In case you couldn’t tell from the screams of paranoia coming from the Southern California area, THE STORM OF EVERY CENTURY!!! has hit Southern California. Even though California is thirstier than ever because of the drought and shit, the media is still being extra dramatic and screaming for the National Guard’s help before the falling water ruins everyone’s fake tan! This is a serious emergency. I was watching the news early this morning and saying, “Don’t you fret, Monsieur M’rius,” to all the media whores losing their minds over a little fall of rain (I can’t believe I just referenced Les Miz). Just as I was laughing at the rain panic, my power went out. That’s what my dumbass gets. The electric company said that a transformer blew out and yes, I got the tingles for a minute picturing a Transformer blowing another Transformer. My laptop battery is dying faster than your patience during a Kanye rant and I’m getting WiFi from a hotspot on my phone, so it’s only a matter of time before my laptop and my phone croak out their last breath of power and I’m left in the dark. I’ll cry myself into the fetal position on the floor, because when my WiFi connection dies, so does MY SOUL!!!!
But before that happens, here’s RiRi trying out-Miley Miley in Paris last night by wearing an outfit you’d usually see on a twink sub at a gay BDSM club. But you know, if you’re RiRi and your at a club, you will have a collar around your neck and your alien nips will be breathing in the moist air through a Hot Topic mesh shirt. It’s just the way it is. Pure sophistication.
And here’s more of RiRi’s nips at the club and pictures of RiRi showing up to the Dior show today. I see she’s still auditioning hard for the role of Elvira Hancock in the Scarface remake.
Wheelchair Jimmy, aka Ms. Drake if you’re nasty, sort-of confirmed that Rihanna is, in fact, rolling up on his drake-snake last night at his concert at the Palais Omnisports de Paris Bercy (fun fact: I was able to say that correctly, but I still have trouble pronouncing Teresa Giudice’s last name). Shortly after Drake brought RiRi up on stage to sing Take Care, the two started acting like that gross couple from high school who used to dry hump between classes at their shared locker. The way Drake and RiRi react to each other says so much about their personalities: Ovaltine’s Very Own leans in to give her some bland-ass butterfly kisses like a Duggar kid on their wedding night, and RiRi responds by pressing her Barbadian blunt-hunter butt up on his crotch like her ass has got an itchy rash and his dick is a tube of Gold Bond.
Nothing about these two make any sense to me. Half the pictures I see of Drake it looks like he’d rather be at home under a home-made afghan watching DVDs of Gilmore Girls. And RiRi always looks like she’s about two seconds away from asking someone: “Do you wanna see a magic trick? I bet I can make ya dick disappear.” Or maybe I’ve got it all wrong and Wheelchair Jimmy is a real freak in the sheets; it’s always the quiet ones, right? Aaaand I just shuddered in disgust so hard I dislocated my shoulders from imaging Drake role-playing with RiRi: “Let’s play a game called Degrassi: The Next Penetration. You can call me the guy who shoots Jimmy Brooks, cause I’m gonna blast you with my semen and paralyze you from the waist down.” Oh boy, Jesus take the wheelchair.
After a whole week of NOPE-filled stories of Woody Allen and his not-right turtle-faced grossness (I could link to the Woody Allen posts, but instead here’s a picture of a dog cuddling a kitten) it’s nice to get back to business as usual: finding out who Rihanna is dropping her bad gyal coochie on. I never thought I would consider RiRi’s rode hard & put away wet ladybusiness a breath of fresh air, but here we are.
Sadly, RiRi’s new man isn’t her Number 1 Fan, Vin Diesel (no joke, that video makes me tear up EVERY TIME). The Daily Mail thinks Rihanna might be back to humping on Drake after they were spotted leaving Hooray Henry’s in West Hollywood together last night. RiRi exited the club first, then Drake followed shortly after, but they drove away in the same car which means they are 100% totally back together and you should get your ass to Crate & Barrel to buy them His and Hers hand towels. They also claim that back in November, the two were seen twice hitting up clubs (both strip and original recipe) but a source tells them RiRi and Wheelchair Jimmy aren’t ready for a commitment, so for now it’s just fucking. You hear that Vin? You have a chance buddy!
