“Hope you like magic tricks bitch, ’cause I’m about to make you disappear” – Beyoncé, as she presses the panic button concealed in her right hand to summon The Beygency in a windowless white van.
The messy family drama between Basement Baby, Jay Z, and HER MAJESTY BEYONCÉ just keeps getting messier and more dramatic. In the wake of the release of the post-Met Gala elevator security camera footage of Basement Baby going all Homey D. Clown on her brother-in-law, Solange has wiped her Instagram account clean of every picture of Beyoncé, except for one that was taken over a year ago. Meanwhile, Bey has left up a picture of a prayer she posted to Instagram shortly after the Met Gala about asking god to help her choose her friends wisely and to get rid of bad influences and bla bla bla. Passive-aggressive fighting on Instagram, eh? Some bitches truly never leave middle school.
But Basement Baby’s elevator brawl wasn’t her only fight that night. According to Us Weekly, Basement also got into it with designer Rachel Roy, saying she started yelling at a group of people that included Roy, who’s ex-husband Damon Dash used to be BFFs with Jay Z before the two had a falling out. They say that Beyoncé also got in the middle of it, but nobody knows why Basement started fighting with Rachel Roy in the first place. So basically, Basement Baby spent her evening at the Met Gala fighting bitches like an angry drunk chick at a high school prom.
And just like everyone predicted they would, Beyoncé and Jay Z did some damage control by making an appearance at the Nets game Monday night as Perfect Couple™ Bey & Jay. Look at those smiles! I almost believe them; good job, you two! You can barely tell that Beyoncé is mentally calculating how much time Basement Baby will require in the Re-Beyducation chamber as punishment for her insolence.
And now we know that Jay-Z’s got 99 problems and Basement Baby is all of them.
TMZ posted an ESCANDALO video of Basement Baby re-enacting the Tina Turner limo scene from What’s Love Got To Do With It? in an elevator at The Standard Hotel in NYC after the Met Gala last week. A millisecond after Beyonce, Jay-Z and Basement Baby get into the elevator, BB burns Beyonce’s weave glue by kicking, punching and losing her mind on Jay-Z. I know, it’s weird seeing a woman whoop Jay-Z’s ass for a change. A big ass bodyguard tries to hold Basement Baby back, but when he you take Basement Baby out of the basement she goes nuts and he can’t control her ass. Meanwhile, BeyonceBot just stands there like, “I’m not about to fuck up my makeup, nails, dress and weave over this shit.” Jay-Z must’ve turned her off before they got into the elevator, because bitch barely blinks while her sister goes full “Sharon Stone in Casino” on Jay-Z’s ass.
TMZ also points out that the bodyguard hits the emergency break so the doors won’t open up and give everyone a Basement Baby Beat Down Show. TMZ doesn’t say what went down, but I’m guessing Jay-Z told her she looked like a Fraggle Rock Diana Ross.
Surprisingly, BeyonceBot didn’t hit the basement button on the elevator and tell Basement Baby, “This is your stop.” They all came out of the hotel together and while BeyonceBot put on a manufactured fake ass smile while getting into a car with Jay-Z, Basement Baby had the look of rage in her eyes as she got into a different car. This is what happens when Basement Baby leaves the basement and I love it.
But seriously, Basement Baby, you in danger, girl. The Beygency and Illuminati’s coming for you. I fully expect Beyonce to release a statement saying that Basement Baby has checked into the basement of Promises Malibu to deal with rage issues caused by freebasing moth balls. Jay-Z will issue his own statement saying that he’s glad he could help Basement Baby get her first hit in years.
UPDATE: TMZ has an extended cut version, because of course they do. Three full minutes of THE RAGE OF BASEMENT BABY including her shit flying everywhere when she throws her purse at him. There goes her allowance for the month.
All together now, “Hate in an elevator, livin’ it up while Jay-Z’s doing down!”
Glee’s current ratings are at an all-time low, but they’ll raise higher than what Lea Michele thinks of herself if they turned the cameras around and gave us the backstage fuckery that’s supposedly going down. Over the past couple of months, Blind Gossip has had several blind items about how Lea Michele and Chris Colfer are in cahoots and have been working together to push Naya Rivera and Darren Criss off of the show. There’s been more backstabbing and diva theatrics than what happens backstage at the Queen of Scientology pageant (you know what I’m talking about, Tommy Girl and Travolta!). TMZ says that on Tuesday, the drama between Barbra Streisand’s second Wednesday matinee standby and Kim Kardashian’s klone got so bad that one of them was kicked off of the set.
