Dame St. Angie Jolie and Brad Pitt (no titles) are still in Malta shooting their own Eyes Wide Shut titled By The Sea and the other day a guest star made an appearance on her head. It’s nice to know that the dehydrated, thirsty, Pedialyte-needing creature that was on Beyonce’s head a little while ago grew outs its bangs, reinvented itself as a strawberry blond and found a new job on St. Angie’s head.
By The Sea takes places in the 70s, which is obviously why she looks like the 70s spit up all over her. St. Angie looks like a frazzled housewife circa 1974 who leaves her cheating politician husband after he’s involved in a cheating scandal and joins a cult that believes only weak humans eat food and superhuman get all their nourishment from eating air. Yes, I got all that from one picture and I haven’t even hit the bong yet. Since St. Angie wanted her character to go blond, she should’ve left that dead cat wig alone and brought back her greatest look of all-time. Her Life Or Something Like It look:
That sixth-rate Dolly Parton impersonator hair… Those faded Dracula brows… Now that is glamour. That IS the look.
“Here they are, y’all! Take a good look, cause you might not get to see ‘em for another couple of hours!”
The amfAR Inspiration Los Angeles Gala honoring Tom Ford was held on Wednesday night, and guess who showed up with her tits out? That’s right, everyone’s favorite permanent marker-huffing chipmunk Miley Cyrus! But since the amfAR Gala is some fancy shit, she knew she it would be inappropriate to roll up in a high-cut thong and weed leaf pasties. So instead, she decided to bust open a Sheer Elegance L’eggs, wear them as a shirt, and wrap up her backwoods nipple bits in some black duct tape. Miley is nothing if not a klassy lassy, after all.
THIS is how you do tasteful black tie elegance. Why wear a boring-ass evening gown when you can look like the crazy hillbilly cousin of Leeloo Dallas? Or a slutty futuristic project manager from Blade Runner? Or a waitress at an adults-only murder mystery dinner theater? Or a rejected member of The Black Tape Project (NSFW)? Or a goth figure skater? I could literally go on for hours, but you get the picture. BITCH LOOKS HOT!
And adding to the already dangerously high levels of Appalachian sophistication, Miley brought her gorgeous mom Tish Cyrus as her date. Sadly, Tish didn’t also dress like a slutty BDSM mime; instead, she wore a satin tablecloth and did her hair in a fancy show pony braid. Oh well, next time!
Here’s more of Miley looking like a low-budget Pris Stratton (because you need that in your life), as well as Lea Michele who – SURPRISE SURPRISE – was serving up middle-aged horny cougar realness, Alessandra Ambrosia Salad wearing the Las Vegas showgirl version of Miley’s outfit, and a bunch of boring covered-up hos:
Please don’t ask me what I want for Christmas this year, because last night I received the best present I could ever wish for when I opened up Twitter and discovered that my favorite beady-eyed sex possum went trash rat crazy and was throwing around F-bombs like it was two-for-one pitchers of Coors Light night at Hooters. It was the best day of my life; I was like the half-drunk grown-up version of the Nintendo 64 kids.
It all started earlier this week when The Deaner was papped leaving a sex shop in Encino, CA while his wife was laid-up at Cedars-Sinai with an acute case of famewhoreitis. Who knows if he was running errands for himself or if Tori Spelling had asked him to pick up some more lube to help the lies slide out of her mouth easier, but one anonymous person on Twitter thought it was in poor taste and called him out. That’s when The Deaner decided to go full-Deaner and let a bitch know what’s crappenin’:
We’ve all been there. We’ve all ended up in a booth at KFC after our bastard live-in piece dumped us. We’ve all tried to drown our feelings with chicken wings, french fries and that gross tub of lawnmower barf they try to pass as coleslaw. We’ve all woken up in a puddle of our drool and biscuit crumbs on a KFC table and have watched the sun set 7 times as our salty tears fall into a Styrofoam tub full of mashed potatoes. We’ve all kept the bathroom door shut with one foot as we wash the 3-day stank out of our chonies in the sink. It has happened to all of us and it happened to 26-year-old Tan Shen of Chengdu in China.
Sadly, there’s no video from the actual fistfight between Alaskan teen mom sweetheart Bristol Palin and the owner of the house where she got into a messy drunken brawl with her Ski-Doo Crew, but I’m sure you could watch a video of two racoons fighting over a trash can and it would be basically the same thing. Until then, please enjoy the audio of Bristol giving a statement to the police. Don’t worry, it’s just as messy! It has to be – it’s the Palin way!
During the conversation, which was recorded by Anchorage police and obtained by TMZ, Bristol bring the drama by drunkenly crying that it all started when some old lady walked up and pushed her little sister, which triggered Bristol to hiss “Oh fuckin’ hell no“, aka the redneck equivalent of “Oh here go hell come“. Bristol then gets out of what she calls “the limo” (I assume “the limo” is a nickname for their nicest truck), but before she can find the bitch responsible, a dude knocks her to the ground in her camo-print “thong dress”(the Slut Dress has an Alaskan hillbilly cousin, I see), the proceeds to call her “you slut, you fuckin’ cunt, you fuckin’ this” and drags her ass across the grass by her feet. “Aw, Todd did the same thing on our wedding night.” – Sarah Palin.
