You know Lily Allen is officially back when the nonsensical fuckery that comes out of her mouth is making people rage. Welcome back, Lily!
“Hard Out Here,” the first single from Lily Allen’s new album is a parody of pop songs and I thought it had a prom-feminism message. But I guess I thought wrong, because in a messy, messy interview with the Shortlist, Lily says it’s not that deep and she wasn’t trying to burp out a feminist anthem for the ages.
“It just seemed like a good one to start with. I wasn’t trying to write a think-piece, it just evolved. It wasn’t a big attempt to tackle anything.”
Lily sings about the music industry judging women in “Hard Out Here” and she says nothing has really changed, but that men aren’t the enemy. If Lily performed on SNL, she’d shout, “Fight the real enemy,” before ripping up a picture of an XX chromosome. Everything Lily Allen knows about feminism she learned by watching Real Houswives, because she says that women are shitty to women and she does have a point, but then she lost me when her brain made a sharp right turn on Cocaine Way.
“It’s much the same. But I don’t think men are the enemy, I think women are the enemy. I know that when I’m sitting in a restaurant and a really beautiful woman walks in, who’s skinny, I instinctively think, “Oh she’s really skinny and beautiful and I’m really fat and ugly.” Every man I speak to always says they find that kind of woman gross, and they prefer a bit more meat on their ladies. So it’s more of a competitive thing. It’s weird. It’s just really unhealthy and we’re our own worst enemy. We should stop being so horrible to each other.”
So according to Lily, a chick will look at a skinny chick and think she’s beautiful, but a dude will look at that same skinny chick and get the wet heaves and not in a good way? But women are the enemy? I think I sort of get the “we’re our own worst enemy” point that Lily is trying to make, but then she goes on to say that men want to fuck her, but don’t want to fuck skinny chicks, which I guess proves her point about women being shitty to other women. I don’t know. Let’s move on….
One of Lily’s songs on her new album Sheezus (yes, that’s the title) is about women in music, but again, she says she wasn’t trying to get deep. Then she goes on to say that EVERYBODY IS EQUAL!!!!
“It just dribbled out! It’s not supposed to be provocative and it’s not attacking anyone, although it does namecheck a few people. It’s about how girls are pitted against each other, unlike men. I know you had it in the Nineties with Blur versus Oasis, but it’s not the same thing. It’s like ‘Who looks the best?’, ‘You’re getting too old to do this, you shouldn’t be doing that’. There seems to be a moral undertone when women are concerned that doesn’t happen with men, and that’s what that song is about. Stop this now [laughs]. Feminism. I hate that word because it shouldn’t even be a thing any more. We’re all equal, everyone is equal so why is there even a conversation about feminism? What’s the man version of feminism? There isn’t even a word for it. There’s no reason for it. Menanism. Male-ism. It doesn’t exist.”
Lily says that feminism shouldn’t be a thing anymore, but then when she started to get hate about her words on Twitter, she declared herself a feminist. Lily’s brain: How does it work?
— Lily Allen (@lilyallen) March 7, 2014
I just… You know, I’m just going to stop here and wish all you wimmuns a Happy International Women’s Day! Oh wait, we’re all equal now. Happy We’re All Equal Day!
On Oscar night, HuffPo handed their Twitter feed to the humanized bottle of Thunderbird in a wrinkly paper bag we all know as Chelsea Handler and they let her live-tweet through all ten million hours of that foolery. Since Chelsea Handler is Chelsea Handler she twatted out some tweets that offended people. She made a bunch of people reach for their #pitchforks when Lupita Nyong’o won and she used the moment to whore out her new book about her travels through Africa called Uganda Be Kidding Me. (Yes, that title is real. Kenya believe that bitch?)
— Huffington Post (@HuffingtonPost) March 3, 2014
Get it, get it? Uganda is a country in Africa and Lupita grew up in Africa. And when 12 Years a Slave won, she basically echoed her tweet about Lupita.
— Huffington Post (@HuffingtonPost) March 3, 2014
Jennifer Aniston’s tequila shot pourer also joked that St. Angie Jolie adopted Lupita.
Some of HuffPo’s followers didn’t laugh, didn’t like it and wanted to string Chelsea up by her feet and throw rocks at her as all the vodka in her body drained into her head. While selling her book on Good Morning America today, George Stephanopoulos brought up her Oscar night tweets and Chelsea said exactly what you’d expect Chelsea to say about people calling her racist.
