Not even a year ago, Taylor Swift was telling her squad, “Don’t even look at that shady whore Apple when she comes through the cafeteria,” and now they’re all the way up each other’s culitos. Tay Tay and Apple continued blowing air kisses up each other’s b-holes today by releasing an ad for Apple Music where she gets on a treadmill and raps to Drake and Future’s “Jumpman.” When you listen to Taylor rap, you’ll know who taught MH Weibe how to flow. Tay Tay also gave everyone a special gift when she busted out a moment that will probably become one of the GREATEST GIFS OF ALL TIME (sorry, KanyeShrug.GIF). “Taylor’s” (read: Taylor’s body double’s) face eats rubber at the very end:
— Taylor Swift (@taylorswift13) April 1, 2016
Never mind that Taylor looks like the shush baby of Anna Wintour and an inflatable sky dancer, she may get a taste of her own “sue a bitch” medicine thanks to this Apple Music commercial. I mean, the whole “prove that you’re oh-so-quirky and oh-so-real and omg-relatable by falling on the floor” is Jennifer Lawrence’s copyrighted trick!
Wind truly is the shameless pervert of the weather world. It’s always blowing up skirts and blowing against the crotch parts of pants. Sure, rain makes everyone look like they’re starring in a low-budget wet clothes fetish porno, but at least rain helps flowers grow. Wind does nothing but embarrass you. Case in point, Elizabeth Olsen at a Miu Miu fragrance launch in Paris on Saturday. Chris Evans’ secret on-set girlfriend showed up wearing a dress from the Shirley Partridge Collection, and it only took about three seconds in front of the paps before that sleazy creep came and blew up her dress. Inappropriate, wind!
Thankfully, Elizabeth brought a pussy-hiding purse with her and she was able to push her dress back down. Still, she might want to take a cue from The Queen and fill her skirt hem full of weights next time. And yes, there will be a next time – there’s always a chance that a no-good skirt-flipping gust of wind is lurking around, ready to pounce and expose your down-lows. The wind is the Joe Francis of the meteorology world.
But if Elizabeth really wants to get back at the wind, she could always ask her pocket goth older sisters, the Olsen Twins, to put a curse on it. What am I saying? They probably already have beef with the wind. One strong gust, and they’re blown thirty feet into the air like two plastic bags.
Here’s more of Elizabeth at the Miu Miu event, as well as Kate Moss, Amber Heard, the Gyllenhaal-Sarsgaards, and Sally Draper.
In “News You Definitely Care About” news, Jennifer Aniston’s partner in tequila (Side note: I totally picture them reenacting the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp with a tequila worm), Chelsea Handler, was on Conan last night and she once again swore on the carton of Belvedere in her garage that the Vine of Jason Biggs emptying his bladder on her face is one hundred percent real.
A few weeks ago, the epitome of SUCIO found a new low when a Vine made the rounds of Jason Biggs golden showering on Chelsea Handler as she swam below him in the ocean. Nasty trollop didn’t even close her mouth! Pimp Mama Kris already hates Chelsea Handler, but she hates her a little more today and is totally disgusted. How can Chelsea Handler get pissed on in a video and then give that video to the public FOR FREE? PMK is so glad they’re not in the same basic cable family anymore.
Chelsea was on Howard Stern last week and she claimed that she and Jason didn’t stage the piss party so she’d have a story to tell on talk shows while selling her Netflix comedy special. And last night, Chelsea pissed out the story into Conan’s face:
“I did not want to be urinated on. That’s not something I was trying to get to happen. It did happen and I’m still here. He’s got problems, okay and he had a urinary tract infection on this trip. No, he didn’t. So I got off the boat, there’s a below deck they call, the little thing, so I jump off of it and I was holding onto it because we were getting on another boat to go to the beach. All of a sudden I realize, I look up and Jason’s penis was there and he was urinating on my face. I thought it was so funny that somebody would pee on someone’s face that I was laughing so hard I couldn’t swim away. Even if I could’ve swim I would’ve just swam into the boat so I was trapped. I was in a urinary Bermuda Triangle. Listen, I can take one for the team. If somebody needs to get urinated on, I am happy to do that. I don’t care about urine. Who cares?”
Those last few lines…. If Chelsea was about 30 years younger, R. Kelly would be all about that.
I’ve thrown the Vine up after the cut so we can all disinfect (Freudian typo and it stays) it piss stream by piss stream:
Hopefully, your hangover is waning thanks to the expired prescription meds you found in your grandma’s medicine cabinet and the memory of your drunk uncle telling the story about getting crabs off a German hooker during the war is fading so you can focus on conjuring a fuck to give about what the Jentrashians had for dinner last night. Kris posted a pic of their menu on Instagram, which screams “catered” or “Pinterest“, depending on which side of the “that doesn’t look like you tried too hard at all” spectrum one is on financially. Major side-eye to the line about famous lemon cake- you know the last thing Kris did in the kitchen was toss Bruce’s nuts on a cutting board with instructions for the chef to chop and candy them to mix in with the stuffing.