Here’s more of Rihanna and Drake leaving Hooray Henry’s last night. Let stop what we’re doing for a moment and bust out a group prayer for Drake’s sense of style; that Bart Simpson angel shirt is a fucking abomination. It’s like one tiny step higher than a button-up with an embroidered Calvin pissing on a Ford logo. I hope after RiRi was done doing the dirty ooh-na-na-na, she had the wherewithal to do Drake a solid favor by grabbing that tragic red shirt off the floor and destroying it:
Shakira and RiRi’s song “Can’t Remember To Forget You” (which is what I’ll be saying later when I still have this wreck of a song stuck in my head) is a direct assault on eardrums and it sounds like two rabid goats fighting over an apple, but if you’re into two pop tricks rubbing each other’s magnificent nalgitas and lezzing it up for the camera, then the video makes up for the song.
Joseph Kahn, who directed this, probably told them to pretend like they’re two cats in heat who just got attacked by billions of fleas, because they’re scratching their asses against the wall and writhing on a mattress like they need the Q-tip and a flea bath at the same time. Nomi Malone and Cristal Conners will always be the reigning Queens of fake lesbian-on-fake lesbian action, but Shakira and RiRi tried to come for their throne.
I am all for pop chicks selling it hard by dry humping on each other (see: Madge & Brit Brit, Madge & Miley, Madge & Xtina, Madge & everybody, etc….), but when are we going to finally get two pop dudes selling it to the gay gaze by grabbing on each other. And no, the Biebs and Usher don’t count.
Rihanna in a suit? Excuse me? I don’t think so. This demure peony blossom is a phoney; the Rihanna I know is a straight-up, loud-and-proud ho and would show up to her appearance on Good Morning America in nothing less (or more) than a denim g-string and sequinned pot-leaf nipple pasties. Or maybe this is RiRi, but the constant dank cloud surrounding her perception and comprehension skills fucked up what she read in her agenda and she interpreted ‘GMA with Bob Saget‘ as ‘Audition for Danny Tanner’s new co-host on Wake Up San Francisco‘. Either way, I know how this story ends (with Kimmy Gibler falling face-first into a pile of Comet’s shit while that sadistic Tanner family laughs).
But to answer your question “For what random reason are these two even in the same room, let alone touching hands?”, Rihanna appeared on Good Morning America today to pimp out and raise money for MAC Viva Glam, and John Stamos, Bob Saget, and Dave Coulieoruslu-too-many-vowels were there to whore out that damn Dannon Oikos Super Bowl ad. That yogurt commercial is the TV equivalent of the Anchorman 2 campaign; it’s everywhere, and then after opening weekend, it will disappear like a fart in the wind. Which is really too bad, because we really don’t get to see enough of the National Treasure that is John Stamos.
Here’s more of RiRi looking all serious business woman-y (we can’t see her phone, but it probably has a countdown timer that says ‘Minutes ’till grindin and smoking’) along with John Stamos and The Yogurt Boys:
The New York Times (via EOnline) says Bruno Mars was named the most illegally downloaded artist of 2013 with nearly 5.8 million downloads. The runner up was Rihanna with 5.4 million, followed by Daft Punk with 4.2 million and Mr. Jessica Biel with 3.9 million.
I had to Wiki Bruno and what he released in 2013 because he lost me with that “catch a grenade fuh yuhhhh” song a few years ago. That shit was the musical version of a drug-resistant strain of herpes; it was EVERYDAMNWHERE. Going through the list, it would seem Joe Francis, Woody Allen and Roman Polanski could have been responsible for at least some of those downloads, thanks to Bruno’s creepy little ditty called “Young Girls“.
Make your amends, settle your debts and kiss your grandma goodbye, for the end is fucking nigh.
People is reporting that Oxford Dictionaries has declared “selfie” as it’s Word of the Year for 2013. As attention whores everywhere celebrated by taking at least a dozen in their bathroom mirror, everybody who actually has a friend to take their damn picture for them looked for a window to Morgan Freeman themselves out of.
“Selfie” beat out “twerking” for the title, proving that the paradigm shift to everybody being a special snowflake and deserving a trophy for participating has come around full circle and kicked us all in the ass. Previous Words of the Year include “bailout”, “default” and “occupy”, all relating to major political or economic issues. You know your short list is complete shit when everybody loses no matter which options wins. (Side note: Kanye has already drafted an all-caps letter to Oxford demanding to have his creativity recognized and nominating “architected” for next year’s honors.)
