You know, at least until the next time she’s asked about her. NO! Taylor Swift is for-real done talking about the Veronica to her Betty, Katy Perry, no matter how much delicious attention it would get her. The human version of Debbie from The Oblongs recently told The Telegraph that you won’t hear the name of her former friend and current reason for why she goes though a 6-pack of scented glitter pens a month (scrawling the words SLUT SKANK BITCH 20 times a day in your Burn Book kills a ton of ink) leave her mouth hole ever again, because she is done talking about Katy Perry:
“I’m not giving them anything to write about. I’m not walking up the street with boys, I’m not stumbling out of clubs drunk. But I’m never going to talk about her in my interview. It’s not going to happen.”
She then added: “You hear that Gretchen? Stop tying to make our fight happen, it’s NOT going to happen“.
Tay Tay’s comments have me pulling a Marcia Brady-style “Nice try, Butterscotch“, because it’s a little redundant to say you don’t want to talk about someone and then proceed to talk about them. If she was really, truly done talking about Katy Perry, she should have pulled a Mimi and responded with a simple “I don’t know her.” THAT’S how you show someone you’re done talking about their ass.
And if you ever wanted to see what Tay Tay would look like if she bought a plaid poncho coat and went two shades darker on her lipstick, here’s Taylor Swift’s final Pokemon evolution form, Karlie Kloss, in Milan earlier today:
After several months of getting her girl power groove back with her ya-ya sisterhood or whatever 1989 was supposed to be about, it sounds like Taylor Swift’s boy-crazy cootch (or as she calls it, her “love meadow”) once again has the fever for famous dick. According to E!, Ashley A’s human equivalent spent most of Sam Smith’s Grammy afterparty cozied up to Hozier, aka the Take Me To Church guy. Tay Tay and Hozier (government name: Andrew Hozier-Byrne) were first spotted hanging out at a HAIM concert last week, and apparently they spent a good deal of time together on Sunday night. A source says they were still chatting at 3:30am and that Taylor gave him a few kisses on the cheek when she left.
Of course, another source tells People that it’s 100% butterscotch-scented BS that anything R rated is going on between them because they’re just friends.
Or maybe Hozier was just a cheap last-minute replacement for Tay Tay’s first party boy choice Sam Smith, who sort of ditched her to hang out with the Veronica to her Heather, Katy Perry. The NY Daily News says that Tay Tay was forced to skip Universal’s Grammy afterparty because Katy showed up to that shit first and remora’d herself onto Sam before Tay Tay could. And since she hadn’t yet perfected the timing on her sassy finger-wag in case an impromptu “The Boy Is Mine”-style bitch-off broke out, she skipped it and waited for Sam at the after-afterparty. Which is where she killed some time batting her eyelashes at Hozier and telling him his hair looks sexy pushed back.
Here’s Tay Tay being escorted out of said party by her 35-year-old cool mom friend Jamie King on Sunday night. If you’ve ever wondered what Tay Tay’s face looks like after she writes her phone number on a guy’s arm using a Maybelline Baby Lips, here it is:
I’m not sure what the inspiration behind Charli XCX’s Grammys outfit was, but I like to imagine that her stylist was going for ‘former Party Down employee who was fired for getting stoned and falling asleep on a pile of fur coats at a graduation party for Leonard Stiltskin’s daughter‘ sort of thing. She’s like the accidental hot tub baby of Roman and Bobbie St. Brown. She also kind of reminds me of a baby model from the baby formal wear page of a Sears catalog. You know, the one where all the babies look like tiny aspiring dinner theater magicians?
But if I have to be totally honest, that baby pink mink stole would have looked so much hotter paired with a floor-length crystal-studded Bob Mackie gown. Yes, I know that it’s no longer 1979 and not everyone can be Cher or Morgan Fairchild, but what ever happened to serving up show-stopping glitz n’ glamour at the Grammys? I understand that not everyone can handle the responsibility that comes along with walking the red carpet in some top-shelf crystal-covered eleganza, but at least they could try. It’s truly a dark day when only ONE person was brave enough to pull out all the stops (no, literally – there’s definitely a construction site missing its caution markers) and arrive working some old school beauty pageant glamour.