But the thing Bristol seems most upset about isn’t that her 5-year-old was in the car the whole time (he was, again – it’s the Palin way) or that her glamorous-sounding thong dress was damaged. It’s that someone made off with her $300 sunglasses! HER $300 SUNGLASSES! Now how will she hide the hangover in her eyes every morning?
And in case you want to see the injuries Bristol sustained, here are the police pictures after the brawl. All I really care about is whether or not the camo-print thong dress is okay! Will it require any stitches?? Pray 4 camo-print thong dress!
“Screw Sinead, the AMAs and the Pope, tell me everything there is to know about the exquisite Leigh Bowery cholita beauty bombing this shot” said everyone looking at this picture.
The American Music Awards and Dick Clark Productions became Sinead enemy #3 (after Miley Cyrus and an empty bottle of ass lube) a few weeks ago when they allegedly tried to use Sinead O’Connor to give their award show a top trending on Twitter moment. I know, award show producers doing their job. CRAZY! In a NSFW post on her site that is topped with a gigantic, blurry picture of a soft, uncut trumpet dick with eyes, Sinead writes that six weeks ago the producers of the AMAs called up her record label and asked if she’d be interested in doing a mash-up of Nothing Compares 2 U and Take Me To Church. Because of the whole Pope picture ripping ESCANDALO of 1992, the producers had to get the okay from the network first. Sinead was into it.
Sinead thought that the chances of the AMAs performance happening were as slim as the chances of her not having a difficult brown time while getting butt fucked by an extra curved dick, but she still waited patiently for them to get back to her. They got back to her three weeks later and said that they were trying to find a “contemporary artist” for her to perform with and they promised that “contemporary artist” wouldn’t be Miley. The producers took another three weeks to tell Sinead’s record label that the performance was a no go. They weren’t able to book the “contemporary artist” they wanted Sinead to perform with and the “contemporary artist” they were trying to book was Pope Francis! The AMAs should’ve gone ALL the way. They should’ve ended all of Sinead’s “beefs” during her performance by getting Miley, the Pope and a dancer in a bleeding anus costume to twerk around her as she performed a dance remix of Take Me To Church.
Xander looks twelve kinds of rough in that mug shot, but it’s that stretched out t-shirt collar that tells me everything I need to know about how his night went.
43-year-old Nicholas Brendon, who played Xander in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, was put into handcuffs on Friday night for breaking a dish and messing with the cops in a hotel lobby. Nicholas was in Boise, Idaho for the Tree City Comic-Con when cops showed up to his hotel at around 10pm after someone called them to report a messy scene going down in the lobby. In the press release from the Boise PD, Nicholas seemed plastered as shit when cops arrived and he didn’t want to cooperate. They told him to have a seat and stay there while they talked to witnesses, but he kept trying to get away. They eventually arrested him for resisting and obstructing. The staff at the hotel claim that during his drunken lobby meltdown, he broke a “decorative dish.” The hotel wanted to press charges so the cops added one count of “malicious injury to property” to his charges.
TMZ says that Nicholas bonded out a few hours later and was released. He still showed up to Comic-Con the next day. Nicholas later said he was sorry to the Boise PD and the hotel staff he messed with:
“It would be extremely helpful, if we could all put this misunderstanding behind us and focus on more positive things.”
This isn’t Nicholas’ first time getting into a messy situation with the cops. Four years ago, he was tasered twice by cops in Venice, CA after he allegedly tried to punch them. Nicholas checked himself into rehab shortly after that went down. Nicholas is also a newlywed. Dude got married in Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago to a chick he’s known for a quick minute. He proposed to her while she was wearing a shower cap. That “proposing to a trick he’s known for a second while she wore a shower cap” situation was a sign that shit isn’t going good.
Breaking decorative dishes during a drunken meltdown in a Boise hotel lobby the night before Tree City Comic-Con is no way to go through life. Speaking of decorative dish murder, I did squint my eyes at that “malicious injury to property” charge. The hell? That charge seems kind of dramatic for breaking a hotel lobby dish. Was that decorative dish from the Ming Dynasty? Was it a Franklin Mint original? Is one of the hotel staff members an objectophile and that decorative dish was their wife of 5 years?
Hopefully Xander gets it together and stops drunkenly breaking decorative dishes in hotel lobbies, because I don’t think he wants to be known as Nicholas the Decorative Dish Slayer.
