There’s really no reason for using Miley Cyrus to cover up cellphone lady’s no-no bits other than that I just thought it was the most appropriate choice, given that she’s sort of the current definition of drug-dipped WTF. And this story of Usher charging his phone in a pussy is all kinds of WTF. So just like every other celebrity in existence, dog whistle-voiced crooner Usher was at Art Basel in Miami taking in the deeply pretentious sights and sounds. And according to Gawker, one of the things he stumbled upon was a naked woman in a Jackie Rogers Jr. wig charging iPhones from her vagina. So naturally, he gave her his phone and she charged it.
Now, before you go cursing out your own down-lows for being lazy good for nothings who refuse to learn new skills like charging mobile devices, it appears from the pictures over at TMZ that she wasn’t actually sticking iPhones up her vag, but connecting them to a power cable sticking out of her pussy. Sorry, I think it’s just threaded through her fuck flaps. Either way, I have a feeling she won’t be able to return that cable to Best Buy when she realizes she’s $27 short on rent this month.
Wait, so all that trick did was sit there plugging in iPhones to a cord clenched between her cooter lips and called it art? That’s not art! Art would have been shoving an iPhone up her vag, busting out a couple rounds of kegels to make photo collage of her cervix and uploading the picture to Instagram. That’s real talent.
First things first, we need to talk about whoever at Billboard is responsible for that wonderful Usher pun. Usher in a new era. I love you. Your muffin basket is in the mail.
Usher recently spoke to Billboard about the tiny Canadian terror toddler he released into the world (aka Justin Bieber), specifically how their relationship has changed over the years. You see, when Usher first went to Canada to adopt the unruly gerbil, it was more of a big brother/little brother relationship. Usher took Justin under his wing and showed him the ropes. But then Justin turned 12 (or however old he is) and became a little shit, and started doing hoodrat stuff with his friends. Usher says that now that Justin has grown, their relationship is more “man-to-man” now, which has ushered in a new era where he ain’t afraid to whoop a trick if he steps out of line:
“He’s making his own decisions and it’s important to show support. I can say I’m not happy with all the choices my friend has made, but I’m supportive of him. I try my hardest to give as much positive reinforcement as I can. I’ll punch him in the fucking chest when I need to, and give him a hug and kiss when I need to. It’s more than just mentoring. I love the kid.”
I wonder which Justin likes more, getting a hug and kiss or taking one of Usher’s fists? My guess is the hug and the kiss, especially if they come with a lullaby sung through Usher’s beautiful dog whistle voice.
Either way, Usher and Justin’s new relationship sounds like some low-budget Beyond Scared Straight shit, and it kind of reminds me of the time I watched two teenage dirtbags attempt to fight each other at the end of my driveway. They started by blowing each other very aggressive air-kisses, which escalated to staring furiously into each others eyes, which escalated to one hissing “puta!” and poking at the other one’s chest. This went on for about 10 minutes and literally not one punch was thrown. It was so weird. Shit, maybe that was actually Justin and Usher! One did have a patchy little teen ‘stache.
…because DUH, where else is a toddler-faced hoochie supposed to bring it? Just like how Chuck E. Cheese is the place where a kid can be a kid, the red carpet at the VMAs is the place where a sexy fetus can dress in 90s day-shift streetwalker couture and the only thing people will wonder is whether or not her skirt is short enough. You should be dressed slutty enough that someone calls both the vice squad and CPS.
Ariana Grande Latte, the sexy rhythm-deficient singing fetus and Frankie Grande’s less famous sister, did what Ariana Grande Latte do best by by showing up to the VMAs looking like she was ready to turn tricks for Milli Vanilli’s Moonman, then find a no-good Kindergartener named Raiyden to which she can sell the Moonman for a bag of animal crackers and a Capri Sun. The only thing she needs to complete the look is a purse to carry the cellphone Frankie gave her (for when he needs to call her up and prove to people that he’s related to Ariana Grande), and she’s ready to hit the stroll! Click clack, pretend to make that Playskool money, honey! Although I have to deduct points for originality, since Paisley from Toddlers & Tiaras already did it first and, to be quite honest, better. But A+ for execution, no doubt about that.
Here’s more from the VMA red carpet, including JLo (who looked bueno, but also sort of like the Madame Tussauds version of herself), Jessie J wearing an IKEA curtain panel, Iggy Azalea looking like the princess of a far away land called Strippertonia, Charli XCX looking like Marsupilami’s skanky cousin, and a very knocked-up Kelly Rowland in Heidi hair.
After attempting for days to compose a statement that was more eloquent than just “Fuck fuck fuck, I messed up, I should never have released that rotten butt nugget into society”, Usher has finally released a statement regarding those videos of his 15-year-old protege Justin Bieber proudly burping out the n-word and gleefully singing about joining the KKK. “That’s my lil’ million-dollar mistake!” – Pattie Mallette.
