I need to turn in my Silver Fox Club membership card, because it’s embarrassing and shameful that my eyes (and other parts) weren’t glued to the TV screen when he talked about gay sex for one split second on Watch What Happens Live earlier this week. This is the biggest crime I’ve ever committed. I can forgive myself for playing Kum Kuntrashian’s iPhone game for 10 minutes (no, I can’t), but I cannot forgive myself for this.
So on Watch What Happens Live on Tuesday night, the Silver Fox, Andy Cohen and their hag Kelly Ripa spilled “secrets” about themselves during a game to see which one of them could make the other uncomfortable first. Kelly started first by asking America’s most serious journalist Andy Coo if his dick wears a turtleneck and if he wants to see her vagina. The Silver Fox didn’t answer Kelly’s question about whether or not his dick is circumcised, but in my professional opinion (and using the information I learned from all the times I put a magnifying glass to his crotch on pictures), the evidence is inconclusive and I’ll have to see it or feel it up close to give my final verdict.
When it came time for the Silver Fox to spill a secret about Andy Cohen, he spilled a secret that isn’t a secret to anyone who has seen Andy on Wendy Williams or listened to him on Howard Stern. The Silver Fox said that contrary to that picture above, Andy Cohen is not a loud, squealing, messy bossy bottom who can cut a beer can in two with his b-hole. Andy Cohen is all top. This revelation courtesy of Queerty:
Anderson: “I know a lot of secrets about Andy. I guess the one that would most surprise people is he’s a top.”
Andy: “Why, you think people think I’m a bottom?”
Kelly: “I don’t.”
Anderson: “Believe me, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m just saying I think that would surprise people. And I don’t know this from personal experience, but from conversations I have had…I mean, it surprised me when I heard about it. Yeah, so that’s the secret.”
Kelly: “Why is that a secret? I don’t think that’s a secret. For people who don’t know, at home, do you want to explain what that is? I am a talk show host. I have to get to the answers.”
Andy: “No, I don’t want to.”
Kelly: “Are you sure?”
I’m glad that Anderson answered my next question by saying, “I don’t know this from personal experience,” because I really did not need the image of Andy Cohen topping Anderson Cooper while Anderson licks on Kelly Ripa’s fully erect belly peen. The Silver Fox didn’t answer the “top, bottom or both” question himself, but I guess him saying “Believe me, there’s nothing wrong with that” clears that up. And yes, yes, I still would. I’d still bump butts with the Silver Fox.
Even though she looks like a cross between Tina Fey and Mrs. Brisby (wait, I think those two might cancel each other out…uh…give me a second while I think of another pretty brunette and a lady mouse) Anna Kendrick has admitted to Glamour (via E! News) that every time she looks in the mirror, she sees the repulsive gooey face of a sewer-dwellingh C.H.U.D. staring back at her (I’m guessing). But she’s okay with that, because waking up every morning looking like ScarJo would drive her to eating handfuls of Xanax:
“The thing is, my appearance—that’s never been my moneymaker. I’m fine being small. I’m fine being all the things I am. And I’m happy I’m not supposed to be on the 50 Most Beautiful list all the time, because that would be super fucking stressful. Sometimes I just want to wear the same outfit for three days in a row. And I kind of can’t.”
Anna Kendrick shouldn’t care about not making the cut, because those Most Beautiful list are usually bullshit. They’re always ignoring the true beauties. When’s the last time you saw a list that included Bruce Jenner, Stephanie Yellowhair, La Toya Jackson, Courtney Stodden, or Angelyne? Exactly. Those lists are nothing but a popularity contest for basic bitches. Don’t worry about it.
And where does it say you’re not allowed to wear the same outfit for three days in a row?!? I’ve literally been wearing a t-shirt that I got for free by mailing in two Froot Loops box tops for a whole week, and the only person complaining is Toucan Sam (“Follow your nose, bitch – it’s time to do the laundry”).
We already know RiRi’s stance on Instagram nipple censorship, but what everyone really wanted to know is her stance on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and for one brief second on Twitter she shared it (or did she?).
