Ever since a Rappin’ Rockin’ Barbie doll came to life one day and began living as an Australian rapper named Iggy Azalea, there’s been a giant-ass (no pun intended) rumor that the words “Written by Iggy Azalea” are as false as her titties. In the beginning, most fingers were being pointed at Iggy’s mentor T.I., and to a lesser extent, a well-used copy of the PlayStation game PaRappa the Rapper. But now we have another name to add to the list, because a rapper named Skeme recently admitted that he wrote the song “Fancy“. Insert all your ‘Who dat? Who dat? F-A-K-E’ jokes here.
It all happened during an interview with Shade45′s Sway in the Morning during SXSW when Skeme (real name: Lonnie Kimble) was asked about his part-time career as a ghost writer. That’s when it was brought up that he recently ghost wrote a Grammy-nominated song. Skeme wouldn’t name names, so they started prodding him for hints. First they asked him to confirm if it was one of the most popular songs of 2014. Then if it was performed by a woman. Then if that woman is from overseas.
Eventually he was asked if her name rhymes with Wiggy, and I guess that’s when Skeme realized the jig was up, because he coyly admitted that the song was “Fancy” before making the claim that he “had something to do with it”. Skeme, however, did not write the hook; he says that credit belongs to the person who sung it, Charli XCX.
You can watch Skeme out himself as Iggy’s ghost writer below around the 2:27 mark:
Of course, he could be full of shit and lying about “Fancy” to cover up a much more embarrassing ghost writing credit for a much more embarrassing overseas singer, like Ariana Grande Latte (I believe Bratz dolls have a MADE IN TAIWAN stamp on their back). Who even knows. Although I do know we’ll never get the whole truth from Iggy herself; even if she tried to tell us, I doubt we’d able to understand a damn word she was saying.
About two months ago, an ESCANDALO (not really) knocked the wig right off of Beyonce’s head (no, it didn’t) when a 21-year-old “aspiring rapper” named Rymir Satterhwaite claimed in court papers that his mom Wanda and Jay-Z made him when they bareback boned in the early 90s. Like father-in-law, like son-in-law! Rymir wanted his maybe dad to take a paternity test and to also give him a mountain of cash, of course, for emotional damage. Back then, Jay-Z refused to take a paternity test and he’s still refusing to take a paternity test. So sadly for us, it doesn’t seem like Jay-Z and Rymir will go on a very special episode of Maury where this all-natural and non-choreographed moment will be recreated:
Radar, The National Enquirer’s cousin who wears glasses which makes them smarter, says that Jay-Z isn’t about to take a DNA test, but his team is close to handing Rymir a stack of money to go away. Lillie Collie, who hand wrote the lawsuit for Rymir and calls herself his”legal guardian,” tells Radar that the lawsuit will never see the inside of a court room and the dancing dollar signs in her eyes are getting brighter and brighter because she sees a settlement coming:
“Ultimately the case will probably be settled out of court. We’ve been going through this since 2011 and it has gotten to the point where the family just wants it to be over. Nobody wants this to drag out anymore.”
Jay-Z’s people haven’t really said shit about this and haven’t said why he’s refusing to take a DNA test. I don’t know why Jay-Z’s refusing, because if HE IS THE FATHER, then he can invite Rymir over for Thanksgiving and make the kid entertain Basement Baby at the children’s table.
Lillie also told Radar what they’re going to use the money for:
“We need money for the legal fees and Rymir needs money for some medical issues.”
Um, if a settlement is coming and if they ever get that settlement, Rymir should use some of that cash to move far, far away, change his name and get a new face installed on his head, because The Beygency will get him for this. He’ll have some serious medical issues when The Beygency is done with him!
Seen above looking like a dirty Q-Tip used to treat one of Barney’s anal warts, Chris Brown was in his home away from home, the court room, on Friday to hear a judge tell him that he’s free. The judge didn’t get to spit those words out, because he was too busy barfing up laughs over Chris looking like Grimace’s dick head.