Here’s more of Charli XCX, as well as the rest of the dull, unpolished rhinestones that rolled down the Grammy red carpet last night, including an escort-looking Lady Gaga, Kelly Osbourne in Dame Edna drag, Katy Perry in Kelly Osbourne drag, and John Mayer making me completely ashamed to say I totally would:
While looking like Olive Oyl’s so-edgy fashion school sister, aspiring teenage mallrat Katy Perry shocked absolutely no one by admitting to ELLE magazine that the world of pop music is basically a come-to-life soap opera where everyone is given a predetermined character to play. Unfortunately, it’s not an exciting soap opera like Passions or Metropia or Monsignor Martinez, but one of those boring soap operas where everyone just stands there smelling the fart while waiting for the wealthy oil tycoon to die so they can start fighting over who gets his mansion. And in this pop music soap opera (possible name: Backstabbers & Backing Tracks), Katy Perry knows what roles would be played by professional Rebecca Ann Leeman-type Taylor Swift and human period cramp Kanye West:
“You’ve got to name someone the villain, someone the princess, someone the mom-, the dad-type—you know there always have to be characters. As pop figures, we’re all characters. And the media uses that. Who is the sweetheart, who is the villain? You know. Taylor’s the sweetheart. Kanye’s the villain. That’s the narrative.”
Okay, so what does that make Katy Perry? The bad girl? The misunderstood hooker with the heart of gold? The evil gold-digging nurse who fakes her own death and comes back as her long-lost half-sister? The character who won’t stop dating the slimy douchebag? That’s it.
Sadly, Katy didn’t elaborate further on her dramatic long-running soap opera feud with Sweetheart St.TayTay (because she’s saving it for 3rd period gym class) but she did talk about the Susan Lucci of the pop world: BEYONCE!
Because Katy Perry is a 16-year-old wannabe high school parking lot-smoking badass trapped inside the body of a 13-year-old middle school girl trapped inside the body of a 30-year-old woman (who is dressed like Cookie Lyon, for some reason), she decided to commemorate her epic come-to-life sticker book Super Bowl half-time show performance by sneaking a couple of her dad’s beers into her Keroppi mini backpack and bribing her older sister’s art school drop-out friend Kayde to give her a stick-poke tattoo in his mother’s basement. Okay, so technically it was done by professional tattoo artist backstage, but you know she was pretending it was done on a dirty couch using a safety pin and a ballpoint pen.
I assumed Katy would get a portrait of those awesome sharks, but instead she paid tribute to the 49th Super Bowl by getting the Roman numerals XLIX on her ring finger:
Maybe it’s just me, but XLIX looks like the name of a straight edge strip club. It’s just me, I know. But the best part of Katy’s future finger mistake is that eventually her skin will get all saggy and wrinkled and that XLIX tattoo will look like it says CLIT. Hell, it already does if you squint a little. But getting a future clit tattoo wasn’t the only poor decision Katy made last night; look who joined her after the Super Bowl:
Hmmm… those chichis look a bit…deflated. Does Katy Perry have to make EVERYTHING about her, even #deflategate?!
At the green round table in the middle of the cafeteria the other day, 14-time HS junior and one of the most popular girls in school Katy Perry told the school newspaper (aka Billboard) that she’s not a shady megabitch or anything, but if a petty whore, who shall remain nameless, tugs at her ponytail, she’s going to tug back, because she lives her life like that Christina Aguilera song “Fighter.” Katy Perry didn’t name names, but we all know she’s talking about 11-time HS freshmen and assistant JV cheerleading captain Taylor Swift. The lamest and most immature high school feud all started when Tay Tay said that her song “Bad Blood” is about a conniving, cunty pop star who is her “straight-up enemy” and tried to sabotage her tour by stealing her back-up dancers. Katy slapped back at Taylor by tweeting: “Watch out for the Regina George in sheep’s clothing.”
While talking about her half-time performance at the homecoming game on Sunday, Katy told the school newspaper that she’s not one to get into the ~dramz~ but she’s not going to let some jealous ho bag twat stick defame her character. “Hah, that bitch Katy defamed her own character and snatch when she fucked that creepy band geek slut John Mayer,” said all of us outcasts while passing a joint behind the gym during last period.
In her new Billboard cover story, Katy Perry wasn’t interested in throwing shade. Keeping her eye on the Super Bowl halftime show prize, Perry only had this to offer when asked about it: “If somebody is trying to defame my character, you’re going to hear about it.”
I totally wasn’t going to watch the homecoming game (“More like HoCumming game since that big ho Katy is performing, amirite?” – Taylor) on Sunday, but now I am. I can’t wait to see Taylor get her revenge on her straight-up enemy by crashing the stage to catfight with that trick.
And yes, I realize that calling a 30-year-old and a 25-year-old two immature high school girls is rich coming from someone whose posts read like they were taken directly from a burn book written by a bitchy, unpopular 12-year-old girl who huffs paint all the time. No offense to bitchy, unpopular 12-year-old girls who huff paint all the time.
Here’s Katy at some Super Bowl press conference.
And the runner-up for Most Badass goes to TLC enthusiast Katy Perry, who is hiding behind that mess of face-obscuring purple hair. Sorry Katy, but a middle finger is still more badass than Manic Panic middle school mosh pit emo hair.
Both Katy Perry and No.1 badass Miley Cyrus were at something called the Daily Front Row Fashion Los Angeles Awards last night to celebrate their designer friend and guy who sort of looks like a human eraser-topped pencil Jeremy Scott, who was being honored with an award. And of course, those two made sure to serve up tons of high school dropout-turned-full time mallrat fuckery, because FASHION. They were also joined by Rihanna and Kanye West, who looked just so thrilled to be there. For real! Look at that smile!
I bet that’s the same face Kanye makes when he gets a text from Kim that says “Sorry kurrent husbin, kant kum 2 Paris this weeknd. Maybe u kan do sumething with Riccardo instead?” Speaking of smiling, the photographer who caught Kanye grinning must have taken this picture from behind a potted plant or a group of models signing up for Leonardo DiCaprio’s next boat cruise, because according to Kanye, Kanye never smiles in photographs. During a speech at the Daily Front Row Fashion Thingy, Kanye told the audience:
“Back when I was working on Yeezus, I saw this book from the 1800s and it was velvet-covered with brass and everything. I looked at all these people’s photos and they look so real and their outfits were incredible and they weren’t smiling and people, you know the paparazzi, always come up to me, ‘Why you not smiling?’ and I think, not smiling makes me smile. When you see paintings in an old castle, people are not smiling cause it just wouldn’t look as cool.”
They didn’t smile because it wouldn’t look as cool? Kanye, you dummy, people in old-ass castle paintings aren’t smiling because toilets weren’t invented yet and everything smelled like doo doo and people were dying from the super plague and nobody took showers. Hell, if that was my life, I wouldn’t be smiling either.
Here’s more from last night including Kanye NOT SMILING and Miley smiling all the goofy hillbilly smiles:
After only three days with their cups out, Chilli and T-Boz have panhandled enough Kickstarter cash to record the very last TLC album. That’s right, it only took three days for TLC fans to pony up $150,000, which goes to show you that there there are still rabid TLC fans in 2015 and the world is truly a crazy place. And according to TMZ, one of said rabid fans is none other than 90s-obsessed teenage goth girl woman Katy Perry. You’d think a band like TLC would be too mainstream for a low-budget Enid Coleslaw impersonator like Katy Perry, but maybe she did it to be ironic or something.
