If you woke up feeling broke, bitter and hungover like me, the Carter-Knowles are here to rub salt in your wound and point out that you are an imperfect poor ass who could never shut the Louvre down for a day so that you could ask the Venus De Milo to hold your purse and snap a few phone pics of you and your lovely family and then laugh because it’s funny because she has no arms. If you woke up feeling Awesome McWinnerson on top of the world, the Carter-Knowles are here to knock your ass off that high horse and point out that you’re an imperfect broke ass fighting the Louvre crowd basic bitch. At least they don’t play favorites, right?
So here are pictures that Beyonce posted of her perfect family day on Wednesday with Jay Z and Blue Ivy. You may want to put on your RayBans and some SPF 500 before you click, lest you get third degree burns on your eyeballs and everywhere else from gazing upon the white hot perfection of Illuminati Delacroix, Mona Lisa likes to take two fingers, Watch And Learn Psyche and Amore, and Marilyn Monblue Ivy. It’s like staring directly at the sun or masturbating: too much and you’ll go blind (GOOD – you). You can browse the gallery below or you can go to beyonce.com to see MY LIFE flashing over all the photos. YES WE KNOW, and thanks alot for ruining my monitor when I wrote FUCK over the MY LIFE with a Sharpie.
You know the real reason they shut down the Louvre is so the plebes wouldn’t see the Night At The Museum scene when all the paintings and statues came to life to fantard all over and photobomb the Bay-Jays. You might think that the Carters were taking pictures of themselves with the world famous artwork, but it was actually the other way around. And now you know why the Mona Lisa’s tits are autographed…it’s not graffiti, Mona begged them to do it and now refuses to ever bathe again.
The face of the art world is about to get covered with a load of sticky, pineapple-infused cum and surprisingly enough, it’s not going to come from James Franco’s mouth. Franco, Lady CaCa, Joaquin Phoenix, Shia LaBeouf and Jay-Z can all eject themselves out of the art world, because a new challenger has arrived. Moonshine’s answer to Jeff Koons made a collection of sculptures (read: bitch didn’t make shit on her own) using crap and junk she’s collected from fans and airport stores during her tour. Miley Cyrus is going to debut her sculptures at V Magazine’s office gallery in Manhattan tomorrow. One of Miley’s cracked out “sculptures” is a pineapple and she tells V (via Jezebel, or in this case we should call it Jizzebel) that she created it after being inspired by yummy cum.
“This one’s a vibrator, which I got from a fan. They threw it on stage. And that’s a joint [attached to it], so that’s the vibe. I’ve gotten more and more about piling things on, but I try to put thought into everything. Even though it’s so stupid, I did the pineapple because you know what they say about pineapple, right? Yummy cum? If you drink a lot of pineapple juice you’re going to have yummy cum. So that’s why I put it on the dick with a bunch of babies, and it says, “Fuck.” I try to think about everything so it has a story to me.”
Here’s more proof that bad things happen when Miley Cyrus and Wayne Coyne from The Flaming Lips get together.
I thought that Wayne Coyne getting a janky prison tattoo of Miley Cyrus’ dead dog inked into his flesh was the worst decision involving Miley that he’s ever made, but he proved me wrong with this way-too-long acid nightmare of a movie that melted parts of my brain about 15 seconds in. This is Nancy Reagan’s new favorite movie and she wishes it would’ve come out in the 80s, because it’s the perfect anti-drugs PSA.
The video, which The Flaming Lips call “Blonde SuperFreak Steals the Magic Brain” and Guantanamo Bay officials call “our new favorite torture device,” starts out with a rejected John Waters character stealing JFK’s brain (which has the formula for LSD in it) from a half-dead Miley. That first shot of a barely alive Miley drooling out foam is you while watching this video. Moby, who did himself like Pimp Mama Kris in her purest form, plays a cult leader who orders his minions, Lesbian Bigfoot and Nympho Manson Girl, to steal the glob of acid slime from Miley. Wayne described that mess like this to Rolling Stone:
“The video story is something like this: Moby is an evil, power-hungry cult leader. He wants the world’s most valuable (according to our story) psychedelic supernatural possession… John F. Kennedy’s brain….the brain contains the original formula for the drug LSD!!!
Miley Cyrus has the magic brain!!! And Moby enlists a nympho Manson girl-type blonde superfreak to go steel the brain from Cyrus.
She steals the brain from Cyrus while Cyrus is still in bed in a drug-induced coma. Cyrus finally wakes up and is mega-pissed that her BRAIN has been stolen. She enlists a burned-faced Santa and a lesbian Bigfoot ( that are hovering in a nearby spaceship) to hunt down the blond superfreak that stole her brain. They have a relentless pursuit, all the while Cyrus laments the loss of her magic brain and Moby gains powerful rainbows from hell. In the end, the blond superfreak kills Santa and Bigfoot and a baby mole ends up with the brain…”
The TL;DR version of Wayne Coyne’s description is: “I love drugs!”
