Because people falling is weed-infused Prozac for the soul, below is a video of a bride and groom doing the dun-dun-duh-BOOM march into their wedding reception after getting married in Camp Verde, Arizona. The groom tells ABC News in an interview (because THIS IS NEWS) that he thought it would be a really good idea to carry his new wife into the party, but when he tripped, gravity wouldn’t let them be great and they both married the sidewalk. The groom, Chad Kannard, says that the fall only looks brutal and they didn’t spend their honeymoon in physical therapy. They only suffered a few cuts and a fracture to their embarrassment bones. The bride, Julia Magdaleno, says that even though they started their marriage off with bruised ass cheeks (that’s how I want to start my marriage too!), they laughed about it.
“I was like ‘go figure,’ like, I’m so type A where I need to, like, make sure everything’s planned out and this one moment where I just let it go, what you think would be the worst thing possible happened, but I got up and I was laughing so hard. I thought it was, like, the best thing that’s ever happened.”
Here’s the video and you might want to lube up your tonsils before pressing play, because if you’re like me, you’ll scream “Move that goddamn barrel” over and over again. If you’re going to fall in front of a camera at your wedding reception, at least move the barrel first so all of us can clearly see it. So selfish.
And yet, she didn’t even think about letting go of that bouquet. A true champion.
But seriously, why oh why couldn’t this have happened to Kimye at their wedding?! Actually, I don’t mean that. Because if that happened, we’d all be trying to open a can of beans with a rat tooth while huddling together in a cave made of rubble after “the big one” hit and destroyed most of civilization.
After writing about that never-ending train wreck of sad that is the Honey Boo Boo situation, I prayed to the Gods for a palate cleanser and my prayers were answered when I logged onto one of the photo agency websites and these pictures of human rose Grace Jones holding a rose gently swept across my eyeballs. FYI: My irises are now the color of a moonstone and I didn’t have to get some suspect shit implanted into them by a suspect doctor, TINY.
While dressed like a bag lady Sith Lord and wearing stunning Batman logo sunglasses, the Mistress of EVERYTHING left a joint party she threw with Kate Moss in London last night. I throw a joint party every night too if you know what I mean. If you’re soul ever needs a pick-me up, just stare at Grace’s impeccable seesaw eyebrows and you’ll be taken up, up and anyway. Grace proves that if you want to have the brows a maniacal cartoon villain who is always plotting the end of the world, the only two things you need are a BIC pen and a level.
Here’s more pictures of Grace having an intimate moment with a rose in London. You know, every picture of Grace should be filled with roses, because hos should throw roses at her all the time. I also threw in some pictures of a drunk Kate Moss (that’s redundant) dressed like a coked up Muppet going to a Great Gatsby-themed slumber party.
The Internet slowed all the way down today when thousands of gallons of nerd cream flooded its gears after Marvel announced in a nerdgasm-inducing presentation that in the next five years they’re releasing 9 movies including Black Panther starring Chadwick Boseman, Captain America: Civil War starring Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 & 2, Captain Marvel, Doctor Strange and another Thor movie. Basically, Marvel announced that every 1 out of 2 dollars that is made at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing is going directly into RDJ’s enflamed, throbbing checking account and soon he’ll be able to buy us all.
So, as the nerds threw their money at their computer screens and I screamed out loud, “But what about DAZZLER?!”, one of DC’s hos, Batffleck, went to get coffee with his kid Samuel in Brentwood this morning.
Every time I see pictures of Ben Affleck, it looks like his upper body is bigger and beefier and is starting to eat his neck. Soon his pecs are going to be the size of Kim Kartrashian’s ass, his arms are going to look like an anaconda after swallowing Nicki Minaj whole and we’re only going to be able to see his forehead and plugs. Dude’s getting one of those prison yard bodies and call me a desperate, nasty whore (actually, you can call me that anyway since everybody including my family members and doctor does), but I’d totally rim Ben’s butt chin.
Disney needs to pull Aladdin out of its library and completely retool the part where Aladdin and Princess Jasmine sing “A Whole New World” together. When Aladdin sings, “I can show you the world, shining, shimmer, splendid,” to Princess Jasmine, he needs to steer his magic carpet to the nearest laptop, go to YouTube and bring up this magical and enchanting video of a boy cat in drag going on an extraordinary journey on a magic carpet Roomba. Because this video is a wonder.
If that cat’s North West-approved “¿por qué yo” face looks familiar to you, then you’ve probably seen him in the Oscar-winning (in my head) masterpiece Cat Wearing A Shark Costume Riding A Roomba. Max-Arthur the Roomba taming cat is a true professional and artist. He will do anything in the name of HIGH ART including dragging it up as Princess Jasmine. Unless you watch a porn movie where a lady makes a balloon animal with her snatch, Max-Arthur is the most talented pussy you’ll see all day.
Nobody does it better than Samuel L. Jackson and he set the bar so high that not even a fucking butterfly in the fucking sky can touch it, but one of the narrators of your childhood, LeVar Burton, went for it during Rooster Teeth’s Extra Life 24-hour charity livestream yesterday. LeVar Burton stopped by to read “Go The Fuck To Sleep” (aka one of the more important tools in every parent’s survival kit) to a group. More than $240,000 was raised for Children’s Miracle Network hospitals and it’s obviously because everybody pulled their credit cards out as soon as the beautiful fuck word flew out of LeVar Burton’s mouth. I wasn’t really that into Reading Rainbow as a kid, but I would’ve been all about it if LeVar Burton read more stories like this. Take a fucking look, it’s in a fucking book, it’s Reading Fucking Rainbow.
