According to Page Six, Super Bowl XLIX will be your ~so edgy~ 13-year-old cousin’s dream come true (“Whatever I don’t care football sucks“) because human Sour Punch Straw Katy Perry will be performing during the halftime show. It sounds like Katy will be the only performer, but who knows? Maybe she’ll bring her friends Bonnie, Rochelle, and Sarah on stage with her to play light as a feather stiff as a board in between “Roar” and “Teenage Dream”.
Originally it was rumored that the halftime show would be either Katy, Coldplay, or Rihanna. Obviously Princess Ooh-Na-Na was out the second she responded to CBS pulling her song from an NFL broadcast last month (THE AUDACITY!) by hissing “Fuck you!” to CBS on Twitter. And who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to have Coldplay, aka the Sleepytime® tea of music, perform at the Super Bowl? Does Bedtime Bear work for the NFL now? So Katy ended up being the best choice. You know, since Prince was clearly busy.
For those of you reading this news of Katy Perry landing the halftime show at Super Bowl
ALEX XLIX and thinking “Oh, so you mean Jane Lane’s Forever 21 cousin managed to cut the NFL a large enough check?“, Katy would like you to know that, um, no, Katy Perry don’t play that pay-for-play bullshit. Taylor Swift’s Regina George told ESPN’s College GameDay on Saturday that she’s “not the kind of girl to pay to play the Super Bowl.” Uh huh. SHOW ME THE SUPER BOWL RECEIPTS, KATY!
It goes without saying that in this post-Nipplegate world we live in, nothing too messy can happen, but that doesn’t mean Katy can’t bring a little DayGlo Tumblr teen fuckery to the halftime show. First off, I want to see Katy dance with either that twerking ice cream cone from the “This Is How We Do” video or a giant corn dog. Second, I want to see Katy try to catch a football on stage. That would literally be the best thing in the world. Make it happen, Katy!
During an interview with Australian Women’s Weekly (via Daily Mail), Hugh Jackman’s exquisite tree-ripened pawpaw of a wife Deborra-Lee Furness admitted that after almost two decades of people coming up to her and telling her she’s so lucky to be married to the current Vice President of the International DILF Society (the President is Paul Rudd), she’d like everyone to cut the bullshit and stop saying she’s lucky. Deborra-Lee isn’t lucky! There’s only one lucky, and she cry-cry-cries in her lonely heart. But for real, Hugh Jackman’s normal-looking wife wants you to stop acting like she won the damn lottery:
“That to me is a putdown. (It is) like you suggesting I won the chook raffle. I think we create our own destiny.”
I had no idea what the hell a chook raffle was (I figured it had something to do with drawing for a wallaby) but as it turns out, it’s where people raffle off chicken meat in a pub. WHAT EVEN??? Beer and the chance to win a bunch of chicken meat? Australia truly is a magical place.
But back to Deborra-Lee. I know she thinks people are saying “You are lucky”, but I think what they really mean is “You are lucky.” As in, we’re all insanely jealous that Deborra-Lee Furness gets to wake up every morning spooning one of Wolverine’s biceps and fall asleep every night staring deep into his beautiful Bloomin’ Onion eyes as he sings her a medley of Broadway show tunes. People aren’t saying she’s lucky in a Michael Bluth “Her?” way. They’re saying in the most literal sense of the word; as in, if a proctologist took a look up Deborra-Lee Furness’ ass, he’d find a horse shoe, a rabbit’s foot, several four-leaf clovers, and a goddamn leprechaun.
Again, cut to the real Martin Lawrence wondering: “Damn Gina! – I mean, Damn Gwynnie! When the hell did we have a problem???”
When it was announced that Chris Martin was slow-humping (you know that bitch has to make sex a ~soulful~ experince) on America’s Kewlest Sweetheart Jennifer Lawrence, most of us gleefully shot our eyes to the direction of Gwyneth Paltrow in anticipation for some kind of free-range hand-carved imported organic basic bitch meltdown upon learning that she’d been replaced by the cooler 24-year-old version of herself. But sadly, we’re not about to get one. Well, at least not for the time being. E! news says that Goopy is actually legit happy that her former partner in insufferable self-importance is getting his dick wet:
“Gwyneth is very happy for Chris, that he has moved on and found someone else,” a source tells E! News. “Their split has been remarkably amiable and they both just want the best for one another.”
