I’ve always thought that if you’re going to burn bridges, cover that shit in gallons of gasoline, light that bitch up with a grenade, and after they’re all burned down, piss on the ashes while laughing. It seems like Noah Galvin, the star of the ABC show The Real O’Neals, agrees with me, because during an interview with Vulture, dude sharpened his shank, went in, cleaned it off with a towel, sharpened it a second time and went in again. Noah lined up Colton Haynes, Bryan Singer, some unnamed guest actor on his show, Eric Stonestreet and more and read them until his finger tips got sore from turning the pages. This interview is very “gay Katherine Heigl on steroids.” He let us KNOW!
Prince Hot Ginge and that other one continued to work really, really hard for that taxpayer money today by playing with Star Wars stuff and meeting the cast at Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire. PHG and Prince George’s papa je’e met Mark Hamill and Daisy Ridley who are currently filming Star Wars: Episode Who Cares What It’s Called It’s Still Going To Make Forty Billion Dollars No Matter What. PHG also had a sweet moment with Chewbacca, and if I was into wookie-on-human-porn (Tip of the day: Don’t Google “wookie-on-human-porn“), I’d check myself into an insane asylum, but before I did that, I’d print out this picture, grab a tub of Crisco and lock myself in my bedroom for the next 4 hours.
One thing I learned from that picture is that if I want to get a sweet hug from PHG, I need to be over 7 feet tall, covered in mangy hair, smell like wet dog ass and have bugs living on my body. I better learn how to walk in stilts, spray myself with one of Justin Bieber’s cologne and go through Brit Brit Spears’ trash cans for cast-off weaves I can tape to my body. I hear you saying, “At least you don’t have to worry about getting bugs to live on your body since I’m sure you’re already covered in crabs.” Haha, very funny. (You’re right.)
And here’s another picture of PHG and his brother having a light saber fight.
Since my brain is always set to “sucio” I would say, “I’d wish they’d take that sword fight to my mouth,” but gross. Not with Prince William holding the other “sword.” Now if it was Prince Philip, that’d be a different story.
Pics: WPA Pool, Getty @KensingtonRoyal
Johnny Depp And Amber Heard Give The Performances Of Their Careers In This Hostage, I Mean, Apology Video
Thank you to Australia for starting this Monday off right with a heaping serving of extra greasy schadenfreude topped with a dollop of chunky cringe. Amber Heard and dirty clump of drain hair Johnny Depp were in a Gold Coast courtroom this morning for the case of the century! Amber was charged with two accounts of illegally importing pooches after she and Johnny Depp shat on Australia’s quarantine laws by smuggling their Yorkies Boo and Pistol into the country on a private jet. Australia law states that dogs coming in from foreign countries must be put into quarantine for at least 10 days. Boo and Pistol are registered in Amber’s name, so she’s the trick who went down and was hit with charges.
Amber said last year that she planned to spit out a not guilty plea in court, but I guess she didn’t want to risk getting thrown into an Australian prison cell and miss out on serving up her try hard pose game at events. Because CNN says that she pleaded guilty to falsifying quarantine documents. The Yorkie smuggling charges were dropped. The court gave Amber an extra, extra light swat on the wrist by sentencing her to a one-month good behavior bond. If she breaks the bond, she’ll have to pay a fine of 1,000 Australian dollars.
Amber’s lawyers told the court that she had the tireds when she filled out the immigration forms after arriving in Australia and she thought her assistant was the one handling Boo and Pistol’s travel stuff. The best part of all of this was the apology video that Johnny and Amber were forced to make. It’s like watching two spoiled ass brats apologizing to the kid they bullied as their moms watch. Watching the embalmed dried prune that is Johnny Depp trying to give one fuck while talking about Australia’s biosecurity laws just made my entire week. To achieve that concerned in the face look, Johnny’s acting coach probably told him to slowly push out a fart while shooting this public display of awkward. It looks like he’s being forced to watch Mortdecai. Not since Cry-Baby has Johnny Depp given such a multi-layered performance!