Like all families, they probably sat around the table and lied their asses off about what they are thankful for. If they had been honest, it would have started with Kris thanking Ray J. for downing that Double Big Gulp before turning the video camera on, the Jenner girls being grateful for their Daddy’s money, Kourtney thanking anybody who would listen that Scott likes to hit it from the back so she doesn’t have to look at his budding serial killer face and ended with Khloe borrowing a line from Ever After as she scowls at her mother and says, “I’m only here for the food“.
Just in case you needed a little help for some last-minute heaves, here are some pics of Kim’s asses (her cornucopia of implants and fat grafts, as well as Kanye) in Miami yesterday, and Kim living up to her title of the Most Beautiful Woman of All Time if ratty, unbrushed hair and a face that looks like it would melt near an open flame are the new beauty standards to which we’re all being held.
The Daily Telegraph says that the man who used to brush Duchess Kate’s hair a thousand times with a sterling silver brush every night and condition her locks with the sperm of William the Conquerer that’s kept in a jar in the dungeon has been fired for treason! James Pryce did Duchess Kate’s mane on her wedding day and he also traveled with her during her tour through North America. When James Pryce started to get attention for handling Kate’s hair, he left the Richard Ward salon and went on his own. James Pryce thought he was going to be the Chaz Dean of Britain (yes, I just admitted to staring at Chaz Dean’s gorgeous lion face on QVC), but bitch got a heavy blast of royal reality to the face when he was dropped by Duchess Kate for tweeting and Facebooking about her. Some source said:
“When he went solo and tried to tour around the USA – he launched a Facebook page and Twitter account which featured hundreds of pictures of Kate and her various hairstyles to promote his business – obviously, that did not go down too well with the Palace at all. Richard Ward still cuts Kate’s hair and she has her colour done at the salon.”
James should’ve known that he is nothing but a peasant and should never ever throw up a picture of a royal on his Facebook page without asking. Posting a picture of a royal without their permission is only okay if you’re THE QUEEN and the picture is of a drunk Duchess Kate passed out on the couch with the words “MY BITCH” written on her forehead with black eyeliner. Posting a picture of a royal without their permission is also okay if the picture is of a naked Prince Hot Ginge and the wall you’re posting it on is my wall.
We all know the real reason James was fired was because he let Duchess Kate go outside with grey hairs! THE QUEEN did not stand for that and demoted James to the position of Camilla’s private hairstylist and he’ll have to cut her pube bush into the shape of Prince Charles’ profile for the rest of his career! That will teach him.
After being raked over the social media coals for putting a Kat Von D lipstick on their shelves called “Celebutard”, The Daily Mail says Sephora is handing out apologies instead of samples of cologne a French whore would turn down.
‘It has come to our attention that the name of one shade of a lipstick we carry has caused offense to some of our clients and others,’ a Sephora spokesperson said in a statement. ‘We are deeply sorry for that, and we have ceased sale of that shade both in our stores and online.’
Complaints came in from parents of children with special needs, “Glee” actress Lauren Potter who has Down syndrome and Kathy Keeley, the Executive Director of All About Developmental Disabilities (AADD) who said:
‘It’s shocking that a company in this day and age would even consider such a demeaning name for a product.’
‘While this kind of language might not seem important, to people with developmental disabilities, labels and terms like this are very hurtful and damaging.’
Kat herself didn’t follow in Sephora’s footsteps. According to People, she Tweeted that it was “just a fucking lipstick” but then deleted it.
I’m trying to be surprised she doesn’t give a fuck about political correctness or image after she wrapped herself around down low Nazi and professional pussy hound Jesse James like he was some kind of prize to be won. There’s also no shock over the lack of eloquence- I took one for the team and looked for examples of Kat Von D wisdom and a tumblr account dedicated to her reads like a fortune cookie factory mated with the notebook I kept in high school of cheesy lyrics. I came across this sorta on-topic quote:
Makeup is part of my daily routine. It’s the time in my mornings when I can concentrate on me, and me alone. Giving yourself the kind of attention is so important – and is something that is definitely glossed over by to [sic] many women.
Kat obviously likes cosmetics- I’ve seen a horny baboon with less color on its ass than Kat uses on her everyday face. Makeup is one of those things I’ve never mastered, along with any hairstyling trends past the 80’s crimp, listening to my inner monologue when it tells me to not make a dick joke and pulling up to my mailbox without hitting it with my side mirror. Many people walk into a Sephora and leave with a bag full crap that will give them better face. I walk in, have a panic attack, fill the basket they give me out of guilt and spend a week looking like this before I give up and go back to my tragic 3-minute routine.
