Wait…so you’re telling me Lady Gaag is a phony faker? Color me a shit-shade of shocked! According to Page Six, Gaag’s message of loving yourself just the way you are is a bunch of born this way bullshit, because she get’s final say over the pap shots that are released of her, and all of them get the Kardashian treatment (Dear Adobe: go ahead and change the name of Photoshop to Kardashian, since it’s pretty much just a tool to make vain whores look like expensive fuck dolls now).
An insider claims that at an event last week, photographers were told to “Smooth out her jaw line and thin her arm,” and “Smooth out and thin her legs”. And if they didn’t comply, Gaag threatened to sneak into their house in the middle of the night dressed like the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and kidnap their children (I guess?) Page Six also says that only one photographer, Kevin Mazur, had exclusive rights to shoot Gaag’s shows at the Roseland Ballroom, and that he claims his Photoshopping will be “very minimal”. Hahahahah! Good one, Kevin Mazur. Let me know the next time you’re at The Chuckle Hut, I’d love to hear your whole set. But seriously Kevin Mazur, using the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills as an example, just how unbelievably fake will Gaag end up looking?
Here’s more of Gaag performing the final show at the Roseland Ballroom (which will now be known as the Rotten Rose and Weave Room until the day it’s demolished) as well as her arrival, and exit after the show. Maybe if the paps are feeling kind, they can also Photoshop Gaag’s wig to not look so much like Sigmund the Sea Monster (it’s not fair to Sigmund).
“Hello, Batman? It’s Commissioner Gordon. I’m calling to inform you of a new menace to Gotham City that goes by the name Lady Gaga. I need your help Batman; she’s super annoying and I don’t know what to do about it. Never have I seen someone so starved for attention. I mean, I get that she’s still trying to pimp out that damn album, but enough is enough; I haven’t stopped rolling my eyes in days, and I have a headache.”
Slow claps once again for Lady Gaag’s stylist, Peter Gibbons, who’s only working hard enough not to get fired. I see this time the inspiration for Gaag’s outfit was whatever DVDs were found laying around the apartment. Let me guess: it came down to Tim Burton’s Batman or March of the Penguins, but Hobby Lobby ran out of white feathers, so you went with Batman. Wow. Such art. Much styling.
Here’s more of Gaag arriving at the Roseland Ballroom for another concert dressed like Angie Jokerelli, The Joker’s wife if he was a New Jersey mob boss. I’ve also included some pictures of Gaag arriving home after a doctor’s appointment this morning, wearing one of Mrs. Roper’s caftans (YOU LEAVE THREE’S COMPANY ALONE) paired with a really beautiful hat/scarf combo. I sincerely hope we see more of that hat/scarf!
You can go ahead and tell your Nana her look is safe for now, because it appears Lady Gaag has moved on from ripping off the elderly and blanket-covered to narrowing in on just one Nana in particular: Nana Lohan, if she got a bit too drunk at dinner (“THERE’S NO SUCH THING” – Dina Lohan) and put on one of Lindsay’s good courtroom weaves. No, you’re right: Nana Lohan would never wear something so cheap (am I talking about the wig or that cheap-looking outfit? You decide).
Lady Gaag must have gotten the memo that the red rose pantyhose mess she wore last Friday night was a total piece of craft-covered FAIL, because she stepped out of her apartment in New York this morning looking like she gave at least a tablespoon more of a damn than she did on the weekend. Gaag didn’t mention what this look is called, but if I had to guess, it’s either ‘Late-in-life lesbian Lana Del Rey’ or ‘Jewish aunt from Long Island who buys whatever she sees Michelle Obama wear on Good Morning America’.
But don’t be fooled into thinking this is merely Gaag’s attempt at dressing normal. No, the Queen of Community College Art Classes is always making some kind of bobo statement about culture and art-culture or whatever. This costume is clearly meant to represent the futility of consumer ignorance in a post-modern, mall-obsessed culture. And it’s all part of a larger performance art piece where she approaches random people on the street, asking: “Have you seen the new cardigans at Ann Taylor? Shopping shopping shopping! It’s my cheat day; let’s go to The Cheesecake Factory! I just bought a new scented candle!”
“Yeah, so I got a nude body stocking, a bag of silk roses from Crafternoon Delight, a red pair of pantyhose from my mom’s underwear drawer. I call it Flora…something something…Gaga Artpop. Trust me, it will look super edgy and arty and post-modern and Marina Abramovic-ish. Can I have my $3,000 now?” - No longer giving a sweet fuck, thy name is Lady Gaga’s stylist.