And I bet that somewhere off camera, Barnaby Joyce (Australia’s agriculture minister who was called a “fame whore” by Amber and got threatened with an ass kicking by Johnny) was holding a gun to Johnny’s favorite scarf while saying, “With feeling, bitch! With feeling! Or the scarf gets it!”
I know what I’m doing this weekend. I’m going to go to every church in my area to slip an extremely important addendum into every Holy Bible in every pew. And that extremely important addendum is: Frontiers Magazine’s Oral History of The Golden Girls.
Frontiers Magazine got some of the writers and producers from the greatest show of all-time, The Golden Girls, to share pieces of priceless gems about the show and its stars. What I learned from it is that Estelle Getty adored the gay community and Rue McClanahan once got cat-called by construction workers and she loved it. But as Jezebel points out, the best story is about how Bea Arthur was never the one. Nowadays, famous whores have it oh-so-easy. If a hating hater hates on them, they can easily slap that trick in 140 characters or less on Twitter. Back in The Golden Girls days, famous types had to do a little work to shut a ho down.
No, I’m not talking about his Grammys Red Solo Cup. He doesn’t own that anymore. He donated it to the Museum of Cool Dads.
America doesn’t run on Dunkin’ anymore. Right now, the world, including America, runs on the stories from musicians who were told by David Bowie to chew on an anus scab and swallow. Ambien’s biggest competitor, Coldplay, already told us about the time that David Bowie refused to collaborate with them because he felt the song belonged at the bottom of a Port-A-Potty bowl. Bowie also turned down a collaboration with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and told Bono that his musical Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark should’ve been called Spider-Man: Just Turn That Turd Off. Well, now Dave Grohl has his own “…the time David Bowie shat on me” story.
Last night, Khlozilla went on a painkiller-induced Sasquatch rampage on Twitter when she told people to get off dick after they gave her shit for staying with her boyfriend James Harden while still nursing and being married to Lamar Odom. But well, if you ask the most important woman in Hollywood and human orchid Paz De La Huerta about this, she’d tell you that little Twitter tussle should’ve never happened, because nobody should be following the Kartrashians.
On her Instagram yesterday, the greasy jewel delivered an important announcement to the world and to Kanye Kartrashian. There’s a war happening right now and we do not need to be distracted by that idiot trash Kim Kartrashian! Paz deleted her post (it still lives here), because she probably realized that in posting about Kim, she was giving Kim attention. Or she decided that she’ll save that speech for when she testifies at the anti-Kardashian hearings at the United Nations. Seriously, why aren’t Paz and Natasha from Top Model the co-leaders of the United Nations? #PazBeGandhiAndJesus.
And since no Paz post is complete without stunning pictures of her, here she is back in April looking like heaven in a trash bag.
Pics: Splash (Thanks Philip!)
When I pulled my hung over, broke off and dozed off body out of bed this morning, I almost went back to bed when I went through my feed and got the image of Justin Bieber praying to the Gods above to let him top One Direction. If you stay really quiet and open up your ear holes really wide, you can hear the sound of Usher cackling over the Biebs trying to top anyone.
After I saw this perfect headline that will no doubt win every Peabody Award, I didn’t even want to read the story, because that mess is the only thing I needed. But Page Six’s story is about how Justin Bieber and One Direction are currently wrestling for the top position in the Battle of the Tattooed Twinks (“I’ve had that wet dream before!” – Kevin Spacey). Both the Biebs’ redemption album Purpose and One Direction’s album Made In The A.M. came out on Friday and only one of them can be on top. Billboard said a couple of days ago that the Biebs has spit on the hairless b-holes of One Direction and is getting ready to stick the tip in, because expert types say that his album is selling more than theirs. That probably has to do with his team doing whatever it takes for him to top One Direction. The Biebs is trying to find ways to “pump” up his album sales so he can really stick it to 1D good. Beaver balls deep good.
Sources say his team’s found ways to pump album sales including bundling his new release, “Purpose,” with tickets to two Staples Center shows last week — “That would be nearly another 40,000 albums [sold] right there,” said a source. He’s also partnered with ride-hailing app Lyft to give riders a download of his album for $5 through a “buy and ride” button. “Those will also go toward the charts,” a source said.