“People are mad at me all the time. If was worried about that then I would be spending a lot of time online. I’d rather be a little more productive. I’m not racist. I date a lot of black people, so that would be a difficult thing to explain to them.”
Of course Chelsea’s going to say that she doesn’t have a racist bone in her body since she’s had a few black bones in her body. Of course she’s going to use the good, old, “I’ve had jizz from a black peen on my face! I am not a racist!” excuse. I’m kind of surprised that Chelsea didn’t answer to the hate on Oscar night by tweeting a picture of her with a black peen in her mouth and “#seenotaracist” written in Sharpie on her forehead. And now I hate myself a whole lot more today because I think I just gave Paula Deen an idea.
If you were like me, then you probably didn’t pay close attention to Idina Menzel’s performance of “Let It Go” at the Oscars last night because you were still slow clapping at Miss John Travolta trying to quiet down those rumors that he loves a little massage therapist peen on his tongue by mispronouncing Idina Menzel’s name. What kind of self-respecting musical theater queen fucks up the name of a Broadway star? I see you, Jorn Tromolto. Some people keep saying that we all need to stop, because John Travolta has Dyslexia. I’m pretty sure they’re confusing him with the other Scientology sweetheart Tommy Girl who would never screw up Idina Menzel’s name. The halls of the Scientology Celebrity Centre were filled with the gasps of the boys in the bath house who couldn’t believe that their grand dame committed an illegal gay act by mispronouncing a Broadway diva’s name and the forest was filled with the cries of the guinea pigs whose family members were killed to make John Travolta’s wig.
Even though John put her name through the shredder, Idina went on to perform, but something seemed off. She looked nervous and jittery and it seemed like she couldn’t wait to get out of there. She acted like John Travolta every time Kelly Preston got naked during the Scientology turkey baster ceremony to conceive one of their kids.
Someone on Facebook said that the music was too fast and Idina was obviously pissed about it at the end of her performance. Hmmm, I see what’s going on here. Travolta messed up her name and then the music plays too fast. That wig-torturing, Bonne Bell foundation-wearing evil bitch tried to sabotage Adele Dazeem! John Travolta is probably a crazed Chenoweth fangirl. Figures…
Either the half-dead Papillon clinging to John Travolta’s head squeezed his skull too tight or he was busy thinking of massage therapist dick, because he royally messed up Idina Menzel’s name tonight. Scientology’s very own pretty, pretty princess introduced Idina Menzel’s performance of “Let It Go” (which is what Travolta needs to do to that wig) at the Oscars tonight and he couldn’t have screwed up her name more than he did. A slurring drunk with a lisp would pronounce Chiwetel Ejiofor’s name better than Travolta pronounced Idina Menzel’s name. Hell, if Travolta had to pronounce Chiwetel Ejiofor’s name, he probably would’ve cast some kind of spell on all of us and tomorrow we’d all be fingering a massage therapist’s b-hole.
ADELA DAZEEM? Xenu, please get your child a copy of Rosetta Stone: Broadway Stars Edition.
iPhone, meet your new wallpaper. If you put an empty Corona bottle in his hand and replaced that ugly ass casino carpet with dead grass, that would be my uncle at the end of every family gathering. Shit, that’s me at the end of every gathering.
Coochies got wet and laughs came flying out of mouths at Caesars Windsor in Windsor, Ontario, Canada last night when George Lopez’s drunk, juicy, bloated gut hung out as he took a little sweet nectar-induced nap on the floor. That picture is the reason why I’m choking on cackles today. CTV News says that police put George in handcuffs at 10:49pm for being messy and drunk in public. TMZ says that George wasn’t charged with anything, but he was thrown in the drunk tank to dry out. George performed at Caesars right before he did the funniest thing he’s ever done and he’s supposed to perform again there tonight.
Somewhere, George Lopez’s scorned ex-wife and her one kidney are laughing and laughing at the sight of her hooker-fucking piece of trash ex-husband being down and out in Windsor. And this goes without saying, but about this time tomorrow TMZ will report that Carlos Mencia was arrested for public intoxication after drunkenly passing out on the floor of Caesars Windsor. The Windsor PD should go ahead and leave a space empty in the drunk tank for Carlos.