Regardless of the potentially offensive nature of the name of the lipstick Sephora pulled, why the fuck would anybody WANT to look like any of the celebrities the shade was named after? Who turned the tube over, saw the name and said, “EUREKA! That’s what I want everyone to associate me with!” There’s also a little side-eye to be thrown toward another one of her lipsticks called “Underage Red”. Who doesn’t want to slick on a Miranda Kerr-approved red lip and think to oneself, “Who’s a pretty little minor with daddy issues being preyed upon by gross older men?”
Ah, the good old days of Dlisted yore when the sight of the Pratts and their blow-up doll ilk made me morph into a camel and spit at my screen. I must not have completely pulled myself out of a self-induced DayQuil/Benedryl/moscato coma quite yet this morning because I found myself clicking through pictures of Stephanie Pratt dressed as a genie, thinking that she looks kind of pretty when she’s not doing her impression of John Mayer singing and that it wouldn’t hurt to try a couple of sit ups later today.
Since I’m taking this intern job VERY seriously, I thought I’d dig a little for all of you and see what Steph’s been up to since 2007 when she was on The Hills and those assholes wouldn’t allow themselves to leave our conscious thought. I’m pleased to report that Stephanie’s website hasn’t posted new content since 2010, leading one to believe that unlike her dipstick brother Spencer and his idiotin’ wife, she may have clued into the public’s collective eye roll at all things Pratt and had the decency to quit herself on our behalf.
And here’s more of She-Pratt and others (including Tim Allen, Adam Brody, Cindy Crawford, Chelsea Handler, etc…) at Mike Meldman’s Halloween party in Beverly Hills last night.
This proves that nothing good comes from wearing a mullet shirt. When you wear a mullet shirt, bad shit happens to your ass.
Carrie Underwood was performing at a show in Corpus Christi, TX last night when her heel and her fug ass mullet shirt worked together to take her ass down. After Carrie’s ass and the stage floor became one, she kept on yodeling. CNN broke into their story on Syria last night (they probably did) to report that Carrie didn’t break any bones and she’s not canceling any dates.
After the show, Carrie tweeted a picture of her leg and foot wrapped in something every woman wears when she’s around Quentin Tarantino and doesn’t want him to attack her feets with his mouth. It’s a QT blocker.
And in the doll room of her Rhode Island mansion, Taylor Swift is giggling while jumping on top of the foot of her Carrie Underwood voodoo doll.
In “information you really needed in your brain” news, a source tells UsWeekly that in the months before they decided to end their contract, George Clooney and Stacy Keibler barely saw each other in person and didn’t wet hump on each other once. The source is either Stacy Keibler’s publicist or George Clooney’s dick has been drunkenly blabbing to the tabloids again. It’s totally the latter. The source put it like this:
“They hadn’t had sex in months. He’s been in Europe, and she’s in L.A., and they haven’t seen each other in a long time. Some girls would be okay with that and just be happy dating George, but not her. She knew he wasn’t looking to get married. But there was always that fantasy that he would commit. Sadly, it just ran its course.”
TMZ says that Stacy and George broke up over the phone, because he’s in Germany shooting a movie for the next 5 months and she’s in L.A. shooting the soon-to-be Emmy sweeper Supermarket Superstar. They both decided that they couldn’t go for another five months of doing other people while pretending to be together, so they broke up for real.
The funny thing is, George Clooney is chronically allergic to married life and yet for the past few months he and Stacy have been acting like an old ass married couple. They haven’t been fucking, they barely see each other and they only saw each other to keep up appearances. They were practically married! So the joke’s on Clooney! Stacy really got his ass.
File this under: Well, that explains EVERYTHING now….
Cross file under: Pretend it’s the 90s again and clutch your pearl to this news.
Jennifer Aniston and her hairstylist of forever Chris McMillan worked with a company on a new line of stuff for your hair and during a slobbery interview with WWD (via UsWeekly), he said that he was stoned into another dimension when he gave her the haircut that everyone’s tia had to get in the 90s. Chris was stoned, the scissors were stoned, Aniston was stoned, they were all stoned.
And for the record, McMillan insists he was stoned when he created the oft-copied Rachel cut for Aniston in 1994. “I’m 14 years sober, so I feel safe enough to say that,” he said with a grin.
Well, I guess this means that God or Mother Nature or whoever the hell created the long-haired guinea pig was high as all hell when they created the long-haired guinea pig, because the long-haired guinea pig worked “The Rachel” long before Aniston did. And next up, I’m going to write about how Keri Russell’s hairstylist was high on heroin when he chopped her hair off.
Here’s Aniston and Chris McMillan at the launch of their new hair stuff in NYC the other day.