Well, here’s ten tons of fucked up that just took my Thanksgiving hangover headache to new levels.
Earlier this year, Shia LaBeouf pulled some Marina Abramovic shit in L.A. when he did a performance art pice called #IAMSORRY after he got caught plagiarizing a Daniel Clowes graphic novel for a short movie called Howard Cantour.com. During #IAMSORRY, Shia sat in a room by himself with a paper bag over his head and props from his career (a whip, a Transformer, a bowl full of hate tweets, etc…) sat on a table in front of him. One by one, people came into the room and either sat across from him without saying a word or talked to him or used the props in whatever way they wanted. I heard stories about how some people cursed his ass out and/or threw shit at him, but the story he told Dazed is every layer of THE FUCK?
For two weeks, Shia and Dazed editor Aimee Cliff talked back and forth online about #IAMSORRY. Aimee asked Shia if there was one experience that was either moving or soul-killing and Shia made my brain melt by saying that one crazy bitch whipped and raped him as her boyfriend and his girlfriend waited in the line outside.
One woman who came with her boyfriend, who was outside the door when this happened, whipped my legs for ten minutes and then stripped my clothing and proceeded to rape me… There were hundreds of people in line when she walked out with disheveled hair and smudged lipstick. It was no good, not just for me but her man as well. On top of that my girl was in line to see me, because it was Valentine’s Day and I was living in the gallery for the duration of the event – we were separated for five days, no communication. So it really hurt her as well, as I guess the news of it travelled through the line. When she came in she asked for an explanation, and I couldn’t speak, so we both sat with this unexplained trauma silently. It was painful.
My brain just puked up a dozen question marks. So many questions. I know Shia basically had zero rules for his performance art piece and people were allowed to do whatever they wanted to him, but you’d think that he wouldn’t have to put up a sign that read: You Can Do Anything You Want Except For Murdering, Shooting, Stabbing, Raping And Choking Shia.
Shia and Aimee Cliff also did a sit down “interview” through webcams strapped to their heads and this is how it went. (Note: If you watch 4 minutes of it, you’ve watched all of it since they don’t say a word.)
That’s pretty much what I did for an hour after reading Shia’s fucked up story.
When we last left the sad puddle of diarrhea and rotten sketti sauce that is the Here Comes Honey Boo Boo saga, Anna “Chickadee” Cardwell had told Entertainment Tonight that she feels betrayed by Not The Mama June and it hurts seeing her pathetic excuse for a mother smiling while hanging around Mark McDaniel, the corroded ass wart who molested her when she was a little girl. Since then Anna told Dr. Drew on his HLN show that June the Hutt’s second youngest daughter Pumpkin thinks Mark McDaniel is her father. Anna said that June the Hutt has made Pumpkin believe that Mark McDaniel is her dad and that is why Pumpkin is pissed off at her right now.
Well, the creature whom Kelly LeBrock turned into a mountain of wet shit many years ago gave an interview to Entertainment Tonight and said that the convicted sex offender who molested Anna isn’t Pumpkin’s father, but a different convicted sex offender is. June the Hutt really does love those pedos. The National Sex Offender Registry is her Tinder.
But if this leads to Shauna Sand starring in an NBC show titled Bad Mom, Lorenzo Lamas will be my #1 hero and the maker of my dreams.
In the meantime, the ticketing machine in the Ninth Circle of Hell is printing out a special VIP ticket with Lorenzo Lamas’ name on it, because TMZ says that he’s still trying to get custody of his three daughters with the Empress of Lucite and has accused her of being a shitty role model and mother. Will somebody please rip off Lorenzo Lamas’ too-tight t-shirt, because it’s obviously cutting off the circulation to his brain and is causing him not to think right. How can he think that an earth goddess who educates all of the children in the important subject of elegance is a bad mom?! Lorenzo Lamas is a bad human for slandering the Empress of Lucite like that.
The whole “Mama June dating a convicted child molester” situation was already ten layers of barf wrapped in twenty layers of shit and dipped in pure awful, but it gets worse and I didn’t think that was possible. TMZ says that Mama June’s eldest daughter, 20-year-old Anna “Chickadee” Cardwell, wants people to know that she was the one who was molested by her mom’s alleged boyfriend Mark McDaniel. This is your cue to heave your way over to a video of a cat sleeping on a red bell pepper.
TLC dumped Here Comes Honey Boo Boo in the trash bin today after they discovered information that proves that Mama June really is dating the piece of shit who spent 10 years in prison for molesting an 8-year-old girl. He got out of prison in March and Mama June has been seeing him ever since, allegedly. Mama June screamed “LIES!” and claimed she hasn’t seen him in 10 years, but TLC didn’t believe her after they found out she went shopping for a car for her child touching boyfriend.