It feels like it was just yesterday when Paula Deen’s deep fried butter kingdom melted into a giant puddle that she snorted up to handle with the pain of losing endorsement deal after endorsement deal. It was actually kind of was yesterday, but Paula has already screamed at Jellyroll to fill that Comeback Train with coal, because she’s ready to choo choo along. Paula has a new company with a $75 million investment, a new restaurant next to Dollywood in Tennessee and she spilled her lard-filled heart to People (via The Wrap) about how she’s ready to come back and doesn’t want to be seen as an N-word hurling mess who longs for glory days of slavery.
Paula said that she knows how “that black football player” (uh, she’s talking about Michael Sam) feels, because he just wants to be known as a football player instead of a “gay” football player and she just wants to be known as a humanized artery clog instead of a “disgraced” humanized artery clog. Hold on, because Paula’s Comeback Train is coming into the Fuckery Station at full speed:
“I feel like ‘embattled’ or ‘disgraced’ will always follow my name. It’s like that black football player who recently came out. He said, ‘I just want to be known as a football player. I don’t want to be known as a gay football player.’ I know exactly what he’s saying. I’m fighting to get my name back.”
The hell is Paula going on about? The Surgeon General needs to put a label on every box of butter warning people that mainlining that stuff will make you spit out nonsense like that. Yes, comparing her situation to that of a football player coming out and calling him “that black football player” is a really good idea when you’re trying to scrub your reputation. Well, at least she’s didn’t call him, “that queer negro football player,” so progress!
Paula went on to say that she empathizes with Phil Robertson from Duck Dynasty:
“It’s amazing that some people are given passes and some people are crucified. I have new empathy for these situations, though. My dad always told me, ‘Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear.’”
The drama. Paula still has ten mountains of money, her cruise sold out, she still has a legion of fans who worship at her buttery hooves and just the other day I was in KMart and some lady picked up a Paula Deen pot and said, “Poor Paula, she got it bad,” before putting that shit in her cart. And to answer the question in your head, yes, that lady in KMart was wearing burnt orange capris and rattan wedge flip-flops. Isn’t that where every Paula Deen fan wears?!
The other day, Brandi Glanville dramatically tweeted about how her shit bag ex-husband Eddie Cibrian is living the high life in a multi-million dollar mansion with Falkor Rimes and yet he’s still trying to get child support out of her. Just like Brandi always does, she didn’t really elaborate. A quick minute later, Eddie Cibrian denied it all and said that Brandi is once again smearing oily lies all over Twitter. But both TMZ and Radar say that Eddie is trying to get money out of Brandi, but apparently it’s money he overpaid in spousal support. And if after reading all those sentences you realized that you’d rather ombre dye your pubes in the mirror than read anymore, I don’t blame your ass. Save me some dye.
Radar says that when Brandi and Eddie officially took a machete to their marriage, Eddie agreed to pay Brandi spousal support for 4 years. That was in 2010, so the 4 years of payments are up, bitch! TMZ says that after a lawyer did an audit of all Eddie’s spousal support payments, they found out that he overpaid Brandi by $114,738. The overpayment was for spousal support and not for child support. Brandi doesn’t have to work the ho stroll extra hard to pay him back. The money’s going to be subtracted from her share of his retirement accounts.
But Brandi’s lawyer tells TMZ that Eddie IS trying to get a piece of his child support payments back as well as spousal support payments.
These insane whores…
When these two messes aren’t fighting about their kids, they’re fighting about money. Even though they got a divorce 4 damn years ago, they are still acting like they’re married. Not a second goes by when Eddie’s name isn’t flying out of Brandi’s mouth and the same goes for him and LeAnn. Brandi is a crazy bitch, Eddie is a crazy bitch and LeAnn is a new kind of crazy bitch. They all need to stop fighting it and realize that they just all want to be together. They should move into the same house, get into a three-way marriage and just scream, fight, hate fuck and slap at each other all day and all night long, because that’s what they obviously want. It’ll be like the really dysfunctional, drunk version of Sister Wives called Bitching Wives.
It’s nice to see that the old set pieces and costumes from Michael Jackson’s “Remember The Time“ video got a second life.
A week after the “teaser” for Katy Perry’s video for Dark Whores got queefed up on the Internet and her Liberace butt dingles grill invaded my day terrors, the entire video has been released. It looks like a 5th grader’s diorama on Ancient Egypt threw up on a Lisa Frank Cleocatra folder and the whole thing came to life. Katy Perry’s going to get a barely coherent hate letter written in Cheetos dust from Brit Brit, because Flamin’ Hot Cheetos makes a cameo in this 80s cartoon mess of a video and so does Jiff (aka Boo’s matinee understudy).
