Paris Hilton Did An Interview, Because Apparently There Are Still People Who Care About Paris Hilton
I guess news in the UK is slower than the lazy eye of a slow-moving skank, because The Telegraph has published an interview they did with world-famous DJ and former clinic-famous human crotch rash Paris Hilton. The interview was conducted by Helena de Bertodando, aka the shady cunt who carried around a newspaper clipping for nine years so she could call out Emily Blunt to her face. Sadly, Helena never whips out a copy of 1 Night in Paris and asks her to take us back to the glory years of 2004. Instead she just lets Paris free-associate and spit out a rancid Heiress-scented Valtrex cloud of nonsense.
A deluded trick with only two barely-working brain cells had an awful lot to say, so it’s all after the cut. »
Because going to school and getting an education is for suckers who didn’t win the lottery by having famous parents or a sister who fucked Moesha’s brother for cash, Razzie Award-winning actor Jaden Smith and Marla Hooch’s less-talented twin sister Kylie Jenner have all the time in the world to recreate the not-right pictures that were taken of his 13-year-old sister Willow Smith hanging out on a bed with a shirtless 20-year-old Moises Arias. Marla Hooch 2.0 posted this picture to her Tumblr account (named Kalifornia Klasss, not to be confused with her mother’s company, Kalifornia Klasssy Kall Girls) of her straddling a shirtless Jaden, who looks like he just ripped a truly satisfying fart. “It’s cool, I’m used to it; I live with a family of giant gas-filled asses” – Marla Hooch.
But the fuckery doesn’t end with just owning an expensive camera and taking stupid photos. Marla Hooch also displayed her talent as an ~artiste~ by tattooing her initials on the hand of Lionel Richie’s son Miles. TMZ has a video of her begin assisted by a tattoo artist, which is a big no-no, since Marla is only 16-years-old and the LA County Department of Public Health requires a person to be at least 18 to give or assist in the giving of a tattoo. Then again, if things that fell from Kris Jenner’s rotten silly putty vagina cared about public health, Kim Kardashian would have never let Ray J’s questionable dick piss on her.
Here’s more from Kylie and Jaden’s dumb bobo-90s-Guess-ad photo shoot. I have a lot of questions about that second picture, specifically – what the hell is Marla Hooch doing sniffing around Jaden’s ass? Someone needs to tell her you can’t siphon relevancy from a marginally-famous butthole.
And that, my friends, is the exact face one should make when they’re in the presence of one of Pimp Mama Kris’s Krotch Droppings. “I don’t care how much we paid for admission, we need to leave. Now. Seeing one of the babies means that the mother isn’t far behind.”
Friday marked the kick-off of the world’s largest hipster costume party, the Coachella Jorts and Selfies Festival in Indio, CA, and I guess all those $20,000 cheques cleared, because celebrities have started swarming Coachella like rats to an open dumpster behind KFC. Now, technically Coachella doesn’t officially begin until the arrival of the First Lady of Fauxhemia, Vanessa Hudgens. But since it usually takes her hours, even days, to get ready (it takes time to dry hump the 70s), she usually let’s them go ahead and start without her.
I know we’re less than 24-hours into this weekend-long Urban Outfitters commercial, but already Aaron Paul has won my heart by embracing the true spirit of Coachella. It’s not about $200 custom jorts or having the longest gauzy vest or the widest hat; it’s about dancing like nobody’s watching while rolling hard on shrooms:
Either Aaron Paul is higher than Jesse Pinkman after snorting a pound of blue crystal meth, or he’s working hard for that $15,000. Either way, I’ll be right back: I need to pray to a giant piece of New Age quartz that there’s a video somewhere of Aaron Paul dancing to Ellie Goulding all by himself in a little circle, because I need that in my life.
Here’s more hookers clickety-clacking along the Coachella stroll on Friday, including Selena Gomez (sans King Joffrey Bieber), Marla Hooch and The Model One (that sounds like an 80s cop show: Hooch & The Model) Joe Jonas and his girlfriend Basic Bitch Blanda, a rotten leftover from the refrigerator of 2005 and her sister Nicky Hilton, and Kellan Lutz, who if I had to guess, got paid $200 and a voucher to a taco stand:
I thought I’d be strong enough to handle this, but I was so wrong. Immediately after I saw this picture of my beautiful earth angel Bruce Jenner smiling and holding hands with that morally bankrupt Botox dumpster Pimp Mama Kris - a she-devil I was certain he was free from the clutches of, mind you – I started cycling through the Kübler-Ross model of 5 stages of grief. At first I was in denial (“He’s just escorting a Michael Jackson impersonator through the airport!”), then anger (I broke every dish, glass, and crystal unicorn in my home, and lit a box of Wheaties on fire), bargaining (“Do you want me to carve up my nose into a silly putty penis?? I’ll do it! I’ll do anything to keep you from returning to that evil hag!”), followed by depression (listening to this song on repeat while weeping loudly on the kitchen floor).