Katy apparently donated $5,000 to TLC’s Kickstarter campaign, and according to TLC’s list of donor rewards, that means Katy is entitled to either a TLC onesie, a slumber party in Atlanta with Chilli, or a slumber party in Los Angeles with T-Boz. I bet she’s going to take the onesie. Meanwhile, T-Boz and Chilli are crossing their fingers that she takes the slumber party, because they know Katy’s got the kind of cash that can rent something nicer than 3 hours at a Howard Johnson Express.
And Chilli and T-Boz managed to do the Kickstarter impossible – not only did they hit their goal in three days, but they also beat their goal by almost $24,000. That’s really great news, because that extra money means that when it comes time to design the album cover for this mess, they won’t have to hire the blind retoucher who Photoshopped Chilli’s PETA ad.
Here’s The Kickstarter Queens hosting a press conference with potential future Kickstarter users New Kids on the Block and a cardboard cut-out of Nelly:
After several months of maybe rubbing against Diplo’s DJ dick stick and a possible one-time hit it n’ quit it n’ get tested for whatever you got from it with humanoid Florida truck stop toilet seat sperm Riff Raff, it sounds like store brand Jane Lane Katy Perry might be sliding back down the douche ladder and landing on the Vinegar Prince himself, John Mayer. Uh…get it girl? I guess?
According to UsWeekly, Katy and John were spotted having dinner together this weekend, and as we all know, dinner = hard core fucking. A source tells UsWeekly that the two have “reconnected” (again, fucking), adding that “things just needed to cool down. They aren’t officially back on but talking again.”
But what happened between Katy and her Taylor Swift-dragging beau Diplo? According to that same source (Daria), it was only ever just a hook up thing and they were never serious about each other because Katy was touring and didn’t have time for a boyfriend type in her life. Well, I guess that answers my question “For why the hell is Katy Perry hanging out with a grown dude who starts Twitter fights with teenagers?” Casual boning. The answer is casual boning.
But back to John Mayer. After Katy Perry and John Mayer had dinner, apparently they went back to Katy’s house. NO KATY! You can’t keep wrapping your down-lows around John Mayer’s douche rod! That’s how you get dickmatized. Or maybe they went back to Katy’s house to play a game called Who I Did When I Was Done Doing You. That’s a game people play, right? Regardless, if Katy is going to go out for dinner with all her past pieces, I hope she remembers to brace herself when it comes time to ask Russell Brand how much the bill came to.
Katy Perry Is Pissed At Australian Paps For Stalking Her On The Beach And Demanding Pics Of Her In A Bikini
Katy Perry (seen above making the same reaction I make whenever someone says something insulting about my boo Bruce Jenner) is very pissed off at the paparazzi of Australia. Katy is currently down under on the kangaroo leg of her Prismatic Tour, and I guess she finished her vocal warm-ups early because on Friday she decided to take a walk on the beach. Once there, Katy says several paps started following her along the beach, demanding pics of her in her bikini and just generally being troublemaking assholes. So what did Katy do? Katy called them out on Twitter:
She also posted pictures of three of the dudes stalking her with their cameras, one of which sort of looks like the Australian version of Randy from My Name Is Earl.
I’m still confused as to why those persistent tricks needed a shot of Katy in her bathing suit so badly. Have they never seen a 30-year-old American woman in a bikini before? Or maybe those Australian paps heard a rumor from a talking wallaby that Katy Perry’s boobs are actually two Outback Steakhouse Bloomin’ Onions and they wanted to see the deep-fried deliciousness for themselves? But that doesn’t make any damn sense, because she just posted a pic of herself in a bikini to Instagram five days ago and her boobs looked totally normal. And also because there’s no such thing as talking wallabys, right? Australia, care to weigh in on this one?
And you know you’ve hit rock bottom as a pap when other paps are reading this and thinking “Begging for pictures of a girl in her bathing suit like a bunch of horny 12-year-old boys? Damn Australia, what happened? You use to be cool!“