Chris Brown was put on 5 years of probation in 2009 after he pleaded guilty to Ike Turnering RiRi the night before the Grammys. On top of 5 years probation, The Difficult Brown also got hit with 1,400 hours of community service and he had to take a year-long domestic violence course. Fist Brown managed to keep his inner throbbing asshole in check for about a year, but it came out in 2010 when he threw a fit in his dressing room at Good Morning America and broke a window. After that, he kept the fuckery coming by allegedly stealing a chick’s iPhone, getting into a club fight with Drake and brawling with Frank Ocean in a parking lot, etc, etc, etc. He also failed a drug test and got in trouble for faking some of his community service hours. His probation was revoked in 2013 when he went crazy on a chick after hitting her car with his. He was driving without a valid license at the time. The judge reinstated his probation a few months later and added 1,000 more community service hours as punishment.
The AP says that after all that, Chris Brown is finally done with probation and won’t have to show his face in court until he fucks up again, which will probably happen this week. Don’t worry, the Los Angeles County Probation Department doesn’t have to lay off its entire staff since they no longer have The Difficult Brown to keep them busy. They still have Lindsay Lohan.
Right after the hearing, Chris Brown burped up this tweet (which was later deleted): “IM OFF PROBATION!!!!!!!! Thank the Lord!!!!!!” To which the Lord tweeted, “Don’t thank me, bitch, I saw that purple hair and voted to keep you on probation for life.”
Even though he’s done with probation, Chris still has a conviction on his record, so Canada can still deny him, but nobody tell him that. We need another feel-good story about Drake cackling after a Mountie stamps “DENIED, EH!” on Chris Brown’s customs form.
WARNING #1: If Sunday is the day you take a whorebbatical and try not to ingest anything fame whore-related, then keep it moving, because this is a Kartrashian post.
WARNING #2: If you haven’t read or seen Gone Girl and you don’t want to be spoiled, take your eyes somewhere else. You know, I shouldn’t have even left that warning, because sometimes nothing makes the tips of my nipples heat up like reading a hate mail from a mad bitch who condemns me to an afterlife as an ingrown hair on Lucifer’s dick shaft for spoiling some TV show or movie.
So, as Scott Disick makes plans to leave rehab in Costa Rica 14 days early because he’s already shot all the scenes needed for the very special “drying out” episode of Krapping on the Kartrashians, a fellow member of The We’ve Been Ruined By The Kartrashians Club pissed all over Kim Kartrashian and not in the way that she likes. Rob Kardashian (or as Pimp Mama Kris calls him “Who?”) unfollowed his entire family on Instagram today and threw up that picture of a blood-covered Amy from Gone Girl with this little note. What a close and loving family:
This is my sister kim , the bitch from Gone Girl,,,
Let’s see, one is a psychotic, scheming, dead-hearted manipulative bitch minion from HELL who only cares about herself and the other is Amy from Gone Girl.
Rob could be joking or PMK could’ve hacked into his account because she’s trying to make her STUNT quota for the week. Whatever the case may be, I don’t really get the comparison. If Amy was covered in yellow liquids in that picture, then I’d get it. Sure, they’re both crazy and heartless, but Kim makes Amy likable by comparison and Amy has something that Kim doesn’t have: a working brain. Kim’s brain stopped working when she made her in-house plastic surgeon Botox the wrinkles out. A wrinkly brain is just gross!
Knowing this mess of a family, that Instagram post is probably a paid sponsored ad to promote Gone Girl on DVD.
And here’s The Slow One and Khlozilla hosting different parties in Las Vegas yesterday.
TV writer Adi Adler wrote an advice book called How To Fuck A Woman and surprisingly the entire book doesn’t read like this:
How To Fuck A Woman:
Be John Stamos.
It doesn’t say that anywhere in the book, but John Stamos, the sitcom sex god of the 80s and 90s and yogurt pusher, does serve up some advice, because being John Stamos has allowed him to fuck a lot of women. According to Page Six, John writes in the book that to him, a woman’s body is like a piano or accordion or some shit. When she makes the right sound, he knows he’s hitting the right keys. When she makes the wrong sound, he knows it’s obviously a problem with her since he’s the Chopin of fucking and never makes a wrong note:
“It’s about listening, asking, talking . . . I guess I do approach sex in a musical way. With me, it’s more rhythm than melody with a woman . . . but it’s all listening . . . With women, you have to listen to their bodies.”
The good thing about John Stamos listening to your body is that if your stomach is grumbling, he can soothe it with the Oikios yogurt he shoots out of his peen. Yes, he cums the stuff.