This is something that a freshmen film major who thinks they’re the next David Lynch would make and edit while blindfolded and high on freon, because they really want to impress their professor James Franco.
If you really want to put your will to live to the test, watch the NSFWness below. If you make it past 10 seconds like I did, I’ll see you in the check-in area of Bellevue, because we obviously need serious help and shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions for ourselves.
As expected, Madge and Miley Cyrus performed a mash-up of “Don’t Tell Me/We Can’t Stop” on MTV Unplugged tonight and damn it was a hoedown, hoeup mess! I guess Miley and Madge both shrugged and said in unison, “Rehearsals? Who needs it? Let’s smoke pot and make out with each other instead since we’re both 21 year old girls!”
If Regina George and Regina’s mom were dirt poor, lived in Appalachia and huffed a whole lot of freon from other people’s air conditioning units before they won the lottery and moved to the big city, this is the mother/daughter performance they’d do during the talent show at Regina’s new private high school:
All together now: JUST STOP! PLEASE! WE’RE NOT TELLING YOU. WE’RE BEGGING YOU.
But you know, it was almost so weird and tragic that I loved it. It was like watching a veteran seasoned stripper and an amateur stripper grind together during the 9am-12pm shift at a strip club in Texas that’s frequented by drifters who can only afford to tip them in squirrel meat and random motel keys. Madge looked awkward and uncomfortable and they both looked like they were forced to do it.
Madge looked like a half-assed La Tigresa Del Oriente impersonator and Miley looked like Hilary Swank as Brandon Teena as seen through the eyes of Harmony Korine. And Miley’s outfit. The hell? It looked like the outfit Punky Brewster wore when she was brutally mauled by hyenas.
And since Miley looks like a 17-year-old boy, Madge is totally going to start dating her. I’m calling it now.
Obviously Ryan Sweeting, the poor sap who is legally obligated to fawn over Kaley Cuoco ’til imploding Hollywood marriage do they part, didn’t get the memo that NOBODY who isn’t saying something nice for PR’s sake is putting money on their marital bliss lasting.
Someone couldn’t have thrown a Magic 8 Ball his way? A Ouija board? A Google image of Johnny Depp’s “Wino Forever” tattoo? Their crazy uncle’s glass eye that he swears has magical powers? Anything Ryan could have used to look into the future to see that he should spend some of his kept boy toy allowance on a gift certificate for laser tattoo removal with an expiration date no more than a year away?
Someone once told me a story about an 18-year-old girl who got the name “Richard” tattooed on her inner thigh with an arrow pointing up toward her holla bits. At the very least, she should have had it say “Dick” so it would be universal for every guy that came after him (pun 100% intended).
Kanye West is an ingrown hair on society’s throbbing anus, but for once I am happy that he exists, because he created this glorious piece of dried shit that Kim Kardashian will definitely carry around in public.
Kim Kartashian threw up a picture on Instagram of the fucked-up, Illuminati Birkin bag that Kanye West gave to her for Khristmas. Kanye got artist George Condo to paint a stunning work of art on an overpriced Birkin bag. That mess is so ugly that I wouldn’t even drop a shit in it if I had the runs. Hell, I don’t even think Lucifer himself would take a dump in that shit. So I love that Kim will have to carry it around. It seriously looks like some kind of dark-sided shit you’d buy at the Illuminati gift shop for your greatest enemy. A bag that needs an exorcism is the perfect bag for Kim!
But seriously, it was very kind of Kanye to put a Kardashian family portrait on a bag for Kim. Pimp Mama Kris has never looked more beautiful (that’s her all the way to the left, right?). Kim actually looks human (that’s her next to PMK, right?). Khloe looks female for once (or is that Bruce?) and George Condo made Kourtney look like she has other facial expressions besides “duuuuuuurrrrrr.”
A true work of shitty art!
If you’re still wondering what to get for the “this-close-to-being-a-hoarder-about-it” doll lover in your life or that asshole in your family you’re willing to spend any amount of money on to creep the fuck out, may I present this exquisite, albeit confusing doll of Prince George. Created by artist Fiorenza Biancheri, the doll retails for $149.99, is 20 inches long with a 30-inch replica of the royal christening gown and looks absolutely nothing like George.
The Bradford Exchange (via E! News) doesn’t seem concerned that the doll is an exact replica of HRH Prince You Tried.