Lady Gaga arrived at the Roseland Ballroom last night to perform the first of several concerts before the NYC venue closes its doors for good. And true to Gaga form, she took all the attention away from the Roseland Ballroom by wearing a ME ME ME IT’S ALL ABOUT ME outfit upon arrival. Sweet sassy jesus, will you let them have a moment without barging in and shitting your tired community college theatrics all over it? Listen to me; confusing Lady Gaga for someone who isn’t freebasing delusion.
Everything about Gaga is a mess, I know, but something feels particularly amateurish about this get-up. I mean, she hot glued fabric roses onto a body stocking, for chrissakes! Even Adore Delano from RuPaul’s Drag Race is looking at this and thinking that bitch needs to put in a little more effort. What I’m trying to say is, Gaga’s costume is so lazy, it reminds me of one of Adam Sandler’s cheap Halloween ideas from SNL. “Hey, I’m crazy red string hat lady! I’m wearing a crazy red hat with strings! In case the crazy red hat is not enough for you, I’m also red rose nipple lady! I’m also wearing roses on my nipples! Now gimme some attention!”
All that’s missing is a bundle buggy with a busted wheel carrying an overweight shih-tzu named Pebbles, and Lady Gaga would be a dead ringer for my neighbour Florence. And even thought Florence runs the vacuum cleaner at 5am every Saturday morning, never recycles her cans of Ensure, and lets Pebbles fart all up and down the hallway, she’s still a million times less annoying than Lady Gaga.
I’m starting to get a bit worried for Lady Gaga. When I saw these pictures of her leaving her apartment this morning looking like somebody’s South Beach memaw, I became very concerned that she may be running out of people to rip-off. What’s left on the list? She’s cycled though almost everything! The only things left for her to rip-off are cereal box mascots, S Club 7, and Jill Taylor from Home Improvement. And you can cross off Sid & Marty Krofft tv shows off the list, because in the middle of the day she changed into a costume that stole its look from a sleestak’s obnoxious attention-seeking albino girlfriend:
She also looks like a potato bug who’s LOOK AT ME!!! antics are starting to feel a little tired and predictable to the other potato bugs. “Bitch thinks she invented rolling up into a ball” – the Madonna of potato bugs.
In case you’re still deciding what to wear tonight, here’s more of Lagy Gaag (thanks, autocorrect) modelling some very easy to replicate Friday night looks. Do you have a Smurf sleeping bag from the 70s and an old lady visor from Chinatown? Go as Gamgam Gaga. Do you have a stained IKEA duvet? Go as Who Shit the Bed Gaga. Or don’t dress up as either, and go as someone who still has their dignity.
And no, I’m not talking about being a head-to-toe assault on the eyeballs, either. At least not right now. Take a seat in the hallway, you tacky glittery wet Pepto fart of an outfit; I’ll be with you in a second.
There must be a vacant seat at the boardroom table of the Tee Hee, What’s Feminism? Association, because during her interview with Sirius XMs The Morning Mashup, Lady Gaga (or Lagy Gaag) said some stuff regarding the dynamic of her relationship with boyfriend Taylor Kinney that is sure to guarantee her a spot as either Vice President of Don’t Ask Me I’m Just A Girl or Secretary of Wifey Needs Help Opening This Pickle Jar. When asked about her relationship with Kinney, Gaga said:
“He’s totally in charge. I mean, when I am home, I am like, shoes are off, I’m making him dinner. He has a job, too, and he is really busy! I’m in charge all day long, the last thing I want to do is tell him what to do. It’s not good for relationships to tell men what to do.”
If you’re wondering what my face looked like after reading that horseshit, take Donna Meagle and multiply it by 200. It’s not good for relationships to tell men what to do? Who the fuck taught her about relationships, Tony Soprano? Or maybe this is just another creative way to sell copies of ARTPOP. “Gaga, we’re thinking it might be a good idea to reach out to some previously ignored markets. What do you think about the submissive wives of Utah? That’s a potential sale of 5,000 units, which would double the current sales! And if that fails, we can always try pushing ARTPOP to stay-at-home dogs.”