John also writes about how some of his fuck partners have asked for a little souvenir to remind them of the greatest moment of their lives.
“A couple of women have wanted ‘selfies’ afterwards. One girl really wanted my shirt, like a souvenir.”
You’d think John’s pieces wouldn’t need a souvenir, because they’d shellack their chocha and never let anything touch it again. But John Stamos is being really modest. Only a couple of women have asked him for selfies? Please, more like ALL OF THEM have asked him for a selfie. In the suggestion box next to his bed, the #1 request is probably for a roller coaster camera above his bed. Right when they’re about to bust out the big O, the camera will take their picture. Right before they’re about to do the walk of pride the next morning, they’ll stop in front of a screen next to John’s bedroom door to see the picture. They’ll have the option to get the picture on a mug, poster, t-shirt and/or mouse pad. Every one of his pieces will buy all the options, of course.
And if a piece has asked John Stamos for a selfie while he’s awake, imagine what she’s done while he’s asleep? There’s probably a few crazy messes out there wearing a barrette made out of John Stamos’ pubes.
This is the world we live in now. A trick can’t happily get pissed on while wearing lady chonies without worrying about the pisser spilling his fetishes to The National Enquirer for a quick check. Somebody needs to add “Do Not Piss and Tell” under “Do Not Kiss and Tell” in the Ho Code.
According to the bastion of truthfulness called The National Enquirer, Michael Phelps would win more gold medals if golden showers was an Olympic sport. Actually, that’s not totally true. He’d be lucky to win silver if Kim Kartrashian competed. Anyway, a Craigslist dominatrix claims that in February 2013, Poseidon’s son contacted her after seeing her ad and agreed to give her a $900 “donation” to come over to his NYC hotel room with a fully loaded bladder. Yup, apparently, he’s really into water sports.
Just hours after Robert Durst was arrested in New Orleans for the 15-year-old murder of his friend Susan Berman, the final episode of HBO’s The Jinx aired and in it, the Maenad shark showed criminals what not to do if they’ve already gotten away with a whole bunch of evil shit and want to continue to get away with it. Don’t be an attention whore and open your evil self up to a documentary.
In the finale, the documentary’s director and producer Andrew Jarecki interviewed Robert Durst and confronted him about a new piece of evidence against his ass in the case of Susan Berman’s murder. After Susan Berman was murdered in her home execution-style, someone anonymously sent the police a note with her address and the word “cadaver” on it. The fucker who sent the letter spelled “Beverly” as “Beverley.” While researching Robert Durst and Susan Berman’s murder, the filmmakers of The Jinx found a letter he mailed to her and on the envelope, “Beverly” was spelled “Beverley.” The filmmakers got a forensic document analyzer to look at both notes. The expert declared that yup, the handwriting came from the same trick. When Andrew showed the evidence to Robert Durst, he admitted that the handwriting looked the same and he couldn’t point out which was written by him. It’s impossible to know what Robert Durst is thinking since his demon shark eyes are emotionless and dead, but if you could, you’d clearly see him thinking to himself, “OH SHIT!”
It’s times like these when I was that Big Lots sold holy water wipes, because everyone’s screen needs to be cleansed after being touched by that dark-sided picture of that unholy shark demon!
Robert Durst, the creepy ass real estate heir and subject of HBO’s highly addictive and riveting-as-fuck documentary series The Jinx (which sadly isn’t about the life and times of Jinkx Monsoon), was put into handcuffs at his hotel in New Orleans late last night after Los Angeles County issued a warrant for his arrest. Robert Durst checked into the hotel under a false name using a fake ID. He paid with cash. He is being held without bail and will be shipped off to L.A. to face first-degree murder charges. Robert Durst’s attorney Chip Lewis tells The Washington Post that he has been charged with murder and he won’t fight extradition to California. His creepy face will show itself at an extradition hearing in New Orleans tomorrow morning.
The L.A. Times reports that sources tell them that the worst Durst (which is saying a lot, because we’re living in a world where Fred Durst exists) was arrested in connection with the murder of his friend Susan Berman. The murder of Susan Berman, who was the daughter of an old-timey mobster, was covered in The Jinx. On Christmas Eve 2000, police found Susan’s body in her house in L.A. She had been shot in the head once. Many believe that Robert Durst killed Susan Berman because she knew a lot of shit about his wife’s disappearance. He has always denied killing Susan.