Uma Thurman started bumping moist parts with Elle Macpherson’s ex piece, millionaire financier Arpad Busson (not to be confused with Uma Thurman’s other ex rich piece Andre Balazs whom I always confuse him with), in 2007 and they got engaged a year later. They broke up in 2009 for a minute, but they quickly got back together and got re-engaged. In 2012, Uma birthed out their daughter Rosalind Arusha Arkadina Altalune Florence Thurman-Busson (I’m surprised bitches didn’t go broke from buying ALL of the vowels for that name). They killed their engagement for good last April. Uma has been taking care of their daughter in NYC, but now Arpad, who is based in London, is challenging her ass for custody. Pull up the Pussy Wagon, because Uma’s got some slaying to do.
The NYDN says that Arpad’s lawyers filed an emergency order in Manhattan Supreme Court yesterday asking for custody of his and Uma’s 2-year-old daughter they call “Luna” for short. The papers are sealed so the NYDN doesn’t know why in Hell he’s coming for Uma now. Uma’s spokeswhore also didn’t give a reason when releasing this statement about this mess:
“It is unfortunate that this very private discussion regarding Mr. Busson’s visitation rights and his participation in decision making has been made public. However, we are optimistic that a fair agreement for both sides will be reached out of court.”
Coke fetus blind item aside, it would be a little surprising (although, nothing surprises me anymore) if Arpad dropped the shitty mom card on Uma. Uma and Ethan Hawke share joint custody of their kids and there’s no scandalous drama there that I know of. But that Arpad trick is a mess himself. Arpad has two kids with Elle Macpherson and they were engaged for a long ass time, but he refused to marry her after one day he suddenly realized that he, a strict Catholic man of GOD, could never marry a sinful heathen whore divorcee. If Arpad feels a sting on his cheek, that’s from a strict Catholic abuelita throwing a chancleta at him from the great beyond, because no so-called strict Catholic man of GOD busts raw nuts in tricks he’s not married to.
This is probably all about money. But maybe Arpad heard that whenever Uncle Quentin Tarantino comes to visit, he greets Uma by getting on his knees to kiss her toes. If that’s the case, then Uma dun goofed and she’s totally going to lose, because nobody should have to witness that gross shit.
The most hardcore, dedicated, crazy members of the Beyhive had their loyalty tested hard today when their God, Beyonce, stepped out in London today looking like a bucktoothed rat chewed on her clip-on bangs. If you show me a member of the Beyhive who thinks this is the look, then I’ll show you a straitjacket that is missing their body, because they are crazy. I know Jay-Z always has a sad look on his face like he just watched Bambi’s mom get shot, but I think that Little Lord FauntleDerp wig on Beyonce’s head is making him extra sad.
Is this Beyonce’s way of trying to get the lessers to relate to her? Because she’s a multi-multi-millionaire who could buy the mane off of a rare blonde unicorn if she wanted to and that dehydrated wig looks like it cost $5.99 and was the last thing remaining at a beauty supply store going out of business sale. That wig looks like it was snatched off of the club floor by a janitor at the end of Halloween night. I don’t even think that wig is sitting on her head right. It’s slouching and making her look like a deranged Klingon Bettie Page.
I really think Blue Ivy found a dirty, crusty, used mop head somewhere, cut it up with kitchen scissors and told her mom to wear it. And I love BIC for that.
Phoebe Price must’ve spent the night in and didn’t grace the paps’ lenses with her star presence, because they had to settle for taking pictures of the rapping Double Trouble action figure Iggy Azalea buying eggs at a grocery store in L.A.Iggy wasn’t having it.
The YouTube description says that Iggy and her sidekick/assistant/friend were buying eggs and frozen turkeys to stuff her ass with when they caught a paparazzo taking pictures of them. The pap claims that Iggy and her yappy Yorkie of a friend put him in a chokehold and spit on him. Iggy shouldn’t do that shit for free, because I’m sure some sucio freak out there would pay top dollar for an Australian lady rapper with a stress ball ass to choke and spit on them.
When they got to the parking lot, the pap screamed, “Do you have AIDS? Maybe I got Ebola,” because Iggy spit on him. Iggy and her friend, Scrappy Doo, screamed back at the pap and told him that they hope he has Ebola and dies. Basically, Iggy and the pap blew sweet words of love at each other.
The equally-as-crazy pap screamed at Iggy to go live in Nebraska if she doesn’t want to deal with paps. That’s my new go to response for ho’s who complain about living in L.A. “Ugh, do you know how long it took me to get from Sunset to Wilshire?” Bitch, go live in Nebraska! “Ugh, can you believe that Trader Joe’s was all out of peppermint bark?” Bitch, go live in Nebraska!
Iggy and her shrieking hyena of a friend went after the pap some more before disappearing into the night. Iggy later threw up some shit on Instagram about how she’s the Britney Spears of 2014.
You know, Iggy could’ve easily made that pap scat. She should’ve put on her “rap accent” and screamed at him, “AH’M DA RILLEST! AH’M DA BADDESS BITCH!” He would’ve dropped his camera and ran for his mommy, because Iggy is that hard.
Here’s Iggy looking like a Cirque du Soleil reject at the ACL Music Festival in Austin on Saturday.