RiRi pulled a stage 4 Dwight Howard today when for one brief second the hashtag #FREEPALESTINE was on her Twitter page until her PR people called a MAN DOWN CODE 10 situation and immediately yanked it down. But just like that depressing, gross feeling that a trick feels after sucking Charlie Sheen’s dick, nothing really goes away on the Internet and her tweet had already been screen capped and passed around. Everybody was bracing themselves for RiRi to scream that she was hacked, but instead she spit out an even more ridiculous excuse that’s made of bullshit and pure BITCH, PLEASE.
A source (Hi, RiRi’s publicist) tells TMZ that she didn’t mean to tweet support for Palestine at all. The source says that RiRi was reading about the Gaza conflict online when she clicked a link that must’ve tweeted this out to her 36 million followers:
Those pro-Palestine bots hiding in links on CNN will get your every time. RiRi claims that she didn’t even know about the tweet until her followers started pointing it out. She hit the delete button. The source says that RiRi isn’t pro-Palestine or pro-Israel. She’s “pro-peace” and doesn’t want “innocent people dying.”
So RiRi tweeted something for controversy and then deleted it so she’d get more attention while not having to stand up for shit. Got it. Now that we got that out of the way and know that RiRi is just pro-attention, she can go back to tweeting about nipples and weed and maybe she can address some questions I really need the answers to. My questions are:
1. Does Drake really like getting his ass eaten? (Answer: Doesn’t everybody?)
2. Does Drake’s ass taste like maple syrup and yellow Starburst?
3. When you were eating Drake’s ass and his legs started to shake, did the vibrations ricochet off of your satellite dish forehead creating a sonic boom that busted out all the windows?
I know, blogging about the conflict in Gaza and Drake getting his salad tossed in the same post. For where is my Putlizer?!?
Pic: Pacific Coast News
First, Jessica Simpson changes her last name to Jessica Johnson (which is a little weird since I’m pretty sure John Mayer named his johnson “Jessica“) and now Cheryl Cole has taken the last name of her stranger husband and Katie Price is “thinking” about taking the last name of the estranged husband that supposedly boned her best friend while his baby is growing in her womb. It’s name changing day! Let’s all change our last names, and I would play along and change my name to Michael K Cooper of Wales, but I’m pretty sure the restraining orders stop me from doing so.
Cheryl Cole continued to be the British poster ho for “Bitch, what are you doing?” when she married the French playboy she knew for a grand total of 3 months. Cheryl Cole made Jean-Bernard Fernandez-Versini her second husband a week ago and just like she did with her first husband, Ashley Cole, she’s taken his last name. Cheryl Cole’s spokeswhore tells The Daily Mail that she’s now Cheryl Fernandez-Versini and she’s probably under a tattoo artist’s needle to change the chav-tastic Mrs. C tattoo on her neck. Cheryl truly keeps finding ways to prove that dickmatization is a real thing. Dick so good it’s got a ho changing her last name after three months. Even though I like the name Cheryl Fernandez-Versini since it sounds like the name of the least popular afternoon local news anchor in the Miami area or like the name of the worst character in a Jackie Collins novel, Cheryl needs to stop with this shit. Is she really going to change her name every time she marries a new dude? Bitch is going to have more last names than the Duchess of Alba by the time she’s 40. Cheryl should just legally change her name to [Insert My Latest Husband's Last Name Here]. It’s simpler and involves less paperwork.
And now onto that other British rose petal who is known for making only the best decisions…
Katie Price was on Fubar Radio and in between talking about how assholes are like vaginas in disguise and how one of her ex-husbands (see: Alex Reid) loves screwing “lady boys,” she said that she’s thinking about taking her cheating whore of a husband Kieran Hayler’s last name. This is a wonderful decision since Katie is supposedly going to divorce Keiran for passing his peen to her best friend.
“I’d love to have the surname but obviously for work it’s Price. Yes, I would do it, with Kieran he’d have to prove himself first before I actually have the name. I’m quite old fashioned, I just want to be in love, have that fairytale, be that perfect wife, have their name, still have your own career because I think that’s important that you’re not in and out of each other’s pockets and stuff.”
Yes, Katie Price is just an old-fashioned kind of girl who probably leaked her that video of her getting toe fucked and most likely staged this whole cheating SCANDAL for maximum attention and is now trying to shamelessly steal the name changing spotlight from Jessica Johnson and Cheryl Tweedy Cole Fernandez-Versini! And if she thinks it’s important that she and her husband not always be in each other’s pockets, why is she pissed that he gotten into somebody else’s pocket?
