RiRi doesn’t really have anything to sell right now, besides her daily pap walks, Instagram posts and bottles of stank, but she’s on the cover of Vanity Fair and in the interview, she says words about everything from Chris Brown to casual boning to Rachel Dolezal. If your brain completely erased every memory of Rachel Dolezal, I’m jealous of you. But let me remind you who that mess is. Rachel Dolezal is Sideshow Bob’s transracial second cousin who pretended to be black and was the only thing the media talked about for a little while. You know, she was the Kim Davis of June 2015. We all forgot about Rachel Dolezal until RiRi said her name again. Damn you, RiRi, you woke the fame whore beast! But before we get to that…
And now in “Whose name is being angrily scrawled into Wheelchair Jimmy’s diary while he fights back tears” news, Rihanna might be rubbing her ooh-na-nas against rapper and record producer Travis Scott. So for those of you keeping a tally of who Rihanna has been maybe fucking in 2015, go ahead and add another zero, because I’m pretty sure we just hit the 1,000,000 mark. A single tear of pride just slid down RiRi’s rumored former fuck friend Leo DiCaprio’s face and splashed onto a model’s bony ass cheek.
According to TMZ, RiRi and Travis Scott, who co-wrote and produced “Bitch Better Have My Money“, have been hanging out in New York all week. Then on Thursday night, she and Travis was spotted canoodling (don’t worry, my brain and I plan on driving ourselves off a cliff, Thelma & Louise-style, for using that word) at a NYFW afterparty she was hosting. TMZ got a blurry Blair Witch-looking video of them acting like horny teenagers at a school dance, because why wouldn’t you want to see that?
I know nothing about RiRi’s new man, except for that his name sounds like every BMX competitor at the X Games, so I did a little research. According to Wikipedia, Travis Scott – who was born Jacques Webster, which is a hot name – has said that one of his influences is Björk. Welp, that’s all I need to know. Anyone who is down with the ageless Icelandic fever dream pixie gets an automatic thumbs up from me.
Here’s more of RiRi and Travis at her NYFW afterparty. Sidenote: I love RiRi’s lipstick. “I just blew Boo Berry” is always a makeup look that works.
On Sunday, a possible new couple alert was born after TMZ ran into an NBA player named Matt Barnes of the Memphis Grizzlies. TMZ asked Matt to confirm a rumor that he was currently humping on Rihanna, and according to Matt Barnes, Rihanna is his “friend right now“, but added that he’s waiting to “see where it goes.” He also kept it vague by saying that their relationship just passed the crush stage.
Unfortunately, not that long after Matt confessed his love for Rihanna, someone decided to roll up on Matt Barnes, throw the vehicle into reverse, and repeatedly back over his heart. And that person was Rihanna. Once Princess Ooh Na Na (who is also rumored to be doing Lewis Hamilton) found out that Matt Barnes was telling everyone they were dating, she hopped on Instagram to set the record straight.
You know Matt Barnes didn’t even look at those hashtags. All he saw was that Rihanna posted his picture on her Instagram, and now he’s twirling around the house singing “Rihannaaaaa…I was just Instagrammed by a girl named Rihannaaaa…” like Tony from West Side Story.
But honestly, even if Rihanna was letting him rub up on her blap blap blap, Matt Barnes should have known better. There is no crush stage when courting Rihanna. The stages are as follows:
1) You approach RiRi and ask if you can buy her her favorite drink (vodka and stripper booty sweat)
2) You stand perfectly still while RiRi lights a joint by striking a match off your dick
3) You wait patiently for RiRi’s security team to motion you over and inform you that you’ve been given clearance to spend the night aboard RiRi’s intergalactic fuck ship
And if you don’t flinch during the joint lighting, then she proposes marriage. Duh, Matt, everybody knows this. Here’s more of Rihanna at dinner last night. For why she’s dressed like a no-fucks-given camp counselor, I have no idea.
Before all the full-fledged foolery of the day dirties up our pristine and innocent brains, let’s fill it with some potent Dynasty eleganza brought to you by RiRi.
While dehydrated dandelion Taylor Swift once again painted herself up as the poor, wittle victim during Nicki Minaj’s Twitter monologue about the MTV VMAs (again, all that DRAMA over the VMAs) and racism in the music industry, RiRi took advantage of all the eyeballs going to Twitter to watch the “beef” that never fully cooked by tweeting an ad for her new perfume.
RiRi is releasing another perfume, called RiRi by Rihanna, that will collect dust on the shelves of a Ross near you. No, I’m sure RiRi by Rihanna will replace water as the most used liquid in the world. Everyone will buy RiRi’s new bottle of stank by the case thanks to that stunningly exquisite ad. That ad is the point of glamour where a Mario Casilli portrait and the ad for Joan Collins’ perfume meet. That ad looks like it was shot at a Glamour Shots in the Paramus Park Mall in the late 80s and was conceived by Swan Brooner.