Team Naya claims that Lea held up production when she stepped away from the set to deal with personal crap. After the cast and crew waited around for a while, Naya went to the producers to bitch to them that Lea is a lit matchstick shoved up everyone’s asshole. They’re all over her shit. Lea heard about Naya’s talk with the producers and dramatically exited stage left and never came back to the set.
But Team Lea has a different story. They say that Lea and Naya weren’t even shooting scenes together and she didn’t know that Kim Kartrashian’s badly-made wax figure complained about her. Team Lea says that Naya was kicked off of the set. The source also claims that Naya was fired. Team Naya denies she was given BYE BITCH walking papers.
To add another layer of ESCANDALO to this mess, Blind Gossip posted a blind item on Tuesday about a TV actress who broke up with her musician boyfriend after she read text messages on his phone between him and one of her co-stars whom he allegedly screwed on the side.
This pretty television Actress and her musical Fiancee recently broke up. Lots of rumors and public accusations flying back and forth: Controlling! Flirtatious! Insecure! Jealous! Cheater! Thief!
While both sides are spinning publicly, we know that there are two facts that both sides privately acknowledge as being true.
The first is that she broke up with him. Yes, we know he said that he is the one who called off the wedding, but that’s not true. She ended it.
The second is why she ended it. He cheated on her. Our Actress found a series of text messages on The Fiancee’s phone from a woman with whom he had hooked up on multiple occasions. It wasn’t the first time she caught him cheating, but it was with whom he was cheating that was the final straw.
Of course there was a huge fight. She yelled at him for being a liar and a cheat. He yelled right back that he did it because he was tired of her flirting with other guys. He also told Our Actress that she could have a hundred plastic surgeries but she was never going to be as hot as his famous colleague’s celebrity Significant Other (who is The Fiancee’s idea of physical perfection). Ouch.
You know the rest. Couples therapy, breakup, accusations, spin.
This is obviously about Naya and Big Sean. Most of the blind item aficionados at Blind Gossip think the side piece costar is Lea Michele, but I’m not sure. If Lea was taking a ride on Big Sean’s fat moray eel dick, I think we’d all know it. Because we’d see pictures of Lea dragging the organs that fell out of her vag from Big Sean fucking her. So I’m guessing the home wrecking side piece slut is either Unique, Demi Lovato or Lord Tubbington. It was obviously Lord Tubbington.
Look at that slut with his legs wide. He’s practically bragging about it.
The Crystal Enchantress Of The Ice And His Husband Are Back Together Again After Signing A Ridiculous Post-Nup (UPDATE)
After weeks of scratching, biting and spitting at each other in the media and using their dog as a fluffy, adorable shank to stab each other in the throat with, Johnny Weir and his husband of 3 years Victor Voronov have stopped throwing Faberge eggs at each other and are back together again. To quote The Crystal Enchantress’ hair stylist when he told them he wanted green My Little Pony tails for bangs: “This is not going to be pretty.”
The Crystal Enchantress of the Ice made the sparkles on rhinestones dim and snow leopards cry out snowflakes when he announced last month that he and Victor broke up. During the days after their divorce announcement, they publicly delivered the gayest episode of Dynasty ever which is saying a lot since every episode of Dynasty is the gayest episode of Dynasty ever. They screamed, they cried and they brought the gay drama in thick, heavy doses. But they’re done with that for now and they’re back to rubbing nipples on top of Johnny’s grey mink comforter. Over the weekend, Johnny and Victor decided to give their marriage another try, which is a really good idea considering that Johnny once bit Victor and accused Victor of hitting him repeatedly. Johnny and Victor’s marriage was messy, their break up was messy and so of course their reconcilation is going to be messy. TMZ got a hold of (read: Victor gave it to them) a list of rules that they each had to sign. Victor made Johnny promise that he’d apologize for trashing his ass in the media and wants Johnny’s mom to keep her nose out of their marriage. Johnny made Victor sign his own list of rules and most of it has to do with peen passing. Scientology has less rules than Johnny and Victor’s relationship.
- No wet humping on others
- No sucking other dicks
- No kissing or making out or putting tongue on others
- No sexting others
- No jacking off with others
- No flirting hard with others
- No Grindr and no flirting on social media
- No talking with an ex unless the other one approves it first
They also promised to get tested for STDs every 6 months and the results have to be read when both of them are in the room.