Here’s Katie Price Andre Reid Hayler arriving and leaving Fubar Radio with Princess YTuMamaTambien.
Noted lying enthusiast Lindsay Lohan isn’t exactly in the position to be writing checks her ass can’t cash (literally, bitch is the human definition of non-sufficient funds) and yet she’s gone ahead and made the bold claim to BBC News that she won’t miss a single rehearsal or performance of the London revival of Speed-the-Plow. You hear that, Speed-the-Plow producers? Go ahead and return the mangy orange tabby you adopted from the SPCA, because the Apricot Ashtray don’t need no understudy!
But asked if she would be penalised for missing shows or rehearsals in London, she told the BBC: “That’s not going to happen.”
“That’s not on the cards. It’s not. I’m at a place in my life where I like the commitment. I’m looking forward to that part of it.”
The only thing LiLo likes more than bailing on responsibilities is swindling people out of cash, so I have no doubt that crafty ashtray will find a way to get her freckled ass to work. Every day at 4pm, her assistant will call 1-800-GOT-JUNK and tell them that a 120lb pile of orange trash needs to be removed from Lindsay’s hotel room and taken to The Playhouse theatre. Then a group of London rats will carry a passed-out LiLo into her dressing room, where she’ll wait for the director to find her with a note pinned to her shirt that reads: “I’m here! Pay up, bitches.” Remember, she didn’t promise she’d do a good job, just that she wasn’t going to miss a show. That sneaky loophole-finding LiLo.
Lindsay also warned BBC News that she is planning on moving to London because people see her as a ~serious~ actress there:
“For a long time, people looked at me as kind of a celebrity, which is something I never wanted. That’s not what I got into this industry for…People kind of forgot that, and I think now is a good time. And what better than to do it with the great people that I’m working with on stage in London…so that people can focus on the fact that I’m in this industry because I’m an actress and an artist and not just someone you take photos of?”
Yeah right. She’s probably moving to London because she saw an episode of Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings and wants to find out where she can get her hands on the super-powerful shit that lets him talk to pictures.
Here’s more of LiLo in London having brunch (aka breakfast cocktails) with her friends on Saturday morning. Damn, even when she cleans up, she still looks rough. I feel like Oliver and the rest of his Dickensian street urchin pals would be like “Oh shit, you touched LiLo? Go wash your hands.”
St. Angie Jolie Threatens To Sue The Daily Mail Over A 15-Year-Old Video Of Her “Strung Out On Heroin”
St. Angie Jolie is joining George Clooney behind the handball court on the playground where they’ll both wait for The Daily Mail to walk on by so they can jump that bitch’s ass for talking shit about them. This week, The National Enquirer published stills from a 15-year-old video of a BS (before sainthood) Angelina Jolie looking like a malnourished, drowned, beat down subway rat while talking on the phone in her NYC apartment. The National Enquirer claimed that Angie Jo was “strung out” on heroin and coke and was pacing around her “drug den.” The Daily Mail posted the story and the video, and now St. Angie is reportedly coming after them for doing so. St. Angie is probably going after The Daily Mail instead of the Enquirer, because it’s easier to sue for crap like that in the UK and now that she’s a Dame she can ask THE QUEEN to destroy The Daily Mail and feed them to her Corgis.
Former NYC drug dealer Franklin Meyer sold the video to the Enquirer and he claims he shot it during one of his many visits to her apartment. Franklin says he delivered heroin and coke to her apartment three times a week and sometimes he’d watch her snort it up. During one drop off, Franklin filmed her having a riveting conversation about thrilling topics like mortgages with her dad Jon Voight. Everyone knows that before St. Angie put together her child army and became the God that God looks to for inspiration, she loved the bad shit and regularly chased the tail of a dragon. So even if the video showed her injecting heroin into her ass lips, it would still be as shocking as a newly surfaced video of Kim Kardashian lazily sucking a black dick. But the boring video is nothing but a jacked up St. Angie pacing back and forth while having a boring conversation with her dad.
Even though the video is nothing and not really worth suing over, St. Angie is thinking about getting her lawyers to throw a lawsuit at The Daily Mail. That’s what the Times of London claims anyway. via HuffPo UK:
Angelina Jolie has reportedly begun legal action against the Daily Mail for publishing a video it claims showed her while she was addicted to heroin in the 1990s.