Moreover, Gwyneth “can see why Jennifer is a good match for Chris,” our source adds. “Chris is very drawn to her personality, and ambition and talent. There are actually some amazing similarities between Jennifer and Gwyneth and how they view life and career, and so Gwyneth knows that ultimately Jennifer has the power to make Chris happy in the long term.
“And that’s all Gwyneth wants for Chris,” the insider reiterates. “They might not be a couple anymore, but they will always be co-parents and best friends.”
Gwyneth’s “source” (Hi Jessica Seinfeld!) used an awful lot of words, when really, they could have saved themselves some time by saying “Gwyneth is too busy fucking that weird looking dude from Glee to care what Chris Martin is doing. The End. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to pick up Gwyneth’s weekly order of hand-picked North African crocus stems, or else she won’t have anything to filter her imported sperm whale sweat with, and would you spritz your face with unfiltered sperm whale sweat? Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Last night, the almost-lifelike prototype for a generic-brand RealDoll Megan Fox informed human wine aerator Chelsea Handler and the audience of Chelsea Lately (via Moviefone) that even though she looks like a friendly humanoid, she’s not into people. Yes, she knows she was programmed to interact with people, but it doesn’t mean she has to like them. In fact, the only humans she likes are ones that fell out of her silicone vagina, and she’s very grateful they take up so much of her time, because it means less time being forced to interact with people:
“You don’t sleep [and] every minute is … dedicated to someone else.” The actress said she’s become a homebody because she’s always taking care of her sons, though she admits that she prefers not interacting with others. “I don’t like people,” she told host Chelsea Handler. “That’s why you want to hang out with fucking turtles,” Handler observed.
Maybe that’s why she wants to find Bigfoot so badly – so she can find out the best locations to hide from people.
My initial response was to tell Megan to watch her mouth, since people are the ones who put her in movies and repair the cracks in her silicone, but realistically, how long is it till the robots take over and human-looking sexy replicants like Megan Fox are the ones in charge? Not long! ASIMO, the sexiest of the sexy robots (#DatRoboBooty), can play soccer now! That means we’re only like, what, 4 years away from some roboskank cutting in line at Starbucks and bleep-blorping out a complicated drink order. “I want a grande high viscosity non-sludge extra-hot motor oil. What do you mean you want a name for the cup? Don’t you know who I am? I’m a TEEN-1600 droid, bitch, who the eff are you?”
It’s a Christmas (in August) miracle! Back in June, Anna Kendrick cried to Elle Magazine that no one had hit on her in five years, which made no goddamn sense, because Anna Kendrick is an adorably chipper human-looking field mouse, and you’d think she’d have all sorts of suitors lined up at the door to her grass burrow. But for some reason, her milkshakes were bringing 0.00 boys to the meadow.
However, according to the New York Post (via Hollywood.com) Anna has finally found someone to hit on her, and it’s Lily Allen’s brother and Game of Thrones actor Alfie Allen. A source claims that Anna and Alfie went on a date last week in Las Vegas at a place called SushiSamba, adding that they had requested a dark table and were spotted enjoying drinks. Ew, get a room you two! The source also added (no they didn’t) that witnesses caught their eyes canoodling while eating spicy tuna rolls and Anna giggled as she playfully poked Alfie with one of her chopsticks. Then they put on a pair of roller skates, told SushiSamba to kill the lights, and skated around the restaurant to “I’m Not In Love” till they were asked to leave.
Well, good for Anna. I’m glad to hear she’s no longer at home wrist-deep in a pint of Karamel Sutra and looking up dudes from middle school on Facebook (Stars! Just like the rest of us!). And obviously, if they’re together long enough to get a “Brangelina” nickname, Anna Kendrick and Alfie Allen should either go with “Anal” or “Alfdrick”. Someone please grab the brain bleach, because, yes, I just pictured ALF’s dick.
The Cell Block Grand Dame of Shade and Bitchiness, Martha Stewart, said, “Let her try,” and, “She could an actress,” when HuffPo asked her what she thinks about Blake Lively wanting to be the next her. Martha said she wasn’t being facetious and others didn’t take her comments as shady, but it’s Martha Stewart. She definitely wrapped those comments in a mint green bow made of subtle bitchiness. Blake took a break from handwriting her next editor’s letter on the same kind of parchment paper that Mark Twain used to use to tell Marc Malkin of E! News what she thinks about Martha’s words.
