Earlier this month, there were rumors of an old man feud on the set of Homeland between F. Murray Abraham and Mandy Patinkin. There must be something in the Ensure, because now here’s another story about two old legends fighting. But this one isn’t a rumor. Phil Collins has made it clear that he hates Paul McCartney.
Many of us would probably rather sit through an audit by the IRS while wearing Crocs than sit at a party hosted by gross slug Tyga, but not Paul McCartney, Beck and Taylor Hawkins from Foo Fighters. Tyga hosted a Grammys after-party last night at the Argyle and Paul, Beck and Taylor apparently tried to get in but were denied by the door people. When Paul and company were turned away, he joked, “How VIP do we gotta get?” and “We need another hit, guys!”
I don’t know if it’s embarrassing or a compliment to get denied from that salamander douche’s party. I’ll go with the latter. You’re probably wondering why would Paul want to go to that salamander douches party. I came up with 3 reasons:
1. Paul is a down-low Scientologist and he and Beck were trying to steal Tyga away from that “other” cult (the Kardashians).
2. Paul is losing it.
3. Paul was confused and thought that “Tyga” is short for “La Tigresa del Oriente” and who wouldn’t want to go to La Tigresa del Oriente’s party?
But apparently, none of those reasons are right. The Argyle tells TMZ that Paul got shit mixed up and was trying to go to Mark Ronson’s party at Hyde. When he figured out he was at the wrong club, he left. Even though the video shows them getting turned away, the Argyle claims they would’ve let them in if they wanted in.
Here’s the sad, sad scene brought to you by TMZ:
It does make sense that Paul was turned away from Tyga’s party. I mean, to get into a party hosted by Tyga, you either have to be a teenage girl or you have to BYOTDTPOTANR (Bring Your Own Teenage Daughter To Pimp Out To A Nobody Rapper).
It’s been much, much too long since we’ve all gotten a piping hot, extra large serving of cuntness from gold digging grand champion and one of my cunt idols Heather Mills, so thankfully she was asked to be on Ireland’s The Late Late Show where she delivered a beautifully bitchy gem. Heather, who was only relevant for being married to Paul McCartney, was a little pissed when the host Ryan Tubridy brought up Paul McCartney’s name. Thankfully for him, Heather Mills didn’t pull a Heather Mills by dumping a glass of water on his head, but she did say that she wasn’t there to talk about Paul. Ryan told Heather that people are interested in what she has to say about Paul and she responded by spitting out this shiny jewel of delusion:
“No, they’re not. That’s the thing. If I go down the street, all I get is kids coming up to me, half of them don’t even know who he is. That’s why he has to do songs with Rihanna and Kanye West, so people remember. But you know, most of the time I have people coming down the street and saying, ‘Oh my god! You’re a ski-racer’ or ‘You help the animals.’ I own the biggest vegan company in the world. Most of the money I do goes into helping animals, disabled kids, landmine clearing charities… You know, things that are changing the world. This is just someone I fell in love with who to me was a normal guy that happened to write a few cool songs in the 60s and a few in the 70s. It was just someone I fell in love with.”
1. Heather Mills thinks that Heather Mills is more relevant and “in with the kids” than Paul McCartney. If delusion needs inspiration on how to be more delusional, it should spend time with Heather Mills.
2. We all know that “kids” aren’t running up to Heather Mills in the street. That’s crazy. Most kids have been told at a very, very young age to never ever go up to that witch Heather Mills, because she’ll eat their souls.
3. If anyone does go up to Heather Mills in the street, the only question they probably ask her is, “Do you still have that PT Cwuza?”
UPDATE: Shirley said on Facebook that she wasn’t talking about Kanye West, but was talking about some non-famous “industry insider.” So Shirley decided to blast some no namer on Facebook and not name names while doing so. Shirley IS your passive-aggressive cousin.
Kanye West doesn’t know what that smashed paper bag lunch, wood and Lucite trophy is for, but he still wishes he could take a time machine back to that moment and snatch that award out of Shirley Manson’s hands so that he can give it to a true artist like Beyonce.