TMZ says that at first, Anna believed her mom and thought it was just a made-up lie. But Anna started to get more and more information that made her believe that Mama June has been filling her ears with deep fried lies and has betrayed in the worst way by dating the trash who abused her. Anna is letting it be known that she’s the victim because she wants everyone to know that Mama June is fifty tons of pure evil.
Anna wants it known she’s the victim because it makes what her mom is doing all the more egregious. We’re told Anna feels her relationship with her mom has been destroyed, and the only way June can see her granddaughter is if McDaniel is nowhere to be seen.
Gawker says that Anna spent most of her life living with her memaw. Anna’s memaw raised her and she moved back in with Mama June to shoot the show. Anna gave birth to a girl on the show when she was 17 and earlier this year married a guy she was dating for 2 years.
I knew Mama June was trash, but I thought she was the good kind of trash. I will never ever trust scripted reality TV again!
Jesus, take the wheel, pick up Uncle Poodle, drive by June the Hutt’s lair of evil, throw Honey Boo Boo and her sisters in the car and drive far, far away. I mean, when you make Pimp Mama Kris and Kate Gosselin look like legitimate Mothers of the Year…
UPDATE: Anna tells Radar that her relationship with Mama June is pretty much dead.
“I believe she is seeing him and hanging around him. I’m hurt. I think me and Mama’s relationship may well be over.”
Radar also says Anna’s abuser didn’t go to prison for molesting her. That case was later dismissed. He went to prison for a different molestation case.
Here’s runny vom vom up my froat, because TMZ says that Mama June has really taken the bad decisions cake, gobbled it whole, threw it up and then ate it again by dating a convicted child molester who just get out of prison. Yeah, Mama June put Sugar Bear on the curb for flirting with some chicks he met on a dating site and has allegedly moved on to a child touching monster. Well, if scientists were wondering if eating massive amounts of sketti sauce and cheese balls rots the part of your brain that operates your sense of reason, they got their answer.
Here I was thinking that Mama June and Sugar Bear’s break up was just a good old fashioned scripted stunt for Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, but it turns out that America’s First Family of Class really has broken into a million pieces and slipped down into the gutter. A source tells TMZ that Mama June’s new piece is Mark McDaniel, a 53-year-old piece of trash who was convicted of aggravated child molestation for molesting an 8-year-old girl. He was sent to prison for 10 years. Mama June dated him when he molested the girl and the girl is one of her relatives. Yeah, so this is just a Big Gulp of GROSS.
The source says that Mark McDaniel got out of prison in March and it didn’t take long for him and Mama June to hook up again. While Honey Boo Boo was shooting, Mama June allegedly snuck out of the house to spend time with her sex offender boo. TMZ has a picture of them snuggling in a hotel bed together if you really want to spend a few minutes of your day cleaning barf off of your screen after two waves of puke shot out of your eye sockets.
TLC told TMZ that Honey Boo Boo isn’t in production right now and “we are very concerned about this new information and are reassessing the future of the series.” Translation: “After learning this information, we have renewed Here Comes Honey Boo Boo for 5 more seasons, because rating$$$$!”
Mama June hasn’t farted up a statement about this yet, but a Dlisted reader sent me screen shots of her (or someone who has access to the Honey Boo Boo FB account) response (which she or someone else later deleted) in a thread on Facebook about this heave-inducing story. Mama June is allegedly screaming ‘SHOPPED and denies sleeping with the enemy:
Mama June has a history of humping on felons, so sadly this wouldn’t be that shocking if it was true. If it’s true, then Mama June doesn’t have to worry about the gnats nibbling the cheese on her Forklift Foot anymore, because even they will be so grossed out that they’d quit her for good. And TLC should probably change the name of the show to: RUN, HONEY BOO, RUUUUUN!
Ever since childhoods were drowned in a pool of barf from finding out that the pastor dad from 7th Heaven is a child toucher, rumors and news have been flying out of everywhere and an already disgusting story keeps getting more disgusting.
Stephen Collins’ career is pretty much lying in a shallow grave. He’s been fired from Ted 2 (and you have to a special kind of creep to be fired by Seth MacFarlane for being a creep), he’s been cut from an episode of Scandal and 7th Heaven has been taken off of the air until they’ve fully digitally replaced him with someone that doesn’t give everyone the heaves (I nominate Preacher Cat). Stephen’s divorce from actress Faye Grant (that’s Juliet from V to you and me) has also gotten extra, extra messy.
Stephen’s lawyer accused Faye of using his pedophile confession tape to extort money out of him. Stephen’s lawyer says that Faye wants most of his $14 million fortune and she threatened to give the audiotapes to the media if he didn’t pay up. Stephen’s lawyer thinks that Faye finally went through with her threats and handed the tapes to TMZ. But Faye’s lawyer slapped back. Faye’s lawyer says that she didn’t give the tapes to the media, she handed them over to the NYPD 2 years ago after Stephen refused to get help for his pedophile ways. Faye denies that she tried to extort cash out of Stephen. She never threatened to release the tapes and all she wants is half of their community property, a trust fund for their daughter and a donation to a charity that benefits abused children.