Okay, pink sparkle turd, it’s your turn. If Gaag’s offensively backwards relationship logic didn’t convince you that her brain was replaced with an overcooked ham and cheese Hot Pocket, then the costumes she wore this morning will. I don’t know which I like more: the head-to-toe pink glitter suit that makes her look like a stripper’s toenail, or the silver Reynolds Wrap suit that makes her look like a busted Moon Dreamers doll. Oh, don’t make me choose; they’re both so 1st year art college.
And of course, Lady CaCa’s 7-minute-long music video has 4 minutes of credits and surprisingly those 4 minutes of credits aren’t the words “You’re Welcome – Lady CaCa” scrolling over and over again.
If you’ve got 7 plus minutes of your Saturday night to spare and you’re currently hooked up to an IV full of something beyond mind-numbing, then watch the latest ode to Lady CaCa starring Lady CaCa and directed by Lady CaCa. CaCa’s “G-U-Y” was shot at Hearst Castle (aka the music video backdrop that $250,000 will get you) and I’ve always loved Hearst Castle, mainly because Laurence Olivier might’ve dipped his nuts in one if its pools while taking a break from shooting Spartacus, but this video almost looks like a commercial for a Donatella Versace Variety Show at a Neptune-themed hotel and casino in Laughlin, NV. (By the way, I’d probably suck a hobo dick to see that show. Okay, I’d suck a hobo dick anyway, but you know.) I kept waiting for Patty Hearst to bust in on this video with a gun to tell them all to stop.
“G.U.Y” starts out with CaCa as a Beaky Buzzard-looking ass trick who gets shot with an arrow and stumbles toward Hearst Castle where some people cover her in my cousin’s old quinceañera flowers before dipping her in a pool and transforming her into a busted showgirl. I thought at first that CaCa reemerged in heaven or some shit, but then I saw the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and knew that it was obviously Hell. Actually, I take that back, because before you enter the gates of Heaven, Kim Richards is there to greet you by fake strumming a guitar while lip-synching to a pop song. Because God wants you to start your eternal time in Heaven with a laugh.
Then this happened:
That has to be the gayest part of this entire mess of a video and that’s saying a lot, because there’s a ridiculous scene where Michael Jackson, Jesus and Gandhi come out of coffins together. This is even gayer than the Teletubbies sun baby and yes, I think I mean that as a compliment.
And this also happened:
See, this video should’ve been nothing but 12 minutes of Giggy making that face while wearing that tuxedo. It would’ve won ALL the awards and Bravo would’ve saved 99% of the money it spent on this shit (you know they paid for it). Now that would’ve been true HIGH ART.
In an attempt to have the sales of her album hit the 1,000 mark, Lagy Gaag (thanks autocorrect; I meant Lady Gaga, but Lagy Gaag works too) rubbed some cheap rouge into the cheeks of ARTPOP, thew some pebbles in its shoes to make it walk with a shimmy, and hustled that ho on NBC’s Today. Since we already know practically everything there is to know about Gaag’s latest attention-seeking stunt, including the recipe for the paint used (1/3 water, 1/3 desperation, a generous grant from the Born This Way foundation) the only thing that matters about the interview is that she teased the tiniest clip of the video for “G.U.Y.”
Normally, a new Lagy Gaag music video isn’t much to rip your panties over (if you’ve seen Gaag in her underwear once, you’ve seen it a thousand times) but G.U.Y. might actually be worth a watch, because Lagy takes a backseat to the real attention-starved messes: The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills! Seen above, you have Tipsy, Surly, Drunky, Fighty, and Botoxy all trying their hardest to pretend to play instruments in sexy pink Snuggies. Literally the only thing missing is Giggy Vanderpump taking a dump on the train of Gaga’s dress, and this would be a perfect video. Do they give out Oscars for music videos? What about BAFTAs?
Gaga plans to premiere the video for G.U.Y. at 8pm Saturday before Dateline NBC, which might seem like an odd choice, because why sell to teenagers when you can corner the lucrative market of seniors at home watching Chris Hansen catch predators. Regardless, you should all be crossing your fingers and toes on my behalf that Keith Morrison hosts that shit, because I NEED an over-it pepaw reaction to that video like you wouldn’t believe.
