Don’t you have to actually do something to take a break from it? NO! That’s mean! Kristen Stewart is an excellent actress. I’ve never seen a performer with such a broad emotional range: bored, sullen, mopey, melancholy, bored, tired. Sometimes The Perpetual Apathetic Shrug Machine looks like she’s not acting by showing no emotion at all! She’s THAT good. She’s so good, she’s told USA Today (via Us Weekly) that she’s decided to take a break and let other actors have a chance at all the sullen teenager parts in Hollywood so she can focus on her true calling: ART!
“I’m taking some time off because I’ve been working for two years. I’m an actor and that’s my art form, and because I started that so young, I’ve always felt intimidated and insufficient when I think about other forms of art I want to create.”
“I’m going to take so much time off. I’m going to buy a live-work space in downtown L.A. and I’m going to make some [stuff] with my hands. Literally, I made that decision a few weeks ago. I’m making a short film. I’m making a bunch of stuff. I don’t know how I’ll put it out. But I’m not going to hold it so preciously close to me. I write all the time.”
Oh, we’ve read the kind of poetry you’ve been writing, KStew, and it’s a goddamn REVELATION. I sincerely hope she finds a way to merge some spoken word into her art, because the art world truly needs more eloquent emo teen WTF-ery like “One honest day up on this freedom pole“. Ooh, maybe she’ll sculpt an actual freedom pole? And if I know anything about art (and I do, since I spent 4 years of my life in art school), then that pole will be a giant dick. When in doubt, make it a dick! Dicks are ~deep~.
But I’m a little concerned for Hollywood. What will they do now that the human grimace is temporarily retired? I don’t think there’s anyone grumpy enough to fill in for KStew, besides Grumpy Cat (and that pussy is already being worked harder than a Kardashian at an NBA event). Kristen’s first art piece should be a mopey-looking wooden sculpture of herself that she can rent out to studios to fill in for her. It will be like she never left!
Because she’s currently an edgy 13-year-old in 1996 who lives for The Craft, Katy Perry did like any rebellious Ouija-obsessed pentagram-wearing teen girl would do and snuck off to Salem during a trip to Boston this weekend. According to People, Katy participated in the Salem Witch Walk, visited the witch museum, and stopped by Salem’s oldest witch store, Crow Haven Corner, where they performed a witchcraft “love ritual” for her (I guess because her magic love rocks stopped working).
Crow Haven Corner didn’t elaborate on what was involved in their “love magic”, but I’m hoping they made sure all of the newt eyes and frog foreskins they used were 100% vinegar-free to avoid attracting any more douchebags. Not that it would matter; unless those three witches (who sort of look like the Chicos-wearing wine-drinking suburban mom version of The Sanderson Sisters) have the power to break the spell on Katy’s cursed pussy, she’ll still keep finding sleazy losers to make poor fuck choices with.
And I really hope that hot cream-colored chihuahua in the bow tie participated in the love ritual, even if he looks like doesn’t want anything to do with this mess. I know a shade-laced doggy side-eye when I see it! It looks like he’s thinking to himself “It’s too bad they didn’t have time to cast a live singing spell.” NO! Katy Perry has a beautiful live singing voice that doesn’t sound at all like an out-of-breath stray cat howling into an empty tuna can. If anything, those witches should be begging Katy for some of her gorgeous voice so they can resell it to tone-deaf angels and down-on-their-luck mermaids.
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.
Watch out, Jennifer “So So Rill” Lawrence! There’s someone younger (errr…) and hungrier (definitely hungrier) coming for your ass down the Staircase of Realness and it’s Jesus’s high school dropout coke-dealer brother from Brooklyn, Jared Leto.
During his acceptance speech at the Oscars last Sunday, Jared Leto made sure to throw in a 30 Seconds to Mars reference to remind us that he may look like an actor on the outside, but on the inside he’s still a 15-year-old emo teen who totally hates his mom’s new boyfriend Darryl even though, yeah, whatever, he gave him a ride to Hot Topic last weekend. And because he’s like, totally chill and whatever, HuffPo says that he’s already fucked up his Academy Award. Oh man, so much realness:
“I was letting some of the people that I work with take a picture with the Oscar and I was carrying it down the stairs and, boom, I hit it against the stairs, the railing and I put a little nick in the back of it. So, you know, that’s how it goes. It’s already lived in, as they say.”
“Cause like, whatever, it’s just a stupid trophy, you know? Like, the real trophy is not letting society tell you how to live your life. I’m totally going to draw an anarchy symbol on in black eyeliner.”