Here’s a gallery of celebrity pics if you want to take a moment and say, “fuck you very much” to the best of the worst- Kim K., Rihanna, Miley, and HRH Prince Douchecanoe of Selfie (aka Justin Bieber). The ONLY person who should get a pass on the selfie is this lady. Her game is so on point I can’t even hate.
(Photos: Twitter and Instagram)
I guess the costume theme for The Difficult Brown’s past and present pieces was chola, because his current piece Karmakarmakamelonorhwatever Tran went as one (her chola name is La Dumbass) and so did RiRi (her chola name is La Tenhead).
RiRi spit up a huge load on Instagram of picture after picture of her and her friends as chola zombies on Halloween. When my eyeballs first scooted across these pictures, I thought RiRi was done up as a zombie Aaliyah and I didn’t know if this was going to make Drake come at her or try to hump her. RiRi snatched Detox’s black and white idea and mixed it with some Mi Vida Loca shit to give us a zombie chola straight out of My Crazy After Life (Mi Vida Después Loco). Three things: 1) I cannot label those brows as “exquisite cholita eyebrows,” because it looks like she made them with a regular, old, basic brow pencil and not a fresh Sharpie. ILLEGAL and that automatically makes this costume void and invalid. 2) Where is a hickey the size of Enrique Iglesias’ old mole on her cheek? A chola’s beauty mark is a cheek hickey. 3. THAT HAIRLINE. Those baby hairs look like dry and burnt scallop potatoes. Sad Girl and Mousie would never.
Not a day goes by when RiRi isn’t flashing her Barbadian nipple plates and nalgas out in public, so history was made on Saturday when she actually covered her ass up and the mess still found a way to get into trouble. RiRi’s Cubic Zirconias World Tour stopped in Abu Dhabi over the weekend and on Saturday she decided to put on a hijab and bust out an Instagram photo shoot at the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. We as a people should gather together as one and be thankful that RiRi covered up her fugilicious tattoos for once, but not everyone is happy about this shit. After striking ridiculous pose after ridiculous pose on the grounds of the Grand Mosque, RiRi was kicked out by officials who were offended by her little photo shoot. They issued this statement to AP:
Here, the Centre refers to a recent incident, involving a singer who came for a private visit to the mosque, at a gate that is not reserved for visitors, without prior coordination with the Centre’s management and without identifying herself. [She] left without entering the mosque, after being asked to do so, due to the fact that she had taken some pictures that do not conform with the conditions and regulations put in place by the Centre’s management to regulate visits in a way that takes the status and sanctity of the mosque into consideration.
For RiRi, these pictures are every layer of tame and not offensive at all. Maybe they showed her ass the exit because with RiRi you never know when she might start humping walls or sucking off shrubs and they didn’t want to take any chances. If I had to be offended by something, I’d be offended by myself for thinking RiRi’s giving us some Little Edie chic. How dare I compare Little Edie to RiRi. That’s real blasphemy.
And if RiRi was trying to be sexy at a sacred place, she needed to try harder, because the Grindr Gays did it better.
There’s a sewer opening next to the McDonald’s (fitting, I know) sort of near the house where I grew up and when I was a kid, we were told to never ever go into it. My friend’s dad tried to scare us by saying that bad things happened in there and the It Clown probably lived there. But now I know why they didn’t want us to go down there. Because deep down in the sewer is RiRi humping the water while a gutter ass Carol Channing wig sits on top of her head.
Above is the video for RiRi’s 60-year-old song “Pour It Up” and it’s nothing but RiRi being the exquisitely demure blossom she is by letting a ghost piledrive her on her throne (at the 1:44 mark). Somewhere, Miley just stuck out her tongue, pulled out a Sharpie and wrote on it: Note to self – must do yourself up like a Betty Boop clown stripper for at least one video.
And for those of you are who saying that RiRi is thirstier than ever, here’s proof in GIF form that you’re right:
Bitch doesn’t even stop twerking when she leans over to get a nice drink from the water.
(GIF via Tumblr)