If a jaded and bitter friend who doesn’t believe in long-lasting love asks you to show them a relationship that is built on trust and honesty, just show them this post, because Johnny and Victor are the epitome of trust. The hell kind of contract is that?! If you have to make your husband sign a contract stating that he’s not going to suck other dicks, there’s a good chance that when he sucks on another dick he’s not going to give a fuck about that contract while he’s doing it. Dreadful is the image of Johnny Weir dirtying up his Chanel leather pants when he gets on his knees to sniff Victor’s dick for cheating juices. How many Birkins need to be brutally murdered before Johnny realizes this shit is probably not a good idea? How many Birkins, Johnny? How many Birkins?
UPDATE: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand these messes are broken up again. The Birkins are saved and they can suck the dicks of others once again.
You really don’t know the Crystal Enchantress of the Ice and totally thought wrong if you figured his divorce from his first husband Victor Voronov would end with them wishing each other well and shaking hands like mature, sane adults. Nope, it’s going to end with glitter-infused tears, screams, more bite marks and possibly the brutal death of another Birkin bag. The divorce battle royale is going to messier than that biker angel goddess ensemble that Johnny’s wearing.
On the day that every swan’s heart broke, Victor tweeted that he barely found out that Johnny filed for divorce in February and that he was totally blind-sided by it. Victor must’ve shaken off the shock real quick, because he hired a “legal crisis manager.” Bitch thinks he’s on Scandal! Calling Olivia Pope! Johnny has turned up the messiness all the way by turning his divorce into a non-stop press party for himself. All week long, Access Hollywood has been airing an EXCLUSIVO tell-all interview that Johnny gave to the factory-defected, empty-headed Alfred E. Neuman doll named Billy Bush. Johnny dramatically told Billy that he’s had the sads in his little sequins-covered dove heart for a while about his marriage problems. Johnny says that they fought a lot about money, because Victor quit his law career to travel with him and he was supporting the both of them. Victor supposedly was controlling and pushed most of Johnny’s friends and even his own mother away. Victor’s legal crisis manager (I still CAN’T with that shit) tells Access Hollywood that he quit his law career, because Johnny wanted him to be a stay-at-home husband and travel with him.
“The night in question, my husband was very drunk and was yelling at me about my relationship with my mother and my mother was assisting me in cleaning up some financial messiness that had happened and he was uncomfortable with that and had voiced it very clearly. So, we had a fight and then I went to sleep because I had to work the next day and he came in – very not himself – and asked me to lay with him in the biblical sense, and when I refused, the altercation between us started. I was defending myself and it’s unfortunate that there was a mark left on his body because as soon the police came to our home the first thing he did was show this mark, so I knew then he didn’t really care that much and all he is out to do is hurt me.”
I watched this part of the interview on Access Hollywood, and I am so mad they didn’t shoot it in black and white. Johnny should’ve worn a fox stole and a black fishnet veil over his face, and took graceful drags from a long cigarette as he detailed the dramatic events of that night. It sucks that science and/or witchcraft hasn’t found a way to really bring back the dead, because I’d love to see Joan Crawford turn that monologue out. I’d also love it if they played that Access Hollywood interview during Sunday mass at every Evangelical church. I want to see heads slowly pop off of necks as Johnny says, “…lay with him in the biblical sense.”
Johnny also said that Victor hit him repeatedly in front of friends before and he never went to the police.
Victor was also offered money for a tell-all interview of his own and he supposedly told Johnny’s lawyer that he will turn it down if his estranged husband pays his lawyers fee and gives him spousal support. The Crystal Enchantress of the Ice shooed away his offer and asked the judge to make Victor pay his own lawyer fees.
As for that Birkin bag massacre, TMZ says that on September 29, 2013, Johnny wrote Victor an email apologizing for a fight they had but also slapped at his husband’s wrist for brutally murdering one of his Hermès purses (yes, in this situation, Hermès is pronounced “HER MESS.”)
Johnny writes, “If you decide to wreck things, please wreck cheaper things than Birkins.” He goes on …”The fuck you on the Birkin is kinda cool, though, you artist. I know you don’t care about how I’ll survive if you divorce me, but please leave my Birkin bags, Celine bags and Chanel bags alone.”
What’s really surprising is that Victor’s heart still beats in his chest and his lungs still work, because when you mess with Johnny Weir’s Birkin, you mess with his emotions. And when you mess with his emotions, you’ll get a Louboutin heel to the throat. Hell hath no fury like a bitchy brand whore scorned.