Here’s more of Lagy Gaag leaving for her appearance on Today looking like one of Karl Lagerfeld’s tapeworms:
Seen above at the 2014 SXSW Keynote Address looking like a dead Komondor found in a clear trash bag, Lady CaCa’s ass continued to be filled with her own head when she said that it was exciting to see hos debate on whether or not her puke-filled performance of “Swine” was art or not art. Some (read: the Little Monsters who are always butt chugging themselves some Lady CaCa) called it “art” and the rest of us called it sick shit you can see on some Japanese porn site. Demi Lovato, who wrote about her struggle with an eating disorder in her book, called it NOT RIGHT and thinks it wasn’t not funny. Yesterday on the Internet’s most-used blowhorn Twitter, Demi slapped at CaCa for glorifying bulimia and for trying to pass off that shit as art. Sure, I’d rather hear Mary Margaret’s thoughts on this, but I guess Demi will do:
Sad… As if we didn’t have enough people glamorizing eat disorders already. Bottom line, it’s not “cool” or “artsy” at all. Would you let someone bring a needle and shoot up on you? Addiction is addiction. It’s not “shade” and it’s not “hate”. But someone has to come forward and say it and I’ll take the heat for it. @ladygaga you’re SO talented, if not one of the most talented in our industry PERIOD. Dope is INCREDIBLE.. but you don’t have to do that.
Of course the Little Monsters bit at Demi and she kept on, kept on.
All I’m saying is, artists in pop culture have influence on people.. Some of which are people who aren’t capable of understanding the art that is that is expressed by their idols. Young people who are struggling to figure out their identities are seriously influenced by the things they see their idols do. Whether we intend to or not, artists influence people of ALL ages and unfortunately what people see, people do. Hair, clothes and sometimes misinterpreting things, therefore using the excuse of art to engage in self-destructive behaviors. I’ve been through a shit ton.. More than any of you know, and I sympathize for everyone’s struggle. But people emulate what they see celebrities do or let happen. And that’s why I had to say something.. to let the people who don’t understand the art in it, that bulimia isn’t cool, and it won’t get you on stage with your favorite artist. I can’t NOT say anything because I stand up for what I believe in and speak out about mental illnesses. You’re right, nobody asked my opinion but pop culture is a huge part in leading our generation, we have to continue to strive to change the world. No hate, no shade, just love.
Millie Brown, the “performance artist” who pukes for a living and spewed a Shamrock Shake on CaCa’s tits, told TMZ that she doesn’t have bulimia and that Demi needs to check her words, because she isn’t glamorizing anything. Pukecasso put it like this:
There’s a clear difference between using my body to create something beautiful, to express myself and feel powerful, rather than using it to punish myself and conform to society’s standards.
One time my cousin made this disgusting concoction of Berry Blue Kool-Aid, Captain Morgan and some kind of Schnapps. It tasted like the Kool-Aid’s man’s post-asparagus piss. But since it had booze in it, I drink a lot of it. I ended up puking up this dark blue barf into the toilet and strangely enought I didn’t look at it and say, “I created something beautiful. ART!”
Meanwhile as Miley Cyrus sits on the sidelines watching Lady CaCa get tons of attention for becoming a human barf bag, she’s thinking about what she can do to get the spotlights back on her. She’s totally going to bone a horse onstage. I hear those Trace Cyrus incest jokes you’re making in your head and yes I’m laughing.
I made the mistake of watching some of the live-feed of Lady CaCa’s performance at SXSW last night and I closed my laptop after about 15 minutes and watched House Hunters International instead, because if I wanted to see a dirty crackhead flail around while incoherently spewing shit about art and the death of pop music, I’d take the subway in NYC at 4am. Actually, at any time of the day. Yes, CaCa is stealing from subway crackies now.
During “Swine,” CaCa played the drums while professional barfist Millie Brown, who’s been called the barfing Jackson Pollock, drank soy milk dyed bright green from a plastic bottle. This is Millie’s thing. She’s known for spewing colored vomit on canvases. So while looking like Brooke Candy as one of the Matrix Twins, CaCa leaned back and let Millie puke out Slimer’s piss all over her. CaCa has said before that she was bulimic as a teenager, so getting barfed on for the sake of shocking hos was a really good idea. (“Choke on your own rotting shit, you diseased old cow, she’s obviously using art to work through the issues and demons that have haunted her!” – every Little Monster to me)
Because CaCa and Millie weren’t done grossing everyone out, they took their raver exorcism act to a mechanical bull and kept the puke antics coming. ART!
Well, it could’ve been worse. CaCa could’ve sang “Do What U Want” while her best friend Uncle Terry jacked off on her face and her former collaborator R. Kelly pissed on her stomach. But I guess that would’ve been reductive.
And Doritos, who sponsored CaCa’s set, should really ask for their money back. That barf should’ve been burnt orange instead of bright green. Totally off brand.