Last month, Swedish mountain sex god Alexander Skarsgard was seen “getting cozy” in NYC with Alexa Chung who is best known for doing I don’t even know what. They went to some Fashion Week event together and had breakfast the next morning where they ate “avocado toast.” I know, you probably want to know more about this avocado toast. Anyway, it’s been almost 30 days and they might still be a thing. Ever since ASkars broke up with unflavored oatmeal lollipop Kate Bosworth, he’s been jumping from skinny poon to skinny poon. So if he has been bumping sex parts with Alexa since February, their relationship could be his longest in YEARS.
Page Six says that on Tuesday night in Paris, ASkars and Alexa “got cozy” once again at a restaurant called Caviar Kaspia. The source said they held hands!
The pretty pair were seen very cozily holding hands at Caviar Kaspia in Paris during fashion week there Tuesday night.
They were dining with a group of fashionable pals including Poppy Delevingne, sister of Cara, and Derek Blasberg.
Hmmm… Is the source sure about that? I mean, fashion people actually eating at a restaurant during Fashion Week? Wouldn’t food mess with their ability to make a scowly bitchface while sitting front row at shows? I thought that face came from being HONGRAY. But there is picture proof of Alexa and ASkars being in Paris together. A pap took this picture of them leaving a train station in Paris on Tuesday. It gives me “Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Martin’s First Picture Together!!!” vibes.
That picture also showed me what it looks like when a one-night trick and I leave his building together in the morning. You know, I walk in front thinking about how I can’t wait to go to McDonald’s to get me a post-one-night-stand power breakfast and he makes sure to stay far back with his hands in his pockets as he thinks to himself, “Doo da doo don’t know that bitch doo da doo doo.“
And a year from now, Nona Gaye will work the hell out of that pink coat while sashaying out of Chanel with armfuls of bags and she’ll stop for a minute to drop a quarter into a Styrofoam cup held up by a homeless Pharrell Williams who went broke from losing copyright lawsuit after copyright lawsuit.
Marvin Gaye’s family will soon be $7.3 million richer after a jury in L.A. ruled that Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke basically took “Got To Give It Up,” dipped it in dirty toilet water, changed the lyrics and renamed it “Blurred Lines.” Robin Thicke’s lawyer Howard E. King told reporters that they plan to appeal and do everything they can to make sure that the verdict doesn’t stand. Because of this ruling and the Tom Petty/Sam Smith settlement, Howard said that shit is going to get dangerous and if this is the way the law is going to go, anybody who creates anything better watch their asses.
Howard said that yes, Pharrell has admitted that Marvin Gaye is one of his idols and inspirations, but “Blurred Lines” and “Got To Give It Up” are two completely different songs. Marvin Gaye’s family, of course, doesn’t agree and they might not be done with Pharrell. Nona Gaye told CBS News that there’s a chance her family will go after Pharrell’s #1 song “Happy” next. Nona and Marvin Gaye’s ex-wife Janis believe that “Happy” and “Ain’t That Peculiar” sound like twins. FYI: “Ain’t That Peculiar” wasn’t even written by Marvin Gaye.
“I’m not going to lie. I do think they sound alike,” Nona Gaye, Marvin’s 40-year-old daughter, said. However, she added that she wasn’t thinking about the legal implications right now. “We’re not in that space.”
“We’re just in the moment today and we’re satisfied,” Janis added.
FYI: “Ain’t That Peculiar” wasn’t even written by Marvin Gaye.
The Gaye family are out for the smooth rat’s blood and are going to suck him dry. They won’t be satisfied until they got Pharrell singing, “Because I’m brokeeeeee.” Pharrell is going to liquidate all his assets, clear out his accounts and hide all his money in a place no one will dare or want to go (example: like under a pile of Robin Thicke’s last album “Paula.”) Then he’s going to escape to a far away island where he’ll sell denim capris to tourists on the beach.
You probably already know what “Happy” sounds like since it’s been stuck in your brain for over a year, so I’m not going to post it here. But below is Marvin Gaye’s “Ain’t That Peculiar” for you to compare. Click here to hear the mash-up of the two songs.