I can smell the Vaseline on the camera lens from here and that is truly a glamorous scent. If RiRi by Rihanna doesn’t smell like Vaseline, cheap lip gloss, wet satin and AquaNet, RiRi should be sued for false representation! But that ad really is the dose of glamour I needed today.
And here’s RiRi at LAX serving up more glamour by giving us Sideshow Bob from the neck up, sloppy 90s frat boy from neck to ankle and Rhonda from Laverne & Shirley from the ankle down.
Oh, You Know, It’s Just A Blood-Covered RiRi Smoking It Up While Lounging On A Mound Of Money In A Trunk
It only took 45 hundred years, but late last night, RiRi finally released the video for her ear-murdering song “Bitch Better Have My Money” and the first thing you should know is that it’s seven fucking minutes fucking long. These pop tricks and their Imitation of Christ-sized music videos. Ain’t nobody got time for RiRi’s 7-minute-long video. Well, nobody but me, because I watched all of it last night. Twice. Okay, thrice.
RiRi “co-directed” this video (read: She directed herself to smoke a blunt while the other co-director did everything else) and she said the video’s entire concept came to her 8 months ago. In other words, this video is what RiRi’s brain gave birth to as she smoked some PCP laced weed while watching an episode of Dexter. Some people have been comparing this shit to “Bad Blood,” but that’s like comparing a pink crochet bunny in boxing mittens to a wolf with a chainsaw. It’s like “Bad Blood” if “Bad Blood” was conceived and directed by a first year film student who wants to be the next Tarantino or Eli Roth. Besides, instead of having 500 cameos from people you don’t care about, it has the only cameo any music video needs: HANNIBAL LECTER!
If you have 7 minutes of your day to waste and haven’t seen it already, here it is. The CliffsNotes version is: RiRi kidnaps a rich bitch, strips and tortures rich bitch with help from her homegirl henchwomen, forces rich bitch to smoke the good shit, smiles at a cop, chills in a paddling pool and eventually goes Patrick Bateman on rich bitch’s husband Hannibal (aka the bitch who owes her money).
My only question besides “What THEE fuck?” is: What happened to rich bitch’s Pom?!
I was hoping that at the very end, rich bitch’s Pom would’ve crashed through a window with a machete in its paws and took every one. The final shot should’ve been of rich bitch’s Pom smoking a Snausage while relaxing on that mound of money in a trunk.
And here’s RiRi, her pierced nipple and her brother leaving a restaurant in L.A. the other night.
And now we know what it looks like when Rihanna mimes a bored wave with a pile of cash in her hand.
RiRi showed up to the BET Awards last night, because a party truly isn’t a party until Princess Pass-The-Blunt arrives. And also because she’s got a new video to hustle. “Bitch Better Have My Money“, a song which I assume is about Rihanna shaking down Rita Ora for a portion of her unlicensed impersonator profits, has been assaulting our ears with yuh-yeahs and blap-blap-blaps since March. Three months later, it looks like we’re finally getting a video. RiRi showed a trailer for “Bitch Better Have My Money” (the whole video gets released on Thursday) last night during the BET Awards, and she did it in the most RiRi way possible: by whipping a stack of cash at BET President of Programming Stephen Hill’s face before she stepped on stage.
During a live interview with Brunch Night! with Jamie LeLo (via UsWeekly) on Saturday night, Saturday Night Live‘s Sasheer Zamata told a story about her first meeting with intergalactic singing marijuana princess Rihanna. Sasheer has been playing RiRi in a variety of sketches for a while now (like above, where she played RiRi in a Barbadian remake of Blossom called B’Lossom), but until a few weeks ago, she had never met the Ooh Na Na one. Well, it finally happened when RiRi performed as the musical guest during the season finale episode on May 16th, and according to Sasheer, it was all kinds of awkward and weird.
“We had had a good night after the dress rehearsal, and she turned around and saw me and she was like ‘Hey!’ and she gave me a hug. Then she got drunker progressively throughout the show, and at the end of good nights for the actual show, I went up to give her a hug because I was like ‘We’re good, we’re besties now.’ And I was like ‘Hey!’ and she was like [mimes bored wave]. So I was like ‘Ohhh, wow your true feelings are coming out!'”
[Mimes bored wave] might be the most effortless shade I’ve ever seen. I just pictured that rude bitch Rihanna popping her hand in a “scoot, trick” way, and I died. I died so hard, I came back to life as Rihanna’s bored wave. I love it so much, I might actually say “mimes bored wave” every time I’m over something and don’t have the energy to lift my hand and flick my wrist.
Sasheer shouldn’t take it personally, though. RiRi does drunk at a level far beyond the average human can comprehend, so who even knows if RiRi was directing her bored wave to Sasheer. She could have been summoning the invisible Great Gazoo-like friend that appears every time she gets ripped. Who knows? She’s a mystery.
Speaking of mystery, here’s RiRi strolling through the airport on her way to London earlier today. Why is RiRI wearing the same sweatshirt I wore every day in the 12th grade with the same number of redundant bobby pins I stuck in my hair? Who knows? She’s a mystery!
