On Friday, Mimi tweeted this picture with the caption “quality time with #dembabies” (Side note: Those babies are only 3-years-old and they’re already so politically active. I mean, choosing a political party at such a young age!) along with pictures of her twins and she looked so fresh and so skinny. But Buzzfeed, being the regular Detective La Toyas they are, somehow remembered seeing that picture years ago. That picture of a fresh and skinny Mimi was used in an episode of Oprah in 1997. Buzzfeed has accused the Empress of Fakery and Photoshop of trying to trick her lambs into thinking that a picture of her from 1997 is a picture of her today. Basically, Mimi IS my tia who cried and begged the DMV to not make her change her 10-year-old drivers license picture.
The picture of 1997 Mimi is on top of other pictures, so Mimi could’ve been spending quality time with her twins by working out their eye rolling muscles while showing them pictures from her glory days of when she was fresher, skinnier and selling 75k albums a minute instead of 75k a week. But I’m going to choose to believe that Mimi tried to trick her lambs with an old pic, because that’s a Mimi thing to do. Why pay your in-house Photoshop artiste $100 an hour when you can just use old pictures of herself? I hope Mimi goes all the way and tweets this tomorrow:
And then a couple of days after that, I hope she takes the fuckery even further by tweeting this:
No, Mimi would never do that. Look at the gut on that fetus. Mimi would make her Photoshop artiste use the Spanx tool on that fetus belly before tweeting it.
It’s been years, decades, centuries and eons since Mimi has taken the little train that takes the peasants to their cubicle jobs and I’m surprised she still knows what the subway is. I would’ve guessed that she completely forgot about the subway and she thought the white steam rising from the ground was from an underground smoke machine that was solely set up for her to have impromptu glamorous Instagram photo shoots in front of. (Note: You truly haven’t visited NYC until you’ve had a glamorous photo shoot in front of that nasty, subway steam.) Mimi only travels in an Escalade chariot with strawberry-scented Hello Kitty fur covering the seats. But since she’s got an album to sell, Mimi documented her ride on the 1 train to the Fresh Air Fund Gala in Chelsea last night.
While wearing the dress that your mom called “too skanky” when you two went shopping for prom dresses at Windsor Fashions in 1994, Mimi and her entourage got on the 1 train and she sat her Wuzzle ass on a seat that a homeless dude probably wiped his ass on hours earlier. Oh, the trials and tribulations of a diva trying to push copies of her album.
I don’t know if these pictures are real. I refuse to believe that Mimi will sit on a seat that isn’t wrapped in cashmere and hasn’t been stuffed with swan feathers. Mimi’s on-call Photoshop artist probably whipped up these pictures last night. Mimi tried to take the subway, but as soon as she got down there and realized that the train didn’t have a bar car or a primping car, she snapped her fingers and her minions carried her back up to safe land.
CORRECTION: That headline is dead wrong, because that technological wonder of an album cover is beyond Photoshop’s capabilities. That headline should read: Me. I am CGI’d. That’s better and much more factually correct.
The horny butterfly announced her 14th album last night and everything about it is ridiculous and one hundred percent Mimi from the fairy tale version of herself on that velvet painting cover to the title to the video explaining the title. It can only come from the Mr. Sketch-huffing 12-year-old trapped inside of Mimi. That cover must be what Mimi sees when she looks in the mirror, which makes sense since every mirror in her house is a Fun House mirror that stretches her legs into another dimension and makes her feets look bigger than Wonky McValtrex’s hooves. Mimi should really trademark that “sucking in and smelling my pits” pose since it’s her signature. The title is equally as ridiculous. The title is:
Me. I Am…. The Elusive Chanteuse
THE ELUSIVE CHANTEUSE!!!
What in Word For A Day calendar ridiculousness is that?! That sounds like the sub-title for the least popular Nancy Drew mystery. It sounds like the name of a Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen straight-to-video detective movie from 1994. The Elusive Chanteuse is Carmen Sandiego’s arch rival. The words “elusive” and “chanteuse” (or “SHAWN-TOOS” as Mimi pronounces it) should never be used to describe her. The “elusive clothes wearer,” yes. The “batshit insane chanteuse,” definitely. But not the elusive chanteuse.
In a video explaining that title, Mimi says that people have been calling her that lately and by people she means the minions who were told by her to refer to her as the “elusive chanteuse” from now on. Mimi also says in the video that the she got the “Me. I Am” part from a self-portrait she drew of herself when she was 3. You know she totally drew that last week. The pack of Reds was a nice touch.
That self-portrait looks more like Mimi than that album cover does.
With all that being said, I love the title and the album cover. Only Mimi.