Blake said that she’s still an “actress,” but “curating” artisan products is her passion and if reading the word “curating” makes you want to heave over a toilet, you should go and do that now. Are you back? Did you remember to put an artisanal mint in your mouth?
The least popular color in the Crayon box said that acting and curating dumb shit are both passions of hers and she’s going to do both.
“I want to have my own path professionally and even as she said, I’m an actress. I’m doing something totally different so now I sort of have two careers going on and it’ll be interesting to see how it all pans out. But really what it is, is I have two passions. And I think ultimately, I will always be doing both, but one is going to be paying the bills better than the other.
It’s what I know better than acting so being in this space is something I’ve done my whole life, just not professionally. So now it’s something that I get to share with more people. I’ve been sharing it with friends forever. I didn’t even tell most friends that I was doing it because they still get their own curated products and gifts from me. I’m that girl.”
If you ever want to play an impossible game of “Don’t Say Anything Cunty” with someone, read them every single one of those lines that Blake mumbled out of her mouth. It’s impossible to not spit out something bitchy, because Blake makes it so easy. I mean, “It’s what I know better than acting” and “…they still get their own curated products and gifts from me.” Too. Too. Easy.
And SPOILER ALERT: I’m pretty sure Ryan Reynolds and her sister, who will give her a piece of her Teen Witch money, will pay the bills.
As for Martha, Blake said that she does want to be Martha Stewart, because everybody wants to be Martha Stewart.
“Who doesn’t want to be Martha Stewart? Martha Stewart has been a huge inspiration to me my entire life. She’s a huge source of inspiration for my mom. She’s how I came to know and love Martha. I always say that Martha Stewart Living is the only magazine I ever had growing up. I never had Tiger Beat or any of that stuff.”
I was the #1 bullied kid in my school and if Blake came to my school and told me she only read Martha Stewart Living, I’d bully her ass.
And sometime today, Uncle Terry will call Blake up and say, “So I heard you want to be just like Martha Stewart,” while running his sticky finger along the picture he took of his peen on Martha Stewart’s cheek.
Brody Jenner is giving me a little Tom Ford in the face, and yeah, I don’t hate it, but he had to go and ruin it all with the douche fingers. What a shame. Bruce Jenner must be so embarrassed that none of his children can even come close to achieving the same level of devastating flawless beauty as he.
But enough about immaculate earth angel Bruce Jenner; this is about the feud between his Drakkar Noir-scented douchebag son and his narcoleptic porn star step-daughter. Despite being THE premier showcase for reality show has-beens and never-wases, Brody Jenner didn’t attend Kim Kardashian’s biennial wedding ceremony last month because he was “busy”. Even though he didn’t fall out of Pimp Mama Kris’s fame whore hole, some of her stunt queen DNA must have rubbed off on him, because Brody made sure to drop everything he was doing (nothing is a thing you can do) to make a big show of attending the wedding of Kim’s ex-boyfriend Reggie Bush this weekend. Brody is about as subtle as the padding in a Kardashian’s ass.
Then on Monday, while Brody was walking the red carpet for the 9th Annual All-Star Celebrity Kickoff Party (we’re really playing fast and loose with the definition of the word “star”, aren’t we), he was asked if it was intentional that he skipped Kim’s dumb attention whore extravaganza. Instead of answering truthfully by saying “DUH! I’d rather get a root canal though my asshole”, Brody replied:
“Kim’s was in Paris. I was working. Kim was in Paris, and it’s as simple as that. So yeah, it’s kind of ridiculous that everybody’s making such a big deal out of it. Reggie’s been a friend of mine for a very long time. So it’s all good.”
Then he added: “Besides, it’s not a big deal. Kim will have many many many many more weddings that I can pretend I’m too busy to go to.”
Here’s more of Brody at the 9th Annual Not-Stars Celebrity-ish Kickoff Party on Monday night looking like what you’d see if you threw one of Ashton Kutcher’s nut hairs under a microscope:
No, you don’t need to double-check what today’s date is on the calendar; W Magazine did, in fact, make an Austin Powers “Yeah, baby!” joke in 2014. I just got very sad.