If Faye tried to extort him, she’s a terrible, terrible extorter. Because why would she give the NYPD the tapes right after she recorded them? That part doesn’t make sense. It also doesn’t make sense that he was the one who filed for divorce and she didn’t immediately scatter for the exit door after he told her he was a child toucher. None of it really makes sense and nobody wins. We all lose. Well, except for my favorite Noah’s Ark hunter Donna D’Errico who got back in the news after she wrongly reported his suicide.
And now Jessica Biel’s topless Gear cover has been dragged into this. (And is it just me or does it look like her arm is in an invisible cast?)
Last month, Ron Teblo, an author and investigator who’s been trying to expose The Long Island Medium’s con artist ways for a while, gave Radar testimonies from former employees and customers of Theresa Caputo who claim that she’s got the psychic skills of a taxidermy cat in a turban and uses tricks to fool people. Theresa’s former employees claimed that before a reading, she gets her people to do research on the dead loved one and uses her stunningly exquisite Wite-Out nails to pull shit out of her ass. In a video Ron made for his site SciFake (via Radar), he claims that Cassandra Cales, the sister of Stacy Peterson, who’s been missing since 2007, wrote him on Facebook and told him about her reading with The Long Island Medium. If your psychic abilities are telling you that the reading was a mess, congratulations! You’re more gifted than The Long Island Medium!
Stacy Peterson went missing in 2007 and her bloated piss bag of a husband Drew Peterson probably had everything to do with it. Drew is serving a 38 year sentence in prison after he was found guilty of murdering his third wife Kathleen Savio. Cassandra told Ron that for months and months, The Long Island Medium’s people kept bothering her to come on her reality shit show for a reading. Cassandra finally gave in and flew to NYC. The session was taped for The Long Island Medium, but it never aired, because it was a wreck from start to finish. Cassandra says that Theresa Caputo gave her no proof that she made a connection with her sister. Not only did Theresa waste Cassandra’s time, but the Jennifer Aniston look-alike with Kate Gosselin-on-roids hair also punched her in the soul by saying that Stacy wants her to stop looking.
“She gave me nothing. She really sucked and wasn’t hitting on nothing. [Caputo] said Stacy didn’t want me searching for her, to put it to rest. It was a hard day for me. I think she was a fake, phony. And lied to me.”
So wait, if this is true, then The Long Island Medium shamelessly took advantage of a vulnerable loved one of a high-profile case to get ratings for her TV show and more attention for herself. Hmmm… I hear a raspy hollering in my ear. It’s either from my neighbor’s fat, old ass cat coughing up another hairball or it’s Sylvia Browne cackling with glee from the beyond. Her legacy lives on!
It’s been a little over a month since Casey Kasem’s soul floated out of his body and he finally got away from the craziness between his crazy daughter and crazy wife, and in that time you’d think that his family would press pause on the crazy to lay him to rest. But anybody who thought that doesn’t know the kind of crazy shit that Jean Kasem is capable of. The gold digging Amazonian dark goddess re-charges her black orb of a heart by sucking in the pain of Casey Kasem’s family. TMZ says that Casey’s body is missing and everyone thinks that the manifestation of evil (seen above at the Emmys looking like a Mordor Betsy Johnson) has it.
Jean is currently being investigated by the Santa Monica PD for elder abuse. Jean pulled Casey out of a Santa Monica convalescent home when he was down and out and dragged him all around the West. A judge ordered that an autopsy be done on Casey’s body, because the Santa Monica PD needs the results for their investigation. But the day before a judge ordered the autopsy, Jean removed Casey’s body from the funeral home. Sources tell TMZ that only Jean knows where Casey’s body is and nobody can track her down. Casey’s daughter Kerri Kasem thinks that Jean left the country. Jean listed “Jerusalem” as her current address on Casey’s death certificate. Yeah, so she could be in Jerusalem, because the Middle East isn’t going through enough right now.
What in Weekend at Bernie’s HELL?
So if you’re in Jerusalem and see an 8 foot tall giant of insanity dragging a man in a wrinkled suit and sunglasses behind her while telling everyone that he had a little too much Manischewitz wine to drink, don’t make eye contact with it and immediately scream for Scooby Doo or the Ghostbusters or a demon exorcising rabbi.
The moral of this story is: If you marry crazy, crazy will terrorize you when you’re alive and terrorize you after you’re dead by tying your limbs together with piano wire before dragging you all around the world. “That’s sounds rather romantic, actually.” - Spalding from AHS: Coven
Awww, look at sad, wittle, sweet and misunderstood Tewwy Richardson making a “Won’t you fo’give me for cumming on faces without asking first?” face. Don’t you just want to give him a great, big hug while wearing a suit covered with flaming spikes? That cover looks like a senior yearbook photo from Lucifer High. But you probably can’t see that picture or these words since vomit from your stomach is covering your monitor.
