Nobody has won Powerball or Mega Millions, and their jackpots have hit $345 million and $654 million, respectively. But if you put money on “October 14, 2018″ as the day it’s announced that a priest gives the last rites to the meaning of True Love, then you’re already a big winner. Although, honestly, we’re all losers today since it’s obvious there’s no such thing as everlasting love.
Last month, every greeting card store in the world gathered up their supply of cards about love and began shredding them all. Because after hearing that the true love union between 19-year-old Bella Thorne and 34-year-old Scott Disick didn’t last, they couldn’t continue to push something that doesn’t exist. A quick second after Bella and Scott began bumping genitals, they went off to Cannes together. But HorSick was over as quick as they began and Bella ditched Scott in Cannes and flew back home. Sources (read: my imagination) tell me that when Bella tried to get back into the States, customs officials immediately shuffled her off to a CDC quarantine tent where she spent several days soaking in a hot ammonia and antibiotics bath. Once she was given the clear, Bella talked to Complex about the love of our time that never was.
Everyone has the sads today. Humanity has the sads because we’ve been cheated out of video clips of Mariah Carey cooing out her vows (read: lyrics from one of her songs) while wearing a modest ensemble (read: a pink diamond-encrusted bodysuit with a 25-foot long train) and standing next to a witness (read: the real Lisa Frank) at the City Clerk’s Office (read: an exact replica of Cinderella’s Castle that she had built in her backyard). Hello Kitty has the sads because she won’t get to walk Mimi down the aisle anytime soon. And Mimi’s bank accounts have the sads, because now she has to spend her own money since she and Billionaire Shrek are done! For now, anyway.
The publicist of every famous and single white dude out there is pissed today. They were planning to ease into the work week after the long holiday, but now they can’t since they’ll have to spend all day sending head shots of their clients to Taylor Swift’s PR team, because she’ll need a new photo-op partner now that she and Tom Hiddleston are over! As the cherubs prepare to fly themselves into the sun since the meaning of “genuine love” is forever dead, we need to prepare our eye-rolling muscles since a new album is probably coming soon. I, for one, can’t wait for the track titled “This Our Swan (Pastry) Song.”
Last August, Frane Selak, the Croatian man who claims to have cheated death 7 times and won the lottery afterward, handed over his title of “World’s Luckiest Man” to James Placido after James married one of the most gorgeous and delicately elegant beings on this planet and beyond. James Placido became Mr. Jodie Marsh 8 months ago in an extremely secret wedding ceremony in Barbados. (Yes, it can still be called an “extremely secret wedding” ceremony even though nobody but me really cared.) I figured that Jodie Marsh and James’ love would last until eternity and would forever remain unbroken, but I should’ve seen this shit coming when I first looked at that picture of them. Never trust a dude whose hair and beard don’t touch.
Jodie announced on Instagram this morning that she and James are done, and since she knew that there was a big chance her phone would explode from every news organization in the world calling her at once, she let everyone know that she’s not in the mood to talk. Jodie didn’t say if she’s filed for divorce, but the BBC reports (no, it doesn’t) that James’ dick filed for divorce from him, because it hates him for separating it from her pink diamond-encrusted poon.
I’m assuming that Jodie is the one who dumped his trick ass, because who dumps Jodie Marsh?! That’s like saying you don’t want to wake up to the beautiful scent of freshly bloomed roses (that’s what her farts smell like) and that you don’t like the taste of ripe strawberries dipped in sugar (that’s what her vagine tastes like). But well, maybe James had to leave Jodie for medical reasons. Maybe he suffered from severe hydration because he cried all day and night from seeing her natural beauty up close and he fainted every time he touched her. Yeah, I’m going to go with that.
I see the Summer of the Split has decided to move on from married people to almost-married people. Watch out, casually fucking, you’re next.
UsWeekly says that Robin Wright and her younger ginger piece Ben Foster have decided to call it quits on the whole “being engaged” thing. Again. A source tells UsWeekly that their love hit the rim of the trash can about a month ago after 7 months of being engaged. Robin and Ben reportedly stopped returning their wedding planner’s phone calls the first time because she couldn’t deal with their work schedules and the 14-year age gap between them. And this time…well, it’s pretty much the same shit. A source claims that Robin and Ben “were still having the same issues” after they joined the two-timer engaged club back in January, which means Ben is still 14 years younger than Robin and they’re both busy. Goddamnit Ben, would it have killed you to quit your job and focus on learning how to rapidly age 14 years? It’s like you don’t even care about this second engagement!
It’s really too bad that Robin and Ben have quit each other again. Robin has said in the past that Ben’s dick does her insides better than any other, so today you should be pouring one out for Robin’s down-lows and praying that she soon finds comfort in another. Good dick at frequent intervals is a terrible thing to lose.