According to the website, “each realistic detail of this gorgeous royal Prince royal baby doll is exquisitely hand-painted to perfectly highlight his delicate features.”
“Strong demand is anticipated for this royal baby doll, so don’t delay,” reads the Bradford Exchange site. “Order now!”
Of course there will be high demand! Marie Osmond has most likely pre-ordered one for every member of her family and that is a lot of fucking dolls. I’m waiting for a Groupon to get Michael K one because he already said he thinks the eyebrows are beauteous. That really goes without saying, given the artist obviously took them straight from any Google image of Pam Anderson.
If the Bradford Exchange had any sense, they would have let Daniel Edwards, sculptor of the (NSFW-ish) Katherine-Heigl-as-Britney birth statue handle the Prince George doll. It still wouldn’t have looked a damn thing like George, but at least there is a strong possibility Daniel would have at least thrown pics of Prince William and Duchess Kate into one of those virtual “What Will Your Baby Look Like” sites. The doll then would at least have Will’s nose and his mother’s gray hair instead of his mother’s original nose and his father’s hair.
(Pic: The Bradford Exchange)
I swear on my favorite tit that I’m not on the Kim Kardashian payroll, it’s just that this bitch is EVERYWHERE. Plus, she only pays 10% and I don’t get out of bed for less than 15 because someone needs to subsidize the high class lifestyle I lead that includes off-brand Nutella and twist-top wine.
Anyway, USWeekly‘s latest cover is Kim (no surprise) in a white bikini (even less of a surprise) with the tag lines “No gimmicks! No surgery!” and “Kim slams the fat bullies and gets her sweet revenge”, which is some well played shade. Referencing sugar when you know damn well Kim lost her weight on Atkins and hasn’t put anything sweet in her mouth since Reggie Bush packed up his dick and left!.
Everybody pick up their phones and call bullshit on “no gimmicks” because that is the exact opposite of the definition of “Kardashian”, but I can sort of buy Kim’s weight loss being surgery-free. You know, as long as they’re not factoring in the part about her gaining a pound in her lips for every ten she lost off her hips. Even if she didn’t back herself up to an empty bay at the plastic surgeon’s office to have him Shop-Vac her ass, whatever she did to her face brought her one step closer to scoring the cover for National Geograhic’s anteater issue.
Before everybody starts yelling, “Where’s your baby???”, you should know the photographer took a handful of pictures of Kim as NorthSouthEastWestU-Turn took a quick cat nap before packing up and heading back to the photo lab donated in the Kardashian family’s name by Adobe.
PETA better sharpen their shank, because some other charity called Fishlove is copying their game by using naked celebrities to spread their cause or something. Fishlove is trying to raise awareness for overfishing and obviously when you want to raise awareness for overfishing you drape dead creatures of the sea around naked famous hos including Gillian Anderson. I really don’t know what’s going on here, but I do know that eel wants nothing to do with this scene.
Fishlove sounds like the name of some illegal ass, dark-sided fetish that’ll get you banned from every aquarium and will make your friends hide their goldfish when you come over. (Side note: Fishlove also sounds like the name for a group of fans who appreciate Joanna Krupa’s vagine.) This is like Japanese anime porn come to life.
Somebody get Misty Day to bring Jacques Cousteau back to life so that he can slap down all the hos involved in this mess. Actually, maybe that’s not such a good idea, because if he came back to life and saw this, he might get the weirdest boner.
Sydney Leathers, best known for being former NYC mayoral candidate Anthony Weiner’s sexting partner, graduated to full-blown porn earlier this year (I’m so sorry) and has become so self-conscious about the state of her sperm harbor that she has decided to undergo a labiaplasty. TMZ reports that Sydney is going to spend $8,400 to have her floor-length meat curtains trimmed up to valance length. That’s a lot of money to make your shit not look like something Bea Arthur wore on Golden Girls, especially when there’s such a glaring need to move that hairline halfway between it’s current location and Theresa Giudice.
It gets worse, though. If you’re clinging to a rocky ledge on the top of Mount Nausea this morning after waking up spooning either an empty bottle or some hose beast who was your best option at last call a few hours ago, allow Sydney to stomp on your fingers in exquisite heels from Discountstripper.com to send your hungover ass hurtling into the vomiting abyss. TMZ also said she will be SELLING her expertly butchered deli meat cast-offs on abiBids.com.
I hate myself for trying to figure out which category they would be listed under. RARE Finds? That could work if there’s a roast beef pun in there somewhere. All I know is that someone at that website needs to change the name of Memorabilia to Memoralabia for the duration of the auction if that’s what Sydney’s leather is going to be categorized as. There’s no minimum unless you count dignity, so bid away, sick fucks!