In case you couldn’t tell by all us hos from Los Angeles screaming on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, MySpace, Craigslist Casual Encounters, ICQ, AOL People Connection and EVERYWHERE else, we had a 4.4 earthquake (or as my little cousin calls them “ert-a-quakes“) this morning. I feel so left out of the “Shit My Chonies” party, because like Jon Gosselin’s trick when he sticks it all the way in, I didn’t feel a damn thing. The sound of my chihuahua snoring through dreamland was probably louder than the sound of the rumbles and I was too busy shaking my head over it being Monday to notice that the world was ending. But it did happen and these anchors from KTLA went through it and HOW. The dude’s face measured a 99.99999999 on the HAHAHA scale. You cannot blame his dramatic ass. One of those lights above could’ve fallen on his face and messed up his pretty. He is protecting his greatest asset at all costs.
Those of us hard, old native bitches who lived through the Northridge earthquake in ’94 all said in unison, “Dramatic whores, 4.4 is amateur hour!” But yes, if I did feel it, I’d be the first one screaming and crying while running out of my house with my dog in one arm and my stash and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
If you’re invited to Alanis Morissette’s house for breakfast, be prepared for a giant bowl of organic wall-slides and leche-scented tears, because her chunky pooch Circus has been STOLEN! I know that your first instinct is to call up Detective Sarah McLachlan and beg her to get to the bottom of this dramatic dognapping, but you can go ahead and hang up the phone. Alanis knows who stole her dog, the dog stealer acknowledges she stole the dog, and the tension between the two is so thick and emotional you’d swear you were watching a telenovela called Mi Perro, Mi Amor.
According to TMZ, everything started back in 2011, when Alanis and her husband Mario Treadway (aka Souleye, aka never forget that stupid name) found the chihuahua-pug stray roaming the streets, so they adopted the dog and named him Circus. Circus then started bonding with Alanis’s housekeeper Maria Garcia, who would take care of the dog while Alanis and her husband were away. Then in January, Maria was fired (probably for forgetting to pull the 5-feet-long hair ropes from the drain when she cleaned Alanis’s shower) and Maria took the dog as part of her severance package. Except that he wasn’t part of her severance package and he’s not her dog.
Dogs are considered property under California law, so in order to get Circus back, they need to sue Maria for the return of the dog. So Alanis and her husband have filed a lawsuit against Maria demanding the return of Circus, and also $25,000, because why the hell not? Might as well make a little cash while you’re in court.
But it doesn’t take a Detective McLachlan to know that Maria Garcia is just a patsy; mark my words, the real dog snatcher is (dramatic music)…Uncle Joey Gladstone! He’s been bitter ever since Alanis revealed in ”You Oughta Know” that he was a woodchuck-fisting two-timer, and he’s out for blood!
(Pic: Flame Flynet)
A month before Johnny Weir made the Sochi Olympics even gayer by bedazzling it with the rhinestones he farts out, he went for the gold medal in the sport of biting a bitch during a lovers quarrel with his husband Victor Voronov. Biting?! Biting?! How trashy! Oh, Johnny, a truly regal swan doesn’t mess up his lip gloss by biting. He dramatically pulls off his white glove finger by finger and gracefully slaps that trick in the face back and forth.
Radar says that sometime in January, the icicle beauty, whose life was the inspiration for the biopic Frozen, got into a fight with Victor at their home in New Jersey. Since Johnny Weir’s previous form was a bitchy white teacup Pom Pom with glitter gel toenails and pink diamante barrettes in his fur, he bit Victor. Victor quickly learned that when you’re bitten by a Crystal Enchantress Vampire, your body responds by oozing white glitter out of its pores and the transformation is complete when you buy your first rabbit fur coat previously owned by a rich old lady at an estate sale and when your b-hole squirts out a single drop of hummingbird juice at the sight of a gold lambskin Chanel bag.
Right after the fight, Victor filed a police report. Johnny Weir sashayed into a court room in Lyndhurst, New Jersey yesterday to answer to the domestic abuse charges. The two must’ve kissed and made up since the fight, because Victor was with Johnny and asked the judge to dismiss the case. The judge did dismiss the case and probably because he was hypnotized by Johnny’s beauty and glamour. The judge actually complimented his mane:
When Weir approached the bench in an unusually subdued black ensemble, the judge took note of Weir’s impeccable style and apparent celebrity status, remarking: “Nice hairdo!”
Without stating any specifics about the case and charges, the judge asked if the “victim” was present and ordered Voronov to approach the bench.
Voronov asked the judge to dismiss the case – and the dismissal was granted.
Radar tried to talk to Johnny outside of the court house, but he refused to.