Here’s Photoshop’s most devoted customer on the cover of Wonderland’s May issue looking like a seasoned ho at the Bunny Ranch who is trying to keeping it one hundred percent sexy for her john while squeezing her butt cheeks for dear life because a fart is trying to leak out and touch someone’s nostrils. Mimi’s in-house staff of Photoshop’s artists obviously used every tool in the box to Photoshop her until she looked like a skinny pantyhose doll and that’s fine and everything, but they should’ve touched up that wonk eye while they were at it. Terry Richardson shot this, so Mimi’s probably got a touch of wonk eye, because 5 minutes before he took this picture he coated her eyeball with Jizzine. It’s Terry’s signature.
Sure, you can be jealous of Mimi for having a savings account that looks like the inside of Scrooge McDuck’s gold vault and for having the largest collection of Hello Kitty shit outside of Asia, but there’s a real reason to be jealous of the rainbow butterfly Wuzzle duchess. The name “Kardashian” has never passed through the unicorn queef bubble she lives in. The name “Kim Kardashian” is as foreign to Mimi as the word “no” is.
Mimi’s well-trained toy husband Nick Cannon was on Howard Stern yesterday whoring out his latest little project to remind people once again that he has jobs outside of being Mr. Mariah Carey (uh huh) and Howard brought up Kim Katrashian’s name. Howard said that Mimi was upset that Nick once stuck it in Kim’s 2nd Street Tunnel pussy, but Nick says that isn’t so, because she knows Kim as well as she knows JLo. via UsWeekly
“You know, I don’t think so, no. ‘Cause honestly, my wife, she don’t even know who Kim Kardashian is. She doesn’t pay attention to that. I think it was more about the fact…[that I spent] time on my past.”
You might’ve thrown a “Wuzzle,please” look at that statement since all of us can’t turn our heads without our cheeks brushing up against Kim’s greasy silicone factory of an ass and Mimi would make Nick throw shade so she doesn’t have to, but I actually believe this. Because here’s a comprehensive and accurate list of the people that Mariah Carey doesn’t know.
1. Everyone not named Mariah Carey. The end.
Mimi probably doesn’t even know who Nick Cannon is most of the time. Her life is like that 50 First Dates movie. Every morning, she wakes up, looks at Nick likes he’s a stranger and after he explains to her who he is, she says, “oh,” before staring at herself in the mirror above her bed for two hours.
And here’s Mimi posing with some tea while leaving Terry Richardson‘s studio in NYC last night. Mimi is truly a refined lady, because she made sure to wipe Uncle Terry’s jizz off of her glasses with that tissue paper before she came out to pose for those paps.
Someone crack a window; it smells too much like pure alagance and tasteful saphisticating in here (with just a whisper of candy heart farts). On Friday, Mariah Carey caused the largest recorded case of Type 2 Diabetes when she uploaded a high-fructose corn syrup-soaked Valentine’s Day photoshoot to Facebook, with each picture of Mimi and her jumbo jawbreaker candy tits captioned “Waiting for my Valentine”, “Still Waiting”, and “No Valentine yet”. I like how she makes it seem like she was waiting for Nick Cannon to get home from work or something; just call down to the den and tell him to turn off the Xbox and get his ass upstairs.
Mimi’s gone though a Rainbow phase, a Butterfly phase, and now it looks like we have to wade through her Candy and Champagne phase, which is great, because I can’t get enough of those ex-porn star sketches from SNL. Actually, the more of them I watch, the more I’m starting to think they’ve based their characters on drowsy current-day Mariah. “Can we find an interview on YouTube where Mariah tries to pronounce Louis Vuitton?”
At this point, most of us have seen Mimi’s squeezed-together unicorn chichi domes so many times that when we do see them, we stare at them for a second, sigh and then go back to eating cookie spread straight out of the jar. It’s kind of like if every time you were waiting for the bus at your regular stop, an old man ran by and flashed his peen at you. At first your interest would peak and then after the 100th time it’d be like watching Miley twerk. Your emotions would go from “!” to “….” (Unless you’re a desperate piece of trash like me who always goes “!” when he sees any kind of peen.) So since Mimi is a true artist and is always coming up with new and creative ways to get you to look at her chichis, she smeared them with stripper glitter for her video for “You’re Mine (Eternal).” Mimi wanted to spell out the words “LOOK AT MY TITS” on her chest with Lisa Frank stickers, but the director didn’t think that fit the theme. The theme being that Mimi needs to show as much of her butterfly skin as possible.
That video looks like a remake of Splash starring only Wuzzles.