But I finally reached acceptance. I’m a strong woman who can get over the hurt Juicy Brucie has caused. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Oh for fucks sakes, who am I kidding? I’m still at anger and depression. As of right now, I’m typing with one hand and tearing up my favorite pin-ups of Brucie while screaming the lyrics to “I Can’t Make You Love Me” at full-volume. Somebody PLEASE send the following to my apartment: 2 Fudgie the Whale cakes, 10 therapy dogs (puppies pls), and Kelly Clarkson to sing “Stronger”. It’s going to be a long night.
Here’s more of that cold heartless bitch Brucie Jenner joyfully prancing around with Satan’s most sickening slut (no, literally; Satan can barely get through a blow job without barfing all over her head) at LAX. Trailing closely behind, of course, is Kash Kow Kim, looking the definition of tacky and cheap, along with The No-Talent Trio: Khloe-tron, The Model One, and notoriously good hitter Marla Hooch:
“Why? WHHYYYY? She knew I worked so hard on turning Kim into a fashion icon. I took a lumpy goblin-tramp, power washed off 4 of her 8 layers of skank, and created a sophisticated beauty that makes Grace Kelly look like an damp pile of used diapers. Ricardo, why would she do this to me??” Then Riccardo Tisci softly stroked his head (no comment) and whispered: “There, there. Shhh, don’t cry. It’s not worth crying about, Kanye. There’s always Elle; maybe she’ll get on the cover of Elle?”
Things will no doubt be very awkward at the Kardashian-Jenner dinner table this evening after Kendall Jenner (the nipples one, not the Marla Hooch one) uploaded this picture of her sitting in the front row of the Topshop Unique show with Anna Wintour to Instagram yesterday. Sitting beside Anna Wintour at a fashion show either means you’re going to be on the cover of Vogue, she wanted a snack and chose to eat your soul, or both. But everyone knows that Kendall’s soul was sold to Satan seven years ago, and that if Anna was going to put any of the tacky Kardashian-Jenners on the cover of Vogue, it would be Khloe (to troll the shit out of Kim and Kanye). So let’s just assume it was because the spot beside Anna was reserved for the Death Eater of her choice, but Satan got held up in a meeting, and sent one of his least-offensive minions in his place.
Here’s more of Kendall Jenner and Anna Wintour leaving the Topshop show yesterday, and they each get a Say Something Nice. For a girl who comes from a family with a chronic addiction to too-tight clothes, Kendall looks very nice. And Anna…um…barely looks like a praying mantis? Yeah, that works.
“Alright goblins, first lesson. You’ll never be as beautiful and glamorous as I; you share DNA with Kris, which means the cards are already stacked against you. I advise you work with what you’ve got: shine up your hooves, embrace that forked tongue, and choose skirts that highlight your pointy devil tails. Oh, and a bit of unsolicited advice? Your skin should be pulled so tightly you can bounce a quarter off it. I can’t give you the name of my surgeon, because he only works on 10s, but I know a guy who does pro-bono work for unfortunate 5s like yourselves.”
How humble and thoughtful of Bruce Jenner to allow Khloe and notoriously-good hitter Marla Hooch to join him on Valentine’s Day. Brucie could have had his pick of Hollywood starlets, Saudi Princes, the starting lineup of the Miami Heat (“Aw, jealous!” – Kim Kardashian) but instead he chose to take pity on the gruesome twosome and invited them to have lunch with him. Angelina Jolie just got nervous and clutched her World’s Prettiest Humanitarian award a little tighter.
Here’s more of BRUCIE!! (and those two other hags) filming scenes at a cafe for Keeping Up With Satan’s A-Team. I hope the reason Khloe looks distraught is because they’re filming the scene where Brucie announces he’s leaving. “NOOOOO! She-Hulk so sad! What will people do without Bruce’s delicate features dazzling their televisions?!?!”
Things got a little out of hand yesterday at the Jenner home (I say ‘home’ because I’m not sure there’s a word for ‘open fiery hole that leads directly to Hell’) when Khloe Kardashian and Kylie Jenner started fucking around on the backyard trampoline. Not aware of her own Hulk-like strength, Khloe bounced her sister a bit too hard and she landed on her back (following in Kim’s footsteps, eh?). Kylie then posted a selfie to Instagram of her hand covering her face with the caption:
In the hospital thanks to @khloekardashian. my mom said “never thought I would take u to the doctor for a trampoline accident at this age) this means war Khloe. Ps. It was painful taking this photo.
I’m sure Kris was hoping that by now she’d be taking her to the hospital for a teen pregnancy or an overdose or something that would drum up much more publicity, but a trampoline accident will have to do. At the same time Kris was instructing the paps to meet her at Malibu Veterinary (Kris’s children are technically more hellbeast than human) Khloe was posting the above picture to her Instagram with the caption:
Kylie this is proof you did it to yourself! Sorry not sorry! Just kidding I am sorry my little bug a boo!! Let the war continue!!!!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it turns out Khloe is actually a mole and is attempting to pick off each Kardashian/Jenner though a series of carefully orchestrated “accidents”? First Kylie on the trampoline, then Kendall in the pool, Kourtney on a jet ski, Kim reading a book (thinking would make her brain implode). Speaking of, as Kylie was getting ready to go to the vet, Kim joined Khloe outside on the trampoline:
Well what do we have here? A tramp famous for bouncing on big black things bouncing on a big black thing known as a tramp. I’d say that Khloe should have pushed her off when she had the chance, but it wouldn’t have done anything. Her body is padded in so much delusion it would be impossible to break any bones, and a blow to the cranium can’t do any damage when you’re already brain dead.