Here’s more of Jared keeping it real at a Paris fashion show in one of your Mom’s favourite Target scarfs. And just for fun, let’s play a game called Spot The Parasitic Leech. I’ve hidden a picture that includes Terry Richardson somewhere below; see if you can find it! You’ll know you’re getting warmer when you feel like your soul is being molested.
Anti-dog racism activist Miley Cyrus twatted out this picture yesterday of her contagion tongue touching the tongue of model Cara Delvingne, because 45 seconds went by without her getting any attention, so she asked herself, “What would RiRi do?” RiRi would throw up a picture of her touching tongues with some chick and she’d gayelle it all the way up by adding a rainbow, so that’s exactly what her white girl understudy Miley Cyrus did. Right after this picture was taken, Miley and Cara laughed at their edginess and they laughed some more until Cara’s face turned green, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, foam spilled out of her mouth and an extra thick layer of bubbling yeast covered her tongue. Three men in masks from the health department ran in, covered Cara with plastic and dragged her off to a quarantine island with the other sick whores who made the mistake of touching Miley’s toxic gunk tongue. So that picture is an actually a PSA for the dangers of touching tongues with Miley Vyrus.
And in other Miley news, The New York Times interviewed her, because it’s a slow week and more relevant celebrities like Richard Simmons and Charo already turned them down. Here’s a few of the dingles that spilled out of her mouth and it’s a natural reaction to say “Bitch, you so edgy,” after every single one of her answers.
On if people saying she’s appropriating black cultural by having all-black dancers (among other things) has changed her personal thoughts about race: “My grandma, who is alive, was living in a time where there was no way in hell that she would’ve ever thought there would’ve been a black president. I mean, never. And my grandma’s like, not even 80, so this is in a short period of time that things have changed so much. I really thought about it a lot when Nelson Mandela passed away, because I couldn’t even imagine living this life and seeing how much it’s changed. So, you know, I look forward to when I’m older, my kids being like, “What do you mean people ever even talked about what color your dancers were?”
On how she doesn’t understand why some hos don’t want the world to see their tits: “You don’t have to be signed to Disney Channel to be put in a box, or to be rated PG. I’m with artists sometimes, and I’ll take a picture of them or whatever. They make me delete it. Yeah, it’s insane. I’ll get someone to, like, flash me, and they’ll be, like, ‘You have to delete it!’ I had to do that when I was 14 or 15, but even then I didn’t care. Like, if someone was videoing me ripping a bong, I didn’t care, so it’s just funny to me. I’m like: ‘Dude, you’re 30. Like, why can’t someone see a picture of your [breasts]?’”
On how she’s so edgy that if you just stand next to her, your edginess goes up ten million percent: “I don’t have a bunch of celeb friends, because I feel like some of them are a little scared of the association. This is terrible. I was backstage with Ariana Grande. I’m like, ‘Walk out with me right now and get this picture, and this will be the best thing that happens to you, because just you associating with me makes you a little less sweet.’”
On Joe Jonas saying that she and Demi Lovato introduced him to the good shit: “If you want to smoke weed, you’re going to smoke weed. There’s nothing that two little girls are going to get you to do that you don’t want to do. I thought maybe he was saying that like it was going to make him look badass.”
On how her thoughts are way too mature and complex for a 17-year-old to understand: “Right now, me doing any kind of cover for anything that’s like, a Seventeen or Teen Vogue or whatever, the way that I talk isn’t the way that people that are 17 really understand. There was a thing that Kurt Cobain said, something like, ‘There’s a special place in hell for people that glamorize drugs,’ and I never want to be that person that’s, like, talking to 16- and 17-year-olds and being like, ‘Smoke weed.’ I’ve got a little sister. I don’t want her to smoke weed, and it’s not because I think weed is bad, but — —”
The good news is that you probably didn’t read past the second question, because your brain melted and seeped out of your eye sockets.
And here’s Cara on the quarantine island after they had to amputate her tongue:
Since Jennifer Aniston’s fiancé is a Ducati-riding badass bitch who uses motorcycle grease to slide his legs into a pair of XS wax-coated black jeggings and makes his manicurist put authentic dirt under his fingernails so he looks extra hard, she has to keep up with his butter knife edginess. And she is!
Jennifer’s makeup artist friend Gucci Westman (that sounds like the name of a shelved character from Beverly Hills Teens, or like the name of a white Pomeranian) Instagrammed a picture of their matching cartilage studs yesterday. Jennifer got a 1990s mall piercing after she took a machete to her hair because Keratin ate the life out of her locks. (A cold shiver of fear just crawled up the spine of the reigning Keratin Kween Justin Timberlake. JT should really cover Billy Ocean’s “Caribbean Queen” and change the lyrics to “Keratin Kween.”)