Last month, the Internet stood and slow clapped for Shirley Manson after she tore a new one into Kanye West (Calm down and pull your chonies back up, Riccardo Tisci, I didn’t mean that literally) for spitting out some nonsensical shit about artistry and for saying that the Best Album of the Year Grammy should’ve went to Beyonce instead of Beck. Well, I guess Kanye clapped back at Shirley in an email he sent to her privately, because she has Crisco’d up her face, put on all her rings and dragged him again on Facebook. Shirley could’ve responded to the private email with a private email, but that wouldn’t be fun and she wouldn’t get any attention from it. So she wrote this mystery trick an open letter on Facebook.
What’s that joke everyone’s telling on Twitter? Gas is under $2 a gallon, Suge Knight is killing people and Missy Elliott is on our TVs again. The 90s really are back! Well, RiRi, Kanye West and Paul McCartney (MaKaRiRi for short) definitely got the memo, because if you dropped a camera into the bowels of the 90s you’d see the look of the video for FourFiveSeconds.
I’ve tried to get RiRi’s campfire Kumbaya of a song out of my head (which she’ll perform at the Grammys with Kanye and Macca this Sunday), but I can’t. Every time I hear it, I just want to go down to the river and sing it while scrubbing dirty clothes on the rocks as the people around me play the melody on a kazoo, tin cans and a jug. I can’t get that Tracy Chapman b-side ear worm out of my skull. Well, here’s the video for that Tracy Chapman b-side ear worm. The video is nothing but a slicked back RiRi with Vaseline on her eyelids singing into the camera as Paul McCartney plays the guitar and Kanye dances like a possessed Michael Jackson impersonator who is having a weird allergic reaction to all the coke he snorted. RiRi said that Kanye came up with the entire concept up the video and what she means by that is that he took the concept from unisex CK perfume ads from the 90s, because while watching this shit I kept waiting for him to stop and say, “Be a douchebag, be miserable, just BE!”
And back to the song. Has anybody figured who that kid screaming for help is? Somebody call CPS already!
I have a family thing I need to do today – No, my “family thing” isn’t go to Sunday mass at a Catholic church and then feed the homeless a lentil casserole I made myself and sing religious hymns to orphans while my relatives do an interpretive dance. I know that’s how you think I spend my Sundays. Anyway, I’ll be away from my laptop for most of the day and yes, I’m already getting the shakes and my body is starting to twitch from thinking about being apart from my life machine for so long. Every time I have to part with my laptop for more than 2 hours, I act out that scene in The Color Purple where Mister rips Nettie apart from Celie.
J. Harvey is going to cover the fuckery for me today. I’ll throw up an Open Post later today and if anything major happens at the SAG Awards (example: Jennifer Aniston goes Carrie on those bitches because she didn’t get nominated for an Oscar), I’ll post that too.
But for now, I leave you with the song that RiRi says is a “taste” of what her new album is going to sound like. RiRi’s new song called “FourFiveSeconds” is bad news for tramps and hussies who thought she was going to gift them with a bop they can do the slut drop to in the middle of the club, because this mess is the direct opposite of that. RiRi and Kanye West sing while Paul McCartney plays the guitar. I know, those words strung together make no sense. This song sounds like an acoustic cover of a boy band song sang by a bunch children in a Disney movie. I picture RiRi, Kanye and Paul sitting around a campfire, smelling like patchouli and cooking beans while yodeling out this song. Not to mention that on the cover photo, RiRi looks like a teenage runaway from the early 90s and Paul McCartney looks like a brown-headed Martina Navratilova.
If you haven’t already listened to it and want to know what it sounds like when RiRi, Kanye and Paul McCartney get together to do their best Tracy Chapman impersonation, here you go:
I’m trying to figure out what that screaming is behind Kanye’s singing? Is it a goat getting choked out or a bunch of kids screaming at Kanye to please, please stop?