New York Magazine gave human white windowless van Terry Richardson a platform to speak out against all the allegations from models who claim that they went to his studio thinking they were just doing a photo shoot and they walked out with a glob of his coagulated jizz in their eye. Uncle Terry never denies that he regularly slaps his dick on a model’s face without asking first, but he does say that agents should never send their models out on shoots that will make them feel uncomfortable. I just can’t….
As for Richardson, “when I was taking those pictures,” he says, “I was very, like, ‘Cool, sounds great, let’s do it, great, okay, sure, great, cool, if not, no problem, never do anything you don’t want to do, of course, I totally respect that.’ ” He makes the point that agents and bookers shouldn’t encourage their clients to take on assignments that will make them uncomfortable.
A photographer agent threw a side-eye to that, because they say that Uncle Terry isn’t telling Mariah Carey or Charlize Theron or Obama or Oprah to grab his dick and lick the tip. Terry is going after girls whose agents tell them that he’s really important in the fashion world and they feel like they have to do it or else they’ll get dropped by their agency.
Every model who claimed that Terry terrorized them with his dick milk says that only he, them and his partner in fuckery/assistant Leslie were in the room when he shot them. But Uncle Terry says that his sets are always really professional and you’d think you were getting your picture taken at an Olan Mills. His sets are that wholesome! Actually, they’re probably more wholesome than Olan Mills, because you know the Olan Mills photographers snort lines off of those forest backdrops.
“It was never just me and a girl ever,” Richardson told me at his studio. “It was always assistants, or other people around, or girls brought friends over to hang out. It was very daytime, no drugs, no alcohol. It was a happening, there was energy, it was fun, it was exciting, making these strong images, and that’s what it was. People collaborating and exploring sexuality and taking pictures.”
Terry doesn’t admit to doing anything wrong and if the models he cums on feel bad about him cumming on them, then that’s on them (unfortunate pun not intended).
In our conversations, Richardson was less introspective and more defensive. “I don’t have any regrets about the work at all,” he tells me, “but obviously I don’t ever want someone to feel like that. It was never my intention. But also, people do things, and then they have regrets, and that’s also nothing to do with me. Then don’t do pictures like that again … I’m okay with myself about everything, and that to me is the most important thing.”
The TL;DR version of Terry’s profile is that he’s a creepy pervert predator and he’s going to keep being a creepy pervert predator. Glad we could clear that all up. And who ever said, “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” should go ahead and add, “…unless the cover looks like Terry Richardson,” to the end of that saying.
The last time I farted something up about Johnny Weir and his on-and-off-and-on-and-off-again husband Victor Voronov, they were on again and then off again. Since then, they’ve continued to be on and off and continued to make the winter wonderland swans squirt out dull rhinestone tears of disappointment by being absolute messy, violent, trashy wrecks. Well, the winter wonderland swans are still crying, because over the weekend Johnny Weir allegedly attacked Victor again.
TMZ says that on Saturday night at their home in New Jersey, The Crystal Enchantress of the Ice got one scratch closer to becoming The Crystal Enchantress of the Cell Block when he allegedly scratched and slapped Victor after reading some shit he didn’t like on Victor’s cellphone. Victor went to the police the next day to report that mess and showed them pictures of the scratches. Victor only wanted to report the attack and wasn’t interested in keeping Johnny away with an emergency restraining order. A source (Hi, Victor!) tells TMZ that Johnny went through Victor’s phone and found some test messages where Victor talked shit about him. Victor claims he wrote the texts months ago and wrote them while they were going through a messy break-up.
Victor ran his ass over to Inside Edition and after he collected a cashiers check from them, he spilled his side of Saturday night’s scratch down.
“I was terrified. He was red. I said, if you don’t leave me alone, I will call the police. He would not leave me alone. So I had my phone; I was trying to call the police. So he attacked me to get the phone out of my hand.”
Here’s one of the scratches that Johnny allegedly gave Victor (Side question: Is that shaped like a broken heart or like a dead moth?):
These two messes have a history of Ike Turner-ing each other. Johnny Weir had to go to court in March for biting Victor during a fight and Johnny claimed in an interview with Access Hollywood that Victor has punched him several times.
We all know how this is going to go. They’re going to make up, renew their vows, get into another fight about some dumb shit, scratch at each other, file another police report, cry about it on Inside Edition and so and so and so on. They should both permanently have a seat in separate corners, because you know shit is past the point of no return when you make the Knowles-Carters look functional by comparison.
And in happy gay news, we can all get married in Oregon now! Let’s grow beards and toast to that with an artisanal beer!