Mila “Don’t Ask Me About My Pregnancy” Kunis is in this months W Magazine talking about, what else, her pregnancy. But also about her relationship with human pair of crusty-crotched Hollister boxer briefs Ashton Kutcher. Specifically, how she never wanted to get married, but changed her mind after getting douchematized by Ashton’s vinegar-scented penis:
“I never wanted to get married. From the age of 12, I prepared my parents for no marriage. Then things changed—I found the love of my life. Now my theory on weddings is: Don’t invite anyone. Do it privately and secretly. My parents are okay with that. They’re just excited that I said yes.”
Then, in a move that should have made the interviewer pick up the phone and place a collect call to the hospital from Girl, Interrupted, Mila admitted that out of every Tiger Beat poster she could have torn out and taped up on her bedroom wall, she picked the dry turkey sandwich from Dude, Where’s My Car?:
“We all get movie star crushes. I’m marrying mine.”
Damn, that’s embarrassing as hell, but I’m in no position to throw shade; I had a movie star crush on the guy who played Peter Brady in The Brady Bunch Movie, which seemed pretty fucking embarrassing until I hit up IMDB and discovered he’s now a producer for Bad Girls All-Star Battle. So for those of you side-eyeing Mila for crushing on the asshole from My Boss’s Daughter, just remember that there’s always a chance Ashton Kutcher could redeem himself by working on high art like a Bad Girls Club spin-off. PS – call me if you need a date to the Emmys, Peter Brady!
Here’s more of Mila looking like one of Don Draper’s Season 7 side pieces in W:
When Orlando Bloom and Miranda Kerr announced they were splitting back in October, the internet exploded into a pile of solved blind items about who Miranda was passing her married pussy to, one of which was Justin Bieber. I never really believed those two did anything more than watch an episode or two of Go Diego Go! and shared a Go-Gurt (because they both look like toddlers, get it?). But since 90% of people believe Justin cheated on Selena Gomez by putting his wee-wee in Miranda’s bony box, and Miranda herself did say she’s also into girls, so I’ll take that as enough evidence that they did in fact fuck (but I refuse to picture what it looked like because I don’t want Chris Hansen showing up at my door).
Now, Orlando and Selena could easily chalk the whole thing up to “Sluts will be sluts” and move on to greener, less assholey pastures, but TMZ says that they’re getting back at their exes by humping on each other. Revenge is a dish best served jizzy. The two were spotted hanging out at a Chelsea Handler concert on Saturday night, but the second a pap went to take their picture, Orlando got a major case of deer-in-the-headlights and tried to split. This isn’t the first time they’ve hung out either; Selena posted a picture to Instagram of her getting close with Orlando at an event last month.
I know that taking a picture with someone doesn’t automatically mean you’re dating (if that were the case, I’d be dating all my friend’s cats) so I don’t think these two are humping on each other, even if Selena is totally his type (brunette, toddler face). He probably got scurred and ran off because he didn’t want anyone to know he had tickets to see Chelsea Handler (that’s the kind of embarrassing you don’t ever want to get out).
It looks like Pastor Cameron Diaz of the Pussylove United Church found a volunteer to fill in for her at the Pussy Outreach Centre for At-Risk Vaginas, because she’s taken a brief hiatus from preaching the word of the good book and give a non-labia-related interview to InStyle magazine. Pastor Cammy reveals that she has started to question the long-held belief that one should worship at the altar of one set of genitals for the rest of our lives:
“A lot of people chase after it because they’ve been told, ‘This equals happiness.’ They chase it, they get it, and they find out, ‘Why did I think this was going to make me happy? I’m miserable!’ I don’t know if anyone is really naturally monogamous. We all have the same instincts as animals. But we live in a society where it’s been ingrained in us to do these things.”
I’m sorry, Pastor Cammy, but you lost me the second you compared human monogamy to animal monogamy. Animals are sluts who will hump anything regardless of sex, species, or vital status. I once saw a dog hump on a dead raccoon, and the whole time his eyes were scanning for his next hole (no romance with that one). And of course there are some hump-hungry human sluts out there (The Deaner, for example) but for the most part, I think humans like to settle down with that one special someone who makes their parts tingle, right? I mean, it sure saves on rent.
And something tells me Pastor Cammy just received an email from Gwyneth Paltrow that said: “Hi Cameron. Do me a favour and go back to talking about vaginas, because I’ve sort of already cornered the market on insufferable quotes about questioning monogamy.”