And seriously, I don’t know whether to hate Page Six or love Page Six, because the week has barely started, and burned into my brain is the picture of the 1D dudes with their asses up, trying not to laugh as Justin Bieber tries to top them one by one.
Here’s Justin Bieber’s dream bottoms leaving BBC Radio 2 yesterday.
The answer to that headline question is: Lots of people, apparently. Weird, I know. And I felt like a picture of the Target Lady giving two imaginary hand jobs and one imaginary blow job was appropriate for this story.
Usually when I hear orgasm moans and “OH YES! OH FUCKING YES!” sounds at Target, it’s from someone’s mom losing her mind over Doorbuster deals on Dove body wash and Glaceau Fruit Water. But at a Target in Campbell, CA on Wednesday morning, the orgasm moans filling the store was from a porn that accidentally played on the speakers. Executives at Walmart are probably rolling their eyes at that, because yeah, Target may give you sounds from a porn, but if you go to any of their locations in Florida, you can see a meth head jacking off onto a shower puff while butt boning himself with a toothbrush.
When us regulars want to get back at an asshole slut cheating ex-piece, we scream, “You fucked my friend, you whore,” outside of his job before spray painting the words “You Cheating Bastard” on his car in red. But when scorned bitches with cash to burn want to get revenge, they pay a plane to fly a beautiful “CHEATER” banner during their ex’s special moment. Bow down, because this is how it’s done.
The come-to-life annoying Alfred E. Neuman bobblehead that is Bobby Flay got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame yesterday for his achievement in writing a check for thousands of dollars with the words “For my Hollywood Walk of Fame star” written in the memo part. During the ceremony, a thing of petty bitch beauty happened when a plane flew overhead carrying a “CHEATER” banner. Since the plane flew over Hollywood, that gorgeously cuntastic message could have been for 95% of the population, but it was obviously meant for the throbbing pimple on the Food Network’s taint and his alleged wandering dick.
A witness type tells E! News that the plane magically appeared right when Bobby took the mic to give his “acceptance speech” and circled the area until he was done. Why am I picturing Stephanie March whispering the words, “Okay, counting down… 3..2..1… go,” into a walkie while disguised as a tree on the street?
Nobody has taken credit for shitting on Bobby Flay’s day in a beautiful way yet, but of course, everyone’s looking at his estranged wife Stephanie March. But I’d like to believe that as that plane flew by, noted nightmare maker Ina Garten was on a nearby hotel rooftop bar cackling into the sky while holding a limoncello martini.
Three shocking things happened last night:
1. I fell into a red wine and cheese and peanut butter crackers-induced coma on my bed and House Hunters International was NOT playing on my TV. This hasn’t happened in months and no wonder I had sex nightmares that involved Chris Brown. House Hunters International always lulls me into a peaceful sleep.
2. Brit Brit Spears opened up her mouth and actual words produced by her voice box came out.
3. Brit Brit Spears’ mic was actually turned on during her show in Las Vegas.
Everything you thought you knew about the world was flipped, flopped and fucked sideways last night when Brit Brit spoke and everybody heard it because her mic was actually live. Both Digital Spy and TMZ says that during her Piece Of Me show at Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas last night, some messy trick in the audience called her a “fat bitch.” It was probably that Utz Girl. Trick is still pissed that Brit Brit chose Chester Cheetah as her main boo. You know that Utz Girl can hold a grudge and you know how she gets when she’s drunk. Brit heard the heckler, which is also surprising, because I didn’t think she paid attention during her shows. I just thought she moved her lips, waved her arms and thought about where she’s going to make Daddy Spears take her for ice cweam afterward.
Brit Brit launched a beautiful fuck word at the hater and her mic was on so everyone heard. The mic being on was probably a mistake. That’s some Robert Durst shit and it gave us this beautiful moment:
Kudos to the person who acted fast and brought Brit Brit’s hard drive out of sleep mode by moving her wireless mouse around. Now this is the Our Lady of Cheetos I love. More of this. But she didn’t really need to say anything since she already won. That fat bitch already got that heckler’s MONAY!
Here’s Brit Brit giving you Softer Side of Sears glamour at one of the Cheetolings’ soccer game a few days ago.