I wanted to hate this grade school-level annoying ass video and put my crucifix up to this Illuminati fuckery, because it’s very “Judy Tenuta in a remake of Cleopatra produced by Nickelodeon,” but I couldn’t. I stopped hating it when I got to this:
….because it immediately reminded me of this:
And I cannot hate anything, as annoying as it might be, that reminds me of The Sorceress from He-Man. It’s against my beliefs.
Well, I guess ~cool parentz~ Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith haven’t gotten around to setting the parental controls on all of Jaden Smith’s devices to JUST STOP. The 15-year-old modern day philosopher, who holds a philosophy degree from the University of Weed, let 28-year-old copy+paste artist Shia LaDouche’s know that he’s there for him. An underage kid asking a grown man to hang out? That’s a different one. PedoBear is so confused right now….
Because Jada and Will believe that their kids should find their own paths and none of those paths lead to a school classroom, Jaden has a lot of time on his hands and he tried to go see Shia LaDouche’s shitty douche in a bag performance art piece in L.A. Jaden wasn’t able to, but he reached out to LaDouche on Twitter (via E! News) and tweeted this. Kanye West’s CAPS LOCK key knows the kind of suffering that Jaden Smith’s shift key goes through.
I Waited In Line Today On Beverly Blvd To See @thecampaignbook I Never Got See Him But I Had A Very Important Message To Deliver.
— Jaden Smith (@officialjaden) February 17, 2014
I'm Here If You Need A Fellow Insane Person To Talk To. But I'm Seriously Here Not Like One Of Those I'm Here For You's That Everybody Says.
— Jaden Smith (@officialjaden) February 17, 2014
It Was A Message That Only Could Be Understood Artist To Artist. @thecampaignbook I'm Here For You I Believe In What Your Doing.
— Jaden Smith (@officialjaden) February 17, 2014
If that isn’t the most effective stay in school PSA ever, I don’t know what is.
I was going to throw a side-eye at little Jaden Smith for calling himself an artist, but I scrolled through his Twitter page again and that mess reads like the lost lyrics of a P.M. Dawn album that never was. That is art. A homeschooled 15-year-old with unlimited funds and a weed card counseling a dried shit dingle hanging out of humanity’s b-hole sounds like a bad idea, but maybe that’s what LaDouche needs. Bitch is way passed the point of needing Jesus, so maybe the words of L. Ron Hubbard as taught to him by a 15-year-old who always looks constipated will sort his shit out.
And here’s LaDouche in L.A. yesterday dressed like a trailer trash pepaw who put on his girlfriend’s UGGs to buy a bottle of Olde English and Skoal at the corner store.
I’ve never been pregnant, so I can’t speak to the type cravings you get when a fetus moves into your lady gut (I should read a book sometime) but I thought women were supposed to get all Stains-y for weird shit like chocolate-dipped scrambled eggs and deep-fried Kleenex, not bongs filled with the stickiest of the icky.
Or maybe Teen Mom 2′s Jenelle Evan’s brain has been fried by so much good shit (and bad shit, and oh-shit-don’t-huff-that shit) that it now recognizes weed as a life-sustaining food. At least that would explain why, according to Radar, Jenelle is texting her friends about getting high, even though she has a baby friend living inside her:
“We can smoke and chill on a huge f**king blunt lol,” Evans tells her friend in the Monday, Feb. 10 text message.
And it seems the MTV star managed to find some marijuana while on her trip to Tinseltown too, texting her friend that she wanted to smoke while driving down “the strip.”
“She told me that if she doesn’t have weed she will throw up due to her pregnancy,” the insider told Radar. “So she always has a lot of weed on her at a time.” And when she runs out, the pal claims Evans makes a nearly two-hour trip to get some.
“When Jenelle runs out of weed she will drive from her house in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina to Brunswick County in North Carolina, which is a 2-hour round trip to buy $120 worth of weed,” the source said.
Two hours to get weed? Is there not a Taco Bell restroom with its own in-house dealer in Myrtle Beach? NO! I’m missing the point here; she shouldn’t be road tripping for weed while pregnant. But even if she were to cut out the weed altogether, her fetus is still fighting a losing battle against the damage already done from listening to endless hours of Ke$ha in utero, so CPS should probably just go ahead and ask Jenelle’s mother Barbara to pull another high chair up to the dinner table and stock up on Kid Cuisines for the not-so-distant future.
(Pic: Jenelle Evans)