Earlier today, Usher posted this picture of himself and a swaggy spoiled pre-teen Cabbage Patch Doll to Instagram along with the following message:
“At my core, I am a person that supports growth and understands without judgement, that growth often comes as a result of pain and continues effort. As I have watched Justin Bieber navigate difficult waters as a young man, I can tell you that he hasn’t always chosen the path of his greatest potential, but he is unequivocally not a racist. What he was 5 years ago was a naive child who did not understand the negative power and degradation that comes from playing with racial slurs. What he is now is a young man faced with an opportunity to become his best self, an example to the millions of kids that follow him to not make the same mistakes.”
I love the subtle shade of that last line. It’s basically a wordy way of saying: “If you don’t stop acting like a little shit, I’ll take away your Razor Scooter and change the wifi password.” Unfortunately for Usher, his infected scrotum piercing of a protege is going to keep fucking up, and unless he’s able to build a time machine and go back to 1994, find the stained couch in a basement in Stratford, Ontario where two teenage dummies are dry humping to “Informer”, and prevent Jeremy’s deadbeat sperm from lazily making its way to Pattie’s Grade F egg, he’s going to have to keep writing apologies.
The pictures of Justin Bieber attending the world premiere of his film Believe last night in L.A. are such a damn mess I don’t even know where to begin. Nearly every single picture raises more questions than it answers. Like why the hell is he wearing jeggings that are from the Misses department when it’s clear Justin is still in Juniors sizes? Does Usher know that hat should have been accessorized with buckle shoes? And the biggest question of them all- did someone tell Justin what poses to do?
“Justin! Over here! Give us the Jaden Smith look. Now turn and re-enact your mop bucket pissing incident. Half ass some rock horns. Think of the douchiest pose you could possibly do with your backup dancers and multiply that by a thousand. Hug your family like this gif doesn’t apply to all of you. Go tag that wall and then run crying to Usher when your wittle hands get dirty. Great!”
Here’s a gallery of Justin and his merry band of enablers. I think my favorite pic is the close up of the tassel flats that James Spader’s character from Pretty In Pink would have worn, but Steff would NOT have been caught dead dressed like a tampon on a light flow day.
I see that unintentional smiley, squint-eyed photo bomb in the background. This is a serious moment! Now is not the time for that shit.
According to People, Usher and Tameka Raymond spent all day in court today to fight for custody of their two sons AGAIN. Tameka called for an emergency custody hearing after her 5-year-old son Usher V almost drowned to death when his hand got stuck in a pool drain. Usher has physical custody of their sons and his aunt is usually the one who takes care of the kids. Tameka, Usher and his Aunt Rena all took turns testifying. Tameka broke down while saying that she doesn’t know if her child suffered permanent brain or heart damage from the accident. Tameka said that Aunt Rena is the main one who takes care of her sons and that Usher just flutters in and out from time to time. Tameka also called Aunt Rena “incompetent” when it comes to taking care of her sons and that Usher barely tells her what’s going on with their boys.
Usher gave a totally different story. DUH. Usher’s lawyer told the court that he’s the Father of the Century basically and their sons are better off with him. Usher said that the pool accident was just that, an accident, and it could’ve happened to anyone. Usher claims that he doesn’t keep their sons away from Tameka. While Tameka said that Usher Cinco is still in the hospital because his heart rate is low, Usher spit on that claim. Usher said that their son is still in the hospital, because he doesn’t want Usher Cinco to go home until the doctors are completely sure he’s healthy and okay.
After all of that, the judge dismissed the case and kept custody with Usher. Surprisingly, Tameka didn’t respond by opening her jaw and swallowing Usher whole. Usher and Tameka hugged and he told her he was sorry. Or maybe he whispered, “You tried it,” into her ear. I don’t know.
So that’s that. Now they can take their asses back to the hospital to be with their son and they can also get somebody to make a giant bubble for Usher V to get into whenever he’s going to go anywhere near a pool.
Usher and Tameka Foster’s 5-year-old son Usher Raymond V almost drowned to death in a pool at his house in Atlanta yesterday when one of his toys got stuck in the drain and he tried to get it out. Usher the Fifth’s arm got lodged in the drain and when his great auntie couldn’t get him out, Usher’s housekeeper tried to get him out and when the housekeeper couldn’t get him out, two subcontractors doing work at the house were able to do it. The subcontractors pulled little Usher out of the pool and one of them gave him CPR. Usher wasn’t home at the time. A rep for the Atlanta Police Department told AP that Usher V was alert and breathing in the ambulance. Usher V is in the hospital and doctors say he’ll be okay. And now his mom Tameka wants custody.
