I’ll wait here as you scream at a co-worker or a friend to grab a spatula and pry your parts from your screen. Because I’m sure your coochie or asshole immediately suctioned to your monitor at first sight of Nicolas Cage looking like a Dollar Menu Siegfried or Roy in a blazer from a Walgreens pimp costume and sunglasses bought in a gas station between Los Angeles and Reno.
Nicolas Cage and his girlfriend, Erika Koike, who is giving me Asian Pia Zadora vibes, were papped going to some restaurant in Beverly Hills last night. Since Nic is still watching his finances so his financial situation doesn’t once again become as tragic as his IMDB credits from 2008 to current day, I’m sure he and his child girlfriend both ordered ice water and agreed to share the complimentary bread basket. But I bet the diners around them sent them lobster, caviar, filet mignon (although, Nic probably sent that back since cows don’t fuck in a dignified way according to him), and other opulent food items as a thank you for delivering some protein rich glamour to the restaurant. That was the right thing to do. Because looking like Clarence and Alabama from True Romance after winning a bunch of cash from a Scratchers and spending it all on lip fillers, spray-on beards, and a shopping spree at the Cavalli outlet IS the look.
Note to self: NEVER go to a Publix bakery to order my usual birthday gift to myself, which is a cream-filled, dick-shaped cake with the words “Happy Birthday, You Stupid Cum Dumpster Whore” written between frosting flowers. Because the Publix bakery doesn’t appreciate the finer words in the English language. Cara Koscinski learned this the embarrassing way when Publix censored the word “c*m” from her son’s graduation cake.
No, the “Miley Cyrus” of squirrels isn’t Miley Cyrus thirsty for attention in a squirrel costume. It’s this actual squirrel contending with a Yankee Flipper in this video (via Mashable) set to her song “Wrecking Ball.” Exactly what is a Yankee Flipper? If you guessed “a move that J.Lo pulls on A-Rod during sexy times,” you were wrong!
For those not in the bird feeding game, there is a type of motorized, weight-activated bird feeder called the Yankee Flipper, which spins interloping squirrels around in the circle until they lose their grip on its base.
You gotta give “The Miley Cyrus of Squirrels” some credit. He’s tenacious like you read about.
Didn’t Mimi already pull this stunt? On Tuesday, a tropical storm hit the East Coast. Fergie Fergalicious had to get to the Paley Center Honors (she was presenting) and the Huffington Post reports that the storm caused the singer to take the subway (?). Was there a massive tsunami heading towards Manhattan and she was seeking refuge underground? Isn’t she used to being wet by now?
Today is the day, everyone. Are you about as excited as that dog who looks like they’d rather be tossing a cat’s salad on a fireworks barge as Michael Vick blows a whistle in their ear? That dog may or may not be the one Meghan left in Canada who is filled to the top of his head with the potent sads because he doesn’t get to spend his nights sniffing Prince Hot Ginge’s crotch and isn’t living that opulent royal life. Cruel.
It is two-thirty-in-the-fucking-morning on a Saturday, and usually at this time, I’d be drunkenly crying myself to sleep with Entenmann’s chocolate cake crumbs on my mouth after binge-batching Forensic Files. But on this Saturday morning, I’m soberly crying myself awake with Entenmann’s chocolate cake crumbs on my mouth while watching Meghan Markle marry Prince Hot Ginge, who I thought would always stay single just to give us delusional, miserable, lonely sadlings some hope. He’s so selfish. So selfish.
This is the royal wedding Open Post, where for the next 96 hours, which is about how long all the festivities will last, you can all talk about the dress, drag the guests and count how many eye rolls Prince George produces while I just sit here screaming, “WHY MEEEEEE?” in the corner. The drinking game is: every time a sparkle shines from Prince Hot Ginge’s eye while looking at Meghan, drink a shot of your own tears!
As for Meghan’s dress, “royal experts” think she’ll wear one of these designers:
- Ralph & Russo
- Stella McCartney
- Roland Mouret
Personally, I think she’ll wear a gorgeous red gown that was dyed with the blood of her Ginge-obsessing haters whose hearts broke over her taking him off the market. Damn you, Meghan!
Here’s a live feed of the wedding if you need one:
And here’s more scenes from outside Windsor Castle today and yesterday, including the most unenthusiastic royal wedding goer. That’ll be Prince Philip all through the ceremony:
To the best of my knowledge, Peter Jackson was the first director to attach a cock to a muppet. Back in the 90’s there was a really poorly rendered VHS tape of Meet The Feebles that was making the rounds and when it finally made it to our stoner den, the tape was worn so thin that you had to adjust the tracking on the VCR every 2 minutes. It was grainy and dark and super hard to tell what was happening but it was definitely shocking and over-the-top. Now we’ve got The Happytime Murders, a big budget, super crisp, HD muppets-gone-bad movie starring Melissa McCarthy and directed by Brian Henson, Jim Henson’s son. And it features enough muppet jizz to fill Kermit’s beloved pond to overflowing. What a time to be alive.
Here’s the trailer for THM:
I’m on a real “why, in my day…” kick this morning, so I approached this with semi-elderly destain and skepticism. But I’m not gonna lie, as much as I thought I would hate the jizz scene, I giggled despite myself. Silly string was a good call. But you know, in my day, if I wanted to see a muppet with an erection, I had to ask Todd at the film counter of the electronics store I worked at, if he could get me a copy of Meet The Feebles and an eighth of weed. Kids nowadays just get to pick up some gummies at the potstore before heading to the movie theater to watch a profane muppet movie? It’s just not fair, it used to be so. much. work! Now I see that Meet The Feebles is on YouTube and I’m like, get the fuck out of here (and off my lawn)!