The newspaper suggested the footage, taken from the National Enquirer, featured a conversation between Jolie and her father Jon Voight about her brother James and late mother Marcheline Bertrand.
The Times writes Jolie is believed to regard the publication of the video as a gross violation of her privacy.
In case you missed it and care, here’s the video of a Sun-In-haired Angie in her sleazy drug den, which looks a million times nicer than most of the NYC apartments I lived in.
At first I thought that maybe St. Angie Jolie has a case, because The Daily Mail said she was strung out on heroin in the video and yes she’s got heroin hair, eyes and arms, but there’s no concrete proof. But then I got to the 1:34 mark in the video and found their concrete proof. St. Angie was obviously strung out on heroin and others kind of bad shit when this video was filmed, because nobody in their right mind would ignore a movie starring Winnie Cooper and Jonathan Brandis!
And I forgot how big cordless phones were back then. I’m surprised I never used a cordless phone antenna as a starter dildo.
Seen above asking his trophy if she’ll please blow him before jacuzzi (SPOILER ALERT: She shook her head no) while receiving some lifetime achievement award at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in the Czech Republic over the weekend, the grilled wart burned off of a Jew-hating warthog’s taint says that he’s no longer the raging ass balloon he was years ago and he’s all mea culpa’d out and is done mea culpa’ing. Mel Gibson’s “the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world” rant was dug out of the archives when noted Mad Mel apologist Gary Oldman talked about it during that messy interview with Playboy where he said that Mel was only blacklisted from Hollywood for that Anti-Semitic mouth fart because the Jews run Hollywood. The Hollywood Reporter asked Mad Mel about Sirius Black defending him and the glum cunt pretty much rolled his eyes at the question being brought up again and probably looked at the reporter like, “Blow me before I burn your house down, Sugar Tits.” But Mad Mel didn’t rage and said that he’s totally changed and he’s already shat up ALL the apologies and he’s got no more apologies to shit up.
It’s behind me; it’s an 8-year-old story. It keeps coming up like a rerun, but I’ve dealt with it and I’ve dealt with it responsibly and I’ve worked on myself for anything I am culpable for. All the necessary mea culpas have been made copious times, so for this question to keep coming up, it’s kind of like … I’m sorry they feel that way, but I’ve done what I need to do.
And when Variety told Mel that Gary called him a “good guy” he called Gary a “good guy.” Basically, those two good guys should blow each other and take their gross love fest to the jacuzzi.
These things happen. As we all know… I have nothing much to say. The guy was probably just… He’s a good guy. He’s fantastic. I know him. He’s a good dude…
The thing that bothered me about Gary’s whole “defense of Mad Mel” thing is that Gary said that Mel’s crazy ass “anti-Jew” drunken rant from 2006 is what pushed his career into a grave. That didn’t totally kill his career. It didn’t help, but when Mad Mel spit out all that shit, the “Golden Age” of his career had already slid into the “Diarrhea Age” of his career and he was farting out flops. So even though he got on his knees and blew a stream of “sowwies” into Hollywood’s asshole, it didn’t really matter. Hollywood can forgive an asshole piece of shit (see: the list is too long to list), but they can’t forgive a ho who isn’t bringing in that money.
Mad Mel might think that he’s set the Guinness World Record for apologies since he’s apologized a million times for all the racist shit he’s said, but he can still apologize some more. Mad Mel can apologize for The Singing Detective and The Beaver and he can apologize to his face for broiling it until it looked like Sean Penn’s nutsack.
“We all co-sign that.” – the world
Many mothers would jump out of their coochies and freak out if they were about to become George Clooney’s mother-in-law, because they’d get to party in Lake Como, do bong hits with Brad Pitt and suck tequila shots off of Rande Gerber’s tit. But Amal Alamuddin’s mom Baria Alamuddin isn’t excited and thinks her successful human-rights lawyer daughter is marrying down by getting with Booker from Roseanne. Whenever Baria sees George Clooney, she makes the same disgusted “Look at the low-class trash my kid dragged in” face that a boyfriend’s mother throws at me when I meet her for the first time.