Usher and Tameka went through a long, messy custody battle and he ended up with primary physical custody of their two sons. Usher accused Tameka of being a crazy and going after his then girlfriend. During their custody battle, Tameka’s 11-year-old son (and Usher’s stepson) Kile Glover was declared brain dead after he was hit by a man driving a jet ski. Kile later died.
TMZ says that a quick minute after Usher V almost drowned, Tameka’s lawyers filed papers asking for an emergency custody hearing this week. Tameka thinks that Usher having physical custody is pretty much meaningless since he leaves them in other people’s care all the time. Tameka is also always throwing a side-eye at Usher’s aunt who was looking after Usher V when the kid’s arm got stuck in the drain. Supposedly, Usher’s aunt once let a stalker into the house while the kids were there and gets a little too physical when discipling the kids. And yes, I’m guessing that “little too physical” is code for “not afraid to whoop some ass if they get out of line.”
Tameka currently has some custodial rights, but not much, and wants physical custody now.
Damn. Usher V’s exit papers from the hospital haven’t even been drawn up yet and Tameka is already going after custody. It is that serious and it’s probably going to get even messier between these two. It’s like drama after drama after tragedy after tragedy. If I was them, I’d be paranoid all the time about my kids being near or in water. They’d wear water wings all day, have an oxygen tank strapped to their backs during their waking hours and I wouldn’t even let them drink from a water faucet without a lifeguard standing by.
Justin Bieber was allowed to stay up past mimi times last night to sit on a booster seat on the Late Show stage and talk about serious adult stuff with David Letterman. Letterman asked the beaver equivalent of a Skipper Doll about getting swabbed in the mouth to prove that it’s impossible for him to father a baby since the only liquid he produces is Poof ‘n Puff Perfume.
Bieber told Letterman that the swabbing took all of ten minutes and he got to keep his clothes on the entire time. Letterman said that his eyes have turned red over Mariah Yeater’s claims and the scent of weasel farts have trickled into his nostrils. Bieber responded by saying, “I could smell a weasel too.” Little did Bieber know, that wasn’t the smell of a weasel, that was the smell of a gerbil slathered in Crisco that Uncle Usher brought him to “play” with.
As Justin waits for Mariah Yeater to give up DNA from her baby, he reunited with Uncle Usher on Today this morning where he kissed a Belieber on the hand without a condom on his lips (cut to 9 months later with her holding a Baby Alive on the cover of Life & Style) and gave a wardrobe assistant a Crying Game moment.
Remember yesterday how I said that the crazy bitch who spit up bat shit at Usher for parking in a handicap spot should smoke some a bowl out of a Valium bong while a kitten massages her ear with its purrs to calm her ass down? It’s a good thing I kept a receipt for that comment, because I’m taking it back. Usher deserves to be covered with bat shit and beat with a dozen handicap parking placards for giving birth to the maple syrup-covered anti-Christ who is responsible for this dark-sided drummer boy fuckery (featuring Busta Rhymes).
The drummer boy just stopped drumming and poked his ears out with his sticks. Jesus just put a call in to Maury, because if he can prove that God is not the father, then Christmas is canceled forever and this song can be erased from the planet to never be heard from again. Jesus, let me dial that number for you.
Oh, and here’s another one to bang your head against a wall to. Mimi, you’ll never be forgiven for this.
Usher must not have been told that having an overgrown ego that cripples your sense of reason is not considered by the government as an official handicap, because he parked in a spot he wasn’t supposed to and it triggered a one-woman shit storm of insanity.
TMZ says that minutes after Usher drove his SUV into one of the handicap spots of a parking lot in Atlanta, a bitch went full crazy on his ass by spraying him in the face with a beer as he sat in the driver’s seat. Usher sprayed her back with water, which caused her to start kicking at his SUV. Usher then got out of the car and the mop-headed lunatic went after him while shouting “You don’t belong here!” (Insert obligatory YOU MAD.jpg here.) Shit got so real that Fat Elvis had to eat himself up through the grave and take a bus to Atlanta to tame this bruhaha. Watch and weep:
Justin Bieber was born in Usher’s uterus, so that asshole motherfucker deserves all the whoops he gets, but even I think that crazy in the long-form Dorothy Hamill wig should’ve dialed back the insanity a bit. We’re only allotted a certain number of public nervous breakdowns before the courts drop a CODE 5150 on our heads and this was not worth it. Bitch went crazy like that gold digging Tameka when Usher suggested they should use a condom so she won’t get knocked up with an ATM baby! The reasonable thing to do would’ve been to call a tow truck, slash his tires, fart on his door handle and then write “I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR JUSTIN BIEBER” on his windshield in red paint. That’s how a reasonable person handles shit.
And can somebody let this lady know that Omar Sharif would like a picture with her. You can tell her not to mind the line, Omar likes cutters. While you’re doing that, I’ll start writing Omar’s obit.