After Jen and Gucci used forged letters from their parents to get their ears pierced, they listened to the Soul Asylum album at a listening station at Tower, tried to get free samples from the Clinique counter, stole a midriff turtleneck top from Contempo Casuals and while they were waiting for their moms to pick them up in the front of the mall, they did each other nails with Street Wear nail polish. But Jennifer’s boyfriend Justin Theroux showed up on his bike before her mom did and he gave her a ride home. Gucci was so fucking jealous.
The most shocking part is that this mess of an outfit isn’t on RiRi’s body. This is something Adina Howard would’ve worn in the 90s if she was auditioning to be a Fly Girl and Adina would’ve worn it better.
The oh-so-edgy and oh-so-urban Miley Cyrus wore the ugly bastard child of sweats and jeans to the MySpace relaunch party in Hollywood last night. You know, I’m all for interpants fucking, but the only reason for those ugly ass pants to exist is to show you that it’s possible to barf chunks out through your eye holes. Those pants don’t even make sense and bitch is totally disrespecting her legs. The right leg wants to lounge on a futon while Hot Fries crumbs fall on it during a Say Yes to the Dress marathon. The left leg wants to shake it to a Color Me Badd song at a junior high school dance in 1992. The right leg wants to do something totally different from the left leg. Bitch is confusing her legs and tearing them apart!
It’s like the left leg is possessed by the spirit of Katie Holmes circa 2008 and the right leg is possessed by the spirit of KFed circa now. That mess is not the look and even Jekyll and Hyde wouldn’t wear that shit. I hope her legs hate her for this.
Kanye West once again out Kanye’d himself last night by debuting his new song “New Slaves” and visuals for his new song in sixty six spots in several cities across the world. At different times during the night, Kanye’s big ass face was projected on a building as he rapped (and sang, ugh) his new song. The video above is from the corner of N.7th and Bedford in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and his face also made appearances in Hollywood, Toronto, Sydney, London, Berlin, Miami, Chicago, Paris, San Francisco and on Kim Kardashian’s body. Kanye’s website has a map with all the places where this mess played.
I can just imagine sitting on my sofa, eating some caramel cookie ice cream and taking sips of my ghetto sangria (Two-And-Half-Buck Chuck and orange Shasta) while watching Flea Market Flip when Kanye’s face and shower singing voice starts haunting my walls. That is a real good reason to call a damn exorcist. How can a trick have a relaxing Friday night when Kanye’s singing voice is filling their apartment? When Kanye sings, he sounds like he’s getting a prostate exam from a porcupine while Pimp Mama Kris gnaws on his nuts.
On a positive note, Kanye really knows how to dramatically debut a song like a true debutante queen.
Well, at least Kim Kartrashian isn’t the only one who Kanye covers in thirty layers of fuckery. Kanye does it to himself too. During his show at Revel in Atlantic City last night, Kanye West wore two Maison Martin Margiela masks: a rhinestone one that made him look like Liberace as a dom top and a feather one that made him look like Yeti sperm. I’m guessing that Khloe Kardashian wasn’t in the audience, because if she was, she would’ve charged the stage, tackled Kanye took the ground, sunk her teeth into the back of his neck and dragged him up into her lair in the hills to mate with him while the other Yetis howled around them.
Kanye’s rhinestone mask IS the look, but that feather mask is very “owl with a mullet wearing its communion suit” or “preacher eagle.” Below is a clip from Rolling Stone of Kanye performing while looking like a bunch of doves crashed into his face (homage to Fabio?) . Why isn’t anybody in the audience throwing bird seed at Kanye’s ass?
This is what it looks like when doves cum all over Kanye’s face. But seriously, I need to stop the hate. Seeing Kanye with a face full of feathers and a face full of rhinestones is much better than seeing Kanye’s bare face. So what I’m saying is that bitch has never looked hotter.
What’s the matter, guys? You both look like you either smelled a rancid Taco Bell fart or just realized who the fuck you are married to. Yes, you could attibute those looks to some less than stellar moves they just saw on the floor at the Clippers vs. Nuggets game, but I like my version better. If I had to put up with any of that klan for two seconds (except for Khloe, I know, and I hate myself for it), I would have permanent fml bitch face too.
Bruce and Kris Jenner‘s Shrinky Dink faces and several of the Ks showed up for the game yesterday and Bruce had to give his front row seat up for Kanye West because Kim threatened to smother him with her ass if he didn’t. No, you know he gave that shit up willingly to get the hell away from Kris for a minute and I don’t blame him.
So here are some pics of them with a little joy and more side-eyeing, glaring and indifference than what we all see at our family get togethers. I wonder who the drunk one was? (Spoiler: it was Kris.)