A source tells The Daily Mail that it’s not really about George Clooney being George Clooney. Amal is a born and raised Druze and her family is really respected in the Druze community. Baria really wants her daughter to marry a Lebanese Druze man instead of a Catholic trick from Kentucky. Druze aren’t supposed to marry non-Druze, so when Amal breaks the planet by marrying George Clooney sometime this Fall, she’ll be kicked out of her religion. The source said this:
“You would think Amal has hit the jackpot with George Clooney, but Baria is not happy. She thinks Amal can do better. She has been telling half of Beirut, in fact anyone that will listen, there are five hundred thousand Druze. Are none of them good enough for her?”
The Mail (where I get all my religious information from) also says that the Druze people are so serious about their own marrying outside of their religion that if a Druze marries a non-Druze, they will spit on that ho and cut them off the same way I’ll cut off one of my family members if I catch them genuinely enjoying an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians while sober. Last year, the male relatives of a Druze woman chopped off the dick of the non-Druze man she married and Amal’s family joked that the same thing is going to happen to George.
“There have a been a few jokes in the family about the same thing happening to George!”
Since Amal is dating one of the most seasoned man sluts in Hollywood, she’s as much of a Druze as I am a Catholic. But really, it would be truly tragic if Amal’s family Christ Bear’d George Clooney at the wedding, because then he’d really, really have a hard time making the kids he doesn’t want. Wait a minute, I see George’s grand plan now!
Basement Baby did an interview with Lucky Magazine where she talked about fashion (Who cares!) and her music (Who cares: the sequel!), and barely said anything about the only reason why Lucky gave her the cover. Lucky was probably wishing that they’d get a juicy quote out of Basement Baby, but she honored the Illuminati oath of silence she had to sign if she didn’t want her allowance cut in half. Basement Baby didn’t say that she proudly beat that camel and PETA can come at her. Basement Baby only said that her family is all good and I’m taking that to mean that Tina Knowles moved the children’s table, where BB sits during holiday dinners, to another room so she wouldn’t get the urge to throw a knife at Jay-Z when he looks at her funny.
The day we’re talking in the park is two weeks after TMZ published a leaked elevator video of Knowles getting into an altercation with brother-in-law Jay Z the night of the Met ball at the Standard Hotel. It’s a subject she expects in conversation but one she doesn’t want to focus on. She calls the incident “that thing.” “What’s important is that my family and I are all good,” she says. “What we had to say collectively was in the statement that we put out, and we all feel at peace with that.”
Well, that cleared up EVERYTHING!
I get it, Basement Baby’s daddy taught her well. Why would she spit out the story of that elevator beat down to a magazine for free when she can use it in the future to sell the tell-all she’ll have to write after Beyonce really cuts off her allowance for drop-kicking Jay-Z again at a family reunion. Or Basement Baby’s waiting until Lifetime wants to buy the story from her so they can turn it into a movie starring a Furby in a wig as Beyonce, a Joe Camel stuffed toy as Jay-Z, Orlando Jones as Basement Baby and Bobbi Kristina’s gap as the elevator.
BRB, I need to check to see that there are still laws against cannibalism. Listening to Coldplay usually makes me want to kill myself, and I want to make sure the next time “Fix You” starts playing in the grocery store, I don’t have to be worried that Chris Martin is lurking around the spice aisle with a napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt and licking his chops.
Gwyneth Paltrow’s former hourly organic porpoise facial oil spritzer appeared on Radio 2 to promote what will surely be Prince William’s favorite new album, Ghost Stories. Chris Martin confessed that after Gwyneth demanded he hand over his set of keys to the servant’s backdoor entrance to Castle Goopskull in exchange for the return of his balls, one of the life changes he made was to ditch his vegetarian diet:
“I am not really vegetarian. I eat meat. I was vegetarian for a long time but, for various reasons, I changed. I’d only eat something that I think I could kill. I’d kill a fish. Not a giraffe.”
“For various reasons” – ie. He was sick of sucking on raw strips of coconut bark and imported galangal roots for however many years he was married to The Water Whisperer and he would have cut off his own beautiful angel curls (his source of basic boy bitch power) for a stale Wendy’s JBC.
And I hope Gwyneth doesn’t share the same philosophy as Chris, otherwise every animal on the planet is totally fucked. Do you know how little it would take for Gwyneth to smug us to death? No hunting rifles, no crossbows; just a GOOP.com article about exclusive $1900 apres-bath sheets hand-woven from French cumulus clouds served with an extra-large side of insufferable delusion and self-worth, and it would be like the comet that wiped out the dinosaurs.