It’s just a topless Mimi looking confused while straddling a chair that her twins decorated using crap they found in the fake plant section at Michael’s, and a topless Mimi looking confused while giving herself a sensual breast exam near a waterfall, and Mimi looking confused and crampy while swimming in a pool. It’s only slightly less sadder than Blackfish. The director also threw in random shots of a topless Trey Songz in there too. The director should’ve made Trey hold Mimi’s tits. It would’ve been good for continuity purposes and it would’ve given Mimi’s arms and hands a break from covering her Swift Wind nipples all the time. Gold butterfly pasties: Mimi needs some so her hands can rest every now and again.
On two positive notes, I like sparkly things, so I like all that stripper glitter and at least Mimi is forever dedicated to being that trick who says, “Um, my tits are down there,” when you look her in the eyes.
I also don’t recommend you listen to the song at all, but that’s just my unsolicited medical advice (please just let me believe that the billions of hours I’ve wasted watching Dr. Oz make me some kind of medical expert. It’s all I have).
Mariah Carey, in association with The Silicone Awareness Initiative, debuted her new single You’re Mine (Eternal) at BET Honors Saturday night, but since there were only pictures and no audio, we had to put on our thinking caps and imagine what the song sounded like. Personally, I started with Touch My Body, threw in a handful of ‘oooohs’ and ‘babys’ from Honey, then remembered Mimi chose to perform the song by sitting on the stage like a walrus at SeaWorld waiting for her trailer to throw a fish into her mouth, and slowed it all dowwwwwn. And I was pretty close; You’re Mine (Eternal) was released today, but it’s much more monotonous and Mimi sounded much more drowsy. It sort of sounds like the shit they make you listen to when you do one of those overnight sleep studies, or when you’re trying to get a baby to sleep and you set the white noise machine to “calming metronome”. Even the lyrics are just so rudimentary and boring; it sounds like if Patrice Wilson stopped writing songs for 13-year-old girls and moved on to writing songs for grown women with the mentality of a 13-year-old girl. Mind is rhymed with mine so goddamned much, I kept checking to see if the song was co-written by Dem Babies and a Fisher-Price Laugh & Learn.
But the most offensive thing about this song (at least until a video is made, then all bets are off) is that lazily-Photoshoped stock picture of Conversation Hearts. Ah, Conversation Hearts: the grossest of Valentine’s Day candy. Nothing says “The Dollar Store was still open” like Conversation Hearts.
Here’s Mimi in NYC after debuting You’re Mine (Eternal) on Z100 this morning. Shit, even she can’t keep her eyes open after listening to it:
The BET Honors celebrated the careers of Aretha Franklin, Ice Cube and Berry Gordy in DC on Saturday night and the horny butterfly unicorn princess Mimi paid tribute to Aretha’s 8th world wonder chichis by squeezing and propping up her own tits during her performance. Yes, Aretha Franklin’s sleeping walrus chichis could easily eat Mimi’s tits whole and Aretha’s nipples are bigger than Mimi’s chest domes, but it was still a nice and fitting homage. (Although, every damn occasion is an occasion for Mimi to bring her tits out.)
While her oversized concha bread titties tried to hold onto that tit tape and keep from popping out of her elegant gown, Mimi rolled around on a piano like a grizzly bear with fleas scratching its back and yodeled out her new song “You’re Mine.” Here’s more of Mimi looking like a half drunken Capri Sun pouch (copyright: the always right Fresh) dressed up like Jessica Rabbit (“I’m not bad, I’m just Photoshopped that way“) at the BET Honors which airs later this month. Everything about this look is dignified and regal from her armpit cleavage to the top of her Spanx coming out to play.
Um, where do I submit my application/credentials to be the red carpet fluffer at next year’s SAG Awards?
Before a bunch of actors went into the Shrine Auditorium in L.A. to suck each other off while accepting their SAG Award, Bradley Cooper got a little dude-on-dude action on the red carpet. You’re probably looking at that picture and thinking, “John Travolta lost a bunch of chunk and finally got a believable wig!” That picture does look like the Scientology version of taking communion.
At first I thought the dude on his knees was Leonardo DiCatchAHo and B. Coop lured him to his crotch by putting Victoria’s Secret Angel wings on his dick. But E! says that the dude who got a face full of Cooper crotch is Ukrainian prankster Vitalii Sediuk. Vitalii tried to crash Adele’s speech at the Grammy’s last year but JLo’s hungry hungry hippo ass swallowed him up and spit him out in the parking lot. When B. Coop, Mandy Patinkin and Michael Pena realized that Vitalii was turning that red carpet into a glory hole (without the wall), they laughed, they picked him up and the crotch sniffer was escorted off of the carpet. Surprisingly, he didn’t get his ass whooped. So when some Ukrainian prankster puts his face on a dude’s dick area without permission, he’s gently escorted out of the area. But when I do the same thing with a fellow consenting gay at Runyon Canyon Park, I get tased by the police and dragged off to jail. Got it.
Here’s more of B. Coop and the other dudes of the SAG Awards.