Johnny should be embarrassed. Johnny carries himself like a refined and genteel Upper East Side Russian widow who kills her enemies with a subtle side-eye and spits in their tea before she serves it to them, but yet he gets into some domestic abuse shit like a common piece of down river trash! How dreadful. Johnny should’ve suggested that they solve their differences by competing in a twirl-off, because: a) he’d win after the first twirl and; b) he’d deliver a new kind of graceful while doing so.
Since I live in a fantasy world where the only relationships that matter are television relationships, I’ve tried not to get involved in Jared Leto’s love life; unless he’s dating Angela Chase, it’s unimportant to me. But I sort of started to give a bit of a care (like a handful of care) when I heard the definition-of-random rumor that he was dating class-act Lupita Nyong’o. And because I have an interest in communicable diseases, I started to really care when I heard he was maybe ‘making the fuck’ on Miley Cyrus. Unfortunately, during her appearance on Ellen today, Lupita seems to be just as baffled as we are and isn’t able to make sense of this messy love triangle either:
Ellen DeGeneres: You’re actually in tabloids, which means you’ve really made it. Because there are rumors that you and Jared Leto are together.
Lupita Nyong’o: Ah, but I thought Miley Cyrus broke us up. That was the last thing I heard. It’s crazy, cause when I read these rumors, they’re so detailed that even I start to question whether they’re true or not. I know I’ve believed them in the past and now I guess I can’t believe anything.
How classy is she? Ah, but I thought. I’m stealing that; I’m going to sound so sophisticated the next time I reach for a deep burn. “Ah, but I thought I sensed something chubby and corny.” Even though Lupita would NEVER call someone chubby and corny; she seems more like the silent type that can take a bitch to task with a carefully administered side-eye.
I was so hopeful this was turning into a modern-day The Boy Is Mine with Lupita playing the part of Brandy and Miley playing the part of Monica (in this version, Monica is an aggressive horny rodent who’s built up a tolerance to the rabies vaccine) but it sounds like Lupita doesn’t care much for drama school theatrics or playing the press. Rats. There goes the possibility of hearing the phrase “Close your legs and leave my man alone, you Carolina Herrera-clad ho!” on Oscar night.
Is there a division of Animal Control that is able to remove reality has-beens who won’t leave? I have a Kate Gosselin problem. No matter how often she’s kicked out, Kate keeps coming back with her pups and trying to nest, and it’s becoming a real pain in the ass. I tried searching the Animal Control website, but all I could find was a number for possum extermination (which might work).
When Kate sold her soul for fame (it involved murdering those gorgeous piece-y bangs and dumping them in a ditch somewhere in rural PA) she burned a million bridges, including most of the ones leading to her family. No surprise there. But Kate’s sister Kendra Wilber recently told The Daily Mail that she hasn’t seen or heard from Kate in almost 6 years (I’m sorry, she’s complaining about this?) and wants to repair the relationship. Unfortunately, she’s afraid she’s just not Hollywood enough for the former A-list coupon blogger:
“I guess we weren’t totally on board with what was going on with the kids, I guess we weren’t excited enough for her and were concerned about her family.”
Kendra added, ”Years later the divorce came about and we had every right to be. But there was no conversation and no argument. I guess we have our own life and she wants a big life and we don’t fit in. We are just normal everyday people and she doesn’t want us to be part of her life.”
“My sister-in-law Jodi [Kreider] and I get talking about the past and we don’t understand what she’s thinking. When the kids get old enough are they going to come and try to find us? I hope so,” Kendra said.
I personally hope they find good therapists, but finding you is a close second.
Kendra is either workshopping her acting skills in preparation for a Lifetime audition or she lives in a fantasy world where she’s blissfully oblivious to the truth, because it’s common fucking knowledge that Kate Gosselin is a Grade-A, 5-star bitch who’d throw herself under the bus if it meant a role on FOX’s Celebrity Bus Injury. What I’m trying to say is, I’m not buying what Kendra’s selling. My sister and I get in fights over shit all the time (01/16/2014 – Allison tries to eat the last strawberry turnover) but we make up because we both like each other. But if my sister was a raging, egomaniacal insane person? Hell to the no would I be calling her ass begging for a relationship with her and her brats. Oh, and newsflash Kendra: kids couldn’t give a shit about adults they don’t know because there too busy with Pokemon, Laffy Taffy, and Minecraft. If Kendra wants one of Kate’s kids in her life so badly, she should track down Jon Gosselin at his cabin in the woods and take him to dinner at Chuck E Cheese.
(Pic via Splash)