DC Is Trying To Stop Rihanna From Trademarking Her Real Name (Robyn) Because It’s Too Close To Robin
Normally stories about legal stuff like trademarks and copyrights will cause my brain to pack up a sandwich to go and run for the nearest exit (for real, I’m helpless without those Law & Order DUN DUNs). But this time it stuck around because I do love a good “And this is a lawsuit because?” story. Page Six says that DC Entertainment – the people who own the rights to Batman and Superman and such – are lawyering up because they just found out that Rihanna wants to trademark her real name, Robyn. And they’re pissed, because they think Robyn is too damn close to the name of Batman’s sidekick Robin. I know; go ahead and insert all your Rihanna “Sure, bitch” GIFs here.
Princess Ooh Na Na tried to register the name “Robyn” back in June of 2014 and was hoping to use it to launch an online magazine. But it wasn’t until last week that DC filed a formal complaint with the US Patent and Trademark office (I guess DC was too busy being hypnotized by the sexy fuck-me eyes of Aquaman to realize what she had done). DC claims that Robyn is “virtually identical” to Robin and that “consumers are likely to be deceived” by an online magazine called Robyn.
They also add that Robin has a good reputation as Batman’s sidekick and that Rihanna’s registration “is likely to cause dilution by blurring and tarnishing the famous opposer’s mark.” Yeah, I’m pretty sure Batman & Robin already took care of that.
Lawyers for both RiRi and DC have yet to comment on this mess.
DC clearly doesn’t know their audience if they think Batman fanboys would ever misspell “Robin” as “Robyn“. Are you serious, DC? That’s like a die-hard Star Wars nerd typing “semi-nude pics Jon Solo” into the internet. As if I would ever. I mean…uh…not me. Someone else who is looking for half-naked pictures of a young Harrison Ford.
Here’s RiRi sneaking out of a NYC hotel early this morning after getting her hair done. Hmmm…creeping around at night, trying to hide her identity; maybe she IS Batman’s sidekick?
Because Hollywood is basically high school and the Met Gala is basically the prom (the Oscars are really more of an awards ceremony celebrating outstanding achievement in awesomeness or student council elections), it shouldn’t be surprising that one of the cool girls would have one of the desperate wannabes banned from her afterparty. According to The Sun (via The Mirror), Rihanna had her low-budget equivalent Rita Ora banned from her Met Gala afterparty. Looks like we can cross Rita Ora’s name off the list of possible “sources” who saw Bradley Cooper making out with Irina Shayk.
A “source” says that when it came time to make out the guest list for her party, Princess Ooh Na Na made it very clear that her future Legends In Concert look-alike wouldn’t be getting an invitation and that she shouldn’t be let in under any circumstances. The source then went on to add that RiRi “has a real issue with Rita and this was her chance for revenge.” Not only did RiRi deny RitRit a spot on the guest list, she also made things awkward with Rita and Cara Delevingne. Rita and Cara used to be friends, but she’s apparently Rihanna’s friend now.
However, a source close to Rita (so, basically Rita) claims that Rita never planned on going to RiRi’s party because she was going to one hosted by Lady Gaga. That sound you just heard was the entire world shouting “Sure, Jan.”
There’s a million reasons why RiRi would have denied RitRit’s ass, but the most obvious one is that you don’t need two Rihannas at the same party! That’s like going to a 5-year-old’s birthday party and seeing two Elsas. Just pick the better Elsa.
Here’s the Sindy to RiRi’s Barbie leaving Lady Gaga’s afterparty on Monday night. Apparently RitRit has replaced Cara Delevingne with Sienna Miller. Upgrade!
“THIS BITCH!” said the coat check person when RiRi threw this 500-pound “Boboli slathered in nacho cheese” coat at them.
RiRi rolled up to the
Met Gala Meth Gala tonight in a U-Haul, because it was the only rented vehicle in the NYC area that was big enough to hold the heavy ass cheese pizza she called a coat. Apparently, they had to shut down the red carpet when RiRi came through, because her “bigger than the sun” coat would have knocked a few bitches out as she strolled on up.
The thing about RiRi’s coat is that it can be many things. If I was there and stoned (which I’d have to be if I was there), I would’ve nibbled on that coat, because it looks like a pupusa covered in cheese. If Kim Kuntrashian was on the carpet at the same as RiRi, she would’ve rolled all up in that coat, because it looks like a giant puddle of piss. It’s like the aftermath of the golden shower of all golden showers. That’s some full bladder shit. If Vanessa Paradis was there, she’d stare at it lovingly, because she’d remember all the times she jacked Johnny Depp off and ended up with a giant glob of dick cheese on her hand.
No, I don’t like that RiRi stole Coco Peru’s wig. But I do appreciate the fact that her eyebrows are shaped like baseballs bats and her coat thing kind of looks like a condom.
Pics: Getty, Wenn.com