(Pics via Instagram)
16-year-old Kylie Jenner posted this pic on Instagram on January 2nd with the caption ”My monogamy it bothers you” and there is so, SO much to be bothered by. First, the combination of that pose with that outfit. If Kris Jenner hadn’t taken the form of Beezlebub when she first landed here on Earth, I’d be asking where the hell Kylie’s mother is, but we all know that’s a lost cause. Kris probably handled the wardrobe, makeup, hair, lighting, art direction and photography herself on this fuckery.
Second, what the hell does that caption even mean??!?? Did she really mean monogamy because the last time anybody checked, Thing 2 swore she was single and not playing 7 Minutes in Heaven with Jaden Smith or anybody else. Maybe she meant mahogany. Or Monopoly. Either way, I’m far more comfortable thinking that she’s talking about furniture or board games and that Kylie’s homeschooling is falling short in the vocabulary lesson department than I am thinking someone would actually be bothered by a teenage girl’s monogamy.
NOW GET OFF THE DAMN FLOOR, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON AND GET OFF MY LAWN, KYLIE!
Evil fame whore matchmaker Kris Jenner is somewhere at war with the devils on her shoulders after seeing the pictures of Jaden Smith with Kylie Jenner at the Believe premiere. The one on the right is whispering, “But it’s the Smiths!” while the other one says, “But look at what the fuck it’s wearing!”
Devil #2 can come sit with me, because I’m getting a tidal wave of secondhand embarrassment looking at Jaden’s ensemble, and this is coming from a mother of three who, on more than one occasion, has walked into the supermarket with a kid trailing behind wearing a muscle Hulk costume, flip flops, sunglasses Elton John would pass up and a cross-body Hello Kitty purse he begged me for at the Goodwill store.
Regardless of whatever stunt fuckery Kris might try to pull, Kylie told Seventeen Prom (via NYDN) that she and Jaden are just good friends.
“If I couldn’t find a boyfriend, I would want to go with one of my best guy friends, like Jaden (Smith),” she admitted. “I know I’d have fun with him — he makes me laugh and he is a great dancer.”
Rumors have swirled for some time now about the “friendship” between Jenner and the 15-year-old son of Will and Jade Smith, but she assures she’s a single girl.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,“ she told the mag, which hits newsstands Dec. 25. “But I really want that boyfriend prom experience.”
Kylie needs to start praying at the Kardashian altar (it’s just the foyer table on which everyone throws their juvaderm pamphlets) that she finds someone to take her to the damn prom besides Will and Jada’s kid. Do they even make tuxedos out of Bruce-approved kicky scarves, eyesight test posters, athletic compression shorts, hobo socks and desperate attempts to make oneself happen?
Thank you, Harry Styles! My job is easier when the jokes write themselves; an Egg McMuffin basket is coming your way.
Harry Styles (a name that always sounds like a character from an Austin Powers movie) has another album to promote, which means his high-profile showmance with a Jenner is still going strong! Do I even need to specify which Jenner? They’re the same fucking person; dark shiny hair, drowsy-ass eyes, and about as much personality as the busted handle on a shopping bag. But of you MUST know, it’s still Kendall (aka not the one that looks like a dead ringer for Marla Hooch).
E! Online reports that Harry and Kendall (Karry? Hendall? Whocares? Yes, that one!) followed up their dinner date in LA last month with a date at the Gansevoort Hotel in NYC on Saturday. Chill out, moms across America, I can guarantee you they weren’t fucking. Harry and Kendall probably watched Clueless on Netflix while Kendall’s agents, Kris Jenner and Beelzebub, finalized contract specifics (“For the last time, Ms. Jenner, there will be no sex tape released. Please stop setting up the tripod for your Sony Handycam” - Harry’s agent).
After leaving the hotel, Us Weekly reports that Harry and Kendall’s snore-show (I’d call it Ambien! The Musical) made it’s way to Therapy, a gay bar in Hell’s Kitchen. According to bargoers, the two never got up to dance because – DUH – spontaneous natural movement doesn’t run in Kendall’s family. Kendall, stop being lazy; do you want to put “bearding” as a skill on your resume or not? Just remember: what would the Patron Saint of Hired Girlfriends, Taylor Swift do? She’d dance, call the paps, brush her hair 1000 strokes, AND hold a baby at the same time to convince us her and Harry were the real deal.
Fans are reacting about as predictably crazy One Direction fans would (ie. crazy, supportive, happy, crazy) but the best reaction to Harry and Kendall’s coupling I found comes from a commenter known simply as Me:
Don’t you just want to hug her? Oh, you dear, sweet, clueless little thing; you have so much to learn about
strategic marketing and PR romance.