs for once and for all, and that’s okay. I’ve seen everything there is to see now that I’ve seen Richard Simmons in drag as Phoebe Price. It’s like heaven jacked off in my eyes.
The 750th season of Dancing with No Stars (And A-Listers Like Valerie Harper, Nomi Malone And Bill Nye) premiered last night and I’m already writing in to Congress, the Supreme Court and Betty White (since she is the supreme decision maker of America) to ask them to disqualify a few of those whores for unfair practices!
Amber Riley from Glee and Corbin Bleu from High School Musical got the highest scores of the night, which is surprising to absolutely no one since they’ve both danced professionally before. They tried to play it off by spitting out some shit like, “I haven’t taken a dance class in years! I’ve been focusing on my singing! I miss dancing! I’ve never danced with a partner before! I barely know what dancing is!,” but please. Those lying, cheating whores. Yes, Elizabeth Berkley tied with Corbin for the second highest score of the night and she’s one of the most skilled dancers in the world (see: practically ever scene in Showgirls), but anybody who’s been in Showgirls can do no wrong, so I’ll let her slide.
Anyway, even though Amber Riley was 3 points away from a perfect score and should probably be declared the winner so we can be spared from watching the rest of the season, Bill Nye was the star of the night. Because he’s Bill Nye the Science Guy, he just had to dance to a song with the word “science” in it. Bill and his partner Tyne Stecklein did the Cha-cha-cha to “Weird Science.” He looked like a half-paralyzed grandpa turtle on extra-strength ludes trying to crawl to a piece of wet lettuce. What I’m trying to say is that his dance was amazing and all the votes should go to Bill.
VOTE FOR BILL!
Bill Nye’s performance is the only performance you need, but click here if you really need to see the others.
No, I’m not talking about Bill de Blasio. Yeah, he came in first in the Democratic mayoral race and got over 40 percent of the votes, but none of that would have happened if he didn’t get an endorsement from the sun’s ambassador ROJO CALIENTE! During Bill de Blasio’s campaign for NYC mayor, Rojo Caliente and her wife Cynthia Nixon have been supporting him and so of course he was going to win. While watching Bill give his victory speech last night, New Yorkers felt their retinas tingle as though a dash of cayenne pepper blew into their eyes. They didn’t even listen to any of the words that came out of Bill de Blasio’s mouth, because they were too busy taking in the luminous beauty of the humanized Statue of Liberty torch. Behind every Bill de Blasio is Rojo Caliente stealing the spotlight without even trying.
And here’s another picture courtesy of Sara:
Even Bill de Blasio’s son’s glorious afro and his daughter’s renaissance fair headband can’t take the attention away from Rojo. All hail Rojo! The Mayor of the Universe!
And I hate myself hard for somehow missing these pictures of Rojo, Cynthia Nixon and Susan Sarandon playing ping pong at a de Blasio event last month.
I totally wouldn’t be surprised if Sir Patrick Stewart and his piece got stoned before getting married in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese.
73-year-old international treasure Patrick Stewart announced on Twitter today that he got married to his 35-year-old jazz singer girlfriend of 4 years Sunny Ozell. When Sunny Ozell gets beamed up to heaven, she will be directed to the VIP entrance when she says, “Hello, I was Patrick Stewart’s third wife.” Yes, Sunny Ozell is young enough to call Patrick Stewart “Pepaw Picard” for real, but she has very good reasons for marrying him : HE’S PATRICK FUCKING STEWART, he’s a millionaire, he can easily get her a dinner invitation from George Takei and HE’S PATRICK FUCKING STEWART.
Patrick Stewart’s rep confirms to HuffPo that he’s somebody’s husband, but the rep Super Glued their lips shut about all other details. Did he do all four takes when Sunny said “I do“? Did he perform a Shakespearean sonnet as his vows? (If the answer is yes, then he’ll probably win a few Tonys from it). And more importantly, did Magneto marry him and Sunny? If he did, then set phasers to YAAAAAASSSS!!!!
UPDATE: Ian McKellen posted this picture on Facebook with the note, “I did my part.” Dreams do come true!
Here’s Patrick Stewart and Sunny O at the opera last year.
After the gay Tasmanian devil on molly that is Richard Simmons exited Jimmy Kimmel’s Live studio by crashing through the wall, the audience picked the shards of sequins off of their eyeballs and tried to figure out what just happened. Shit, my ass just watched both videos three times and I don’t know what happened.
In the span of 8 minutes, the true queen of pop gave Bill Hader a lap dance, lovingly caressed Jimmy Kimmel’s face, licked the questions off of Jimmy’s card like they tasted like piña colada lube, spoke in a “Mexican” accent that was almost as bad as the “Mexican” accent Dania Ramirez does on Devious Maids, flashed the basket of baby peaches in his pants, twerked to the oldies, cried about thirsty orphans, stripped down and got into Jane Fonda drag. And he did it all while wearing the most clothes I’ve ever seen him wear. He was dressed like the principal at Liberace’s Academy of Music.
I feel like I need to drink ten cartons of orange juice and lie down in a dark room. It’s like I’m coming down from E. Nothing makes me pucker like watching Richard Simmons go full Richard Simmons.