Current ramen noodle-haired tequila tycoon Sammy Hagar celebrated his 67th birthday by performing a show in Las Vegas last week (a few days before the tsunami of trash hit) and to his surprise, he was joined on stage by his former ramen noodle-haired brother Chad Kroeger. What happens next isn’t nearly as douchetastic as you’d think, I assure you.
The Slow Canadian Cocker Spaniel grabs a mic and the two do a cover of Led Zepplin’s “Whole Lotta Love”, and it’s not actually the worst. Sure, there’s more growling than Lindsay Lohan fighting Dina for the last bottle of vodka at Thanksgiving dinner, but my ears didn’t immediately start bleeding profusely like they usually do when I hear Chad Kroeger’s voice. Not to mention that whenever the light shines on his face, it kind of looks like Casper the Friendly Ghost is covering it so you don’t have to look at his double-double douche mug. Casper – so courteous!
And this song will come in very handy later this evening when I’m 4 glasses of wine into dinner and I decide to start singing a cover of their cover. It’s the perfect drunk song! You don’t even need to know the words – you can just growl hurr hurr hurr along to the music! I should practice my Sammy Shuffle now.
Meanwhile, at an airport in Sydney, Australia…
Since everyone yawns with their eyes every time we see pictures of Miley Cyrus’ chipmunk nipples and suffocating cooter, she came up with another way of getting attention by doing herself up like a raver toddler coming down from Ecstasy or like a Prozac-needing refugee unicorn who’s got the sads because they were forced to flee Robert Pattinson’s enchanted forest hair. Trick looks like something from the island of the discarded carnival toys. She’s the visual embodiment of an MDMA comedown. And I don’t know how she did it, but even in that baggy onesie, she still has camel toe.
Happy Hallo-what-in-the-fuck did I just watch??? To promote her upcoming “One Christmas Tour” (looks like I know what we’re doing for the Dlisted Christmas party this year), LeAnn Rimes released a 3-minute long Halloween-themed video, and it’s truly a nightmare-inducing NeverEnding American Horror Story MESS! I guess it’s called the “One Christmas” tour because after watching this video, you’ll celebrate one last Christmas with your family before they commit you to a mental hospital after you slowly go insane from the recurring nightmares of LeAnn’s terrifying evil clown smile from the 1:47 mark.
Normally I’d advise anyone to watch almost anything stoned out of their mind, but NOT THIS! It’s too fucking weird. It begins with LeAnn greeting trick-or-treaters dressed like a crazy-in-the-face slutty Aerobicicse unicorn. Then three elves (who I assume were hired by Brandi Glanville) home invade LeAnn’s ass and chase her around the house while the possessed demon squirrel cousins of Alvin and the Chipmunks sing out the names of the locations where LeAnn’s tour will be stopping.
Then shit turns into The Ring meets Law & Order: SVU meets HOLD ME CLOSE, JESUS when a bunch of creepy images start flashing while LeAnn tries to fight off her toy-making attackers. Oh, but it was all a dream! Or was it?? Either way, I need to see my therapist.
So that’s where Renee Zellweger’s signature squint went.
As her on-and-off again husband Kieran Somethingrather and her kids, Junior, Jett, Bunny and Princess Tiaandtameramowry (Harvey is too good for this shit) stood on the sidelines, Katie Price, the reincarnation of Jane Austen once again injected illegal amounts of extravaganza and glamour into London during a photocall for “May Your Wish Come True,” the 10th novel she didn’t write.
The last bit of shame and dignity I had went away a long time ago when I hooked up with a dude I met on Gay.com (that should tell it was ancient times) who told me that he wasn’t really attracted to me but he’ll do me anyway since he was horny, so I will openly and proudly admit that I’ve read many novels written by Katie Price’s ghostwriter. I’ve read them, because I consider myself a literary connoisseur who fully appreciates when my brain is stimulated by stories from the greats. But besides scholars, Ivy League literature majors and readers of complex fiction like myself, who in the hell is buying her books? You know, I shouldn’t question it. I should appreciate it. Because every time Katie Price queefs up another soft-core literary masterpiece, she launches it with one of those glamorous and hilarious (glamarious?) photocalls.
Everything about her look at today’s photocall was potent perfection from the Shauna Sand special on her hooves to the way her huge fake tits looked like two aggressive melons butting each other to that ensemble which looks straight out of a holiday-themed Frederick’s of Hollywood fashion show held in the parking lot of a strip mall outside of Las Vegas.
That look is a mix of “slutty Liberace” and “Snow Queen porn parody on Brazzers.“In other words, it’s perfect.
In case you forgot, Sister Cristina Scuccia is the singing nun who won Italy’s The Voice after she lifted everyone’s ears into the heavens with her angelic voice and made us all throw our hands up in the air while proclaiming, “Sister Act is real.” Sister Cristina won a contract with Universal and the first single off of her new album is a cover of Madonna’s “Like A Virgin,” because the first line of the music industry bible reads: STUNTS SELL.