Obama's #1 stan and the sole reason why he won last night joined Instagram and she quickly turned it into her own version of an Angelfire fan page for him. Beyonce posed in a t-shirt from her upcoming House of Dereon: Obama Couture collection and wrote a very special note to all the Mitches out there on a striped silk sheet using a platinum pen full of liquefied sapphire ink. No, that's not lined paper and she didn't use a marker. Like Beyonce would really touch a blue Sharpie. She's Beyonce!
And why in the hell is she wearing vampire fangs? Did Nan Flanagan rise from the dead again and win the American Vampire League seat?
Billy Ray Cyrus is about to throw all of his fresh-out-of-prison cousins, sewed-off rifles, coonhounds and knives made out of possum claws into the back of his pick-up truck and drive it all the way Atlanta so he can handle Liam Hemsworth for hurting his daughter's hillbilly heart. Because Radar says that at a party in Hollywood last week, Liam was "canoodling" and whispering into the ear of some hot blonde. Miley Cyrus wasn't around.
The witness says that Liam showed up to the party early and spent most of the night talking to the hot blonde in the back of the tent. Maybe Liam just wanted to remind himself what it's like to talk to a chick who doesn't sound like Harvey Fierstein hawking a loogie. The witness type said this:
“Liam was in the corner of the back tent with a blonde and they were getting very cozy. It definitely looked like they were behaving in a way that was more than just friendly. His friend/handler was trying to keep people away and allow Liam and his 'friend' some privacy, but Liam didn’t seem to be that worried about it.”
Wait, wait... A hot blonde who makes grown men giggle themselves into a coma? That wasn't Liam's lady side piece. That was his brother THOR!
That dumb bitch of an eyewitness! I bet the eyewitness also said that when the hot blonde flipped her mane, every light bulb burst and she sort of smelt like Strawberry Suave shampoo. Yeah, it was THOR, not some average slut. Pull your cousins out of the pick-up, Billy Ray. It was a false cheater alarm.
Right after Lindsay Lohan forcibly butt fucked an 18-wheeler with her rented Porsche, she told the cops that she wasn't driving. Everything that comes out of LiLo's lie hole is the opposite of the truth, so nobody was surprised when witnesses said that she was the one driving and she switched places with her assistant right after the crash. TMZ says that since LiLo told lies to the police, the Santa Monica City Attorney will charge her with misdemeanor lie-telling.
TMZ's sources say that cops also found a bottle of prescribed meds in her purse and there were pills scattered all over her trunk. They were going to throw drug charges at her, but then her long-suffering attorney Shawn Holley handed the police a letter from LiLo's doctor. Yes, the "letter" was written in red lipstick on a stained Chateau Marmont cocktail napkin and was signed by "Dr. Anid Nahol," but under California State Law it still counts as an official doctor's note.
You've heard this all before, but this could screw with LiLo's probation and Judge Stephanie could throw in her a cell for a very long time for violating probation. But the chances of that happening are about as slim as me shitting out a 9 inch dick. (Actually, that could happen. I have been told by many doctors that my b-hole is like a sock-eating dryer.)
I live in California now, so don't I get a say as to how the state spends its money and time, because spending it on LiLo is a waste. Nothing's gonna happen to the bitch. Besides, LiLo is terrorizing NYC right now. Does California really want to lure her back? The monster is gone and we need to keep it that way. Close the gates and really keep her out by making all alcohol ILLEGAL. Yes, I'll be willing to make my own booze out of paint thinner and lemon-scented ammonia if it means I get to live in a Lohan-free zone. That's the price you have to pay.
Here's the darling of the California justice system leaving her NYC hotel with Ali Lohan last night. Now we know what it would look like if Angie Dickinson died, came back as a zombie and then fell into a vat of orange paint.
Ryan Reynolds' was People Magazine's Sexiest Man of 2010, Bradley Cooper took 2011 and apparently they're keeping with the theme of "bland-ish white dudes" by giving Channing Tatum the title this year. Gossip Cop says that next week, Bradley Cooper will put a tiara on Channing Tatum's head when he's named the Sexiest Man Alive (aka The Client Whose Publicist Traded The Most Promised Exclusives For This Fake Title) by People Magazine! I know, the only time the words "Sexiest" and "Channing" should be the on the cover of a magazine is if Carol Channing is named The Sexiest Human Who Ever Lived.
People refused to comment on this rumor.
You know, I am into necks that are thicker than a $40 ham lying in a freezer bin at a grocery store, but I was never into Channing Tatum. I never understood why hos were into him either until I went to see Magic Mike with a bunch of girls. One girl said that Channing Tatum is like that hottest dude in high school who always ignored you and never said one word to you. Then years later when you're home for Christmas, you run into him at the bar at T.G.I. Friday's and he's drinking alone. He's bloated, rougher in the face and you hit it and quit it just so you can say you did. So I totally get it now.
Still, Jon Hamm should've gotten the title. Jon's Hammaconda has been campaigning for that shit all year long! But whatever, I don't need People to tell me who the Sexiest Man Alive is when I already know it will forever be Richard Simmons. The proof is in the pucker.
Who knew that all this time Kristie "Third Wheel" Alley has been waiting in the wings, wishing for the day when John Travolta would finally shave Kelly Preston off of his face and pick her as his new beard. On tonight's 20/20 (via Radar), Kirstie tells Barbara Walters that contrary to popular belief, Krispy Kreme isn't the true love of her life, John Travolta is.
Kirstie says that she fell seriously in love with John while shooting the first Look Who's Talking movie and she never tried to beard him, because she was married at the time to Parker Stevenson. Kirstie says that she wanted to leave Parker and run away with John, but she resisted the urge. In between shooting the second Look Who's Talking movie and the third one, John married his lifelong beard Kelly Preston. Kirstie still considers John the love of her life, but she's happy to be his main fruit fly and cherishes all the time they spend together (aka having a kiki in the Scientology bath house.)
Poor Kirstie. Why isn't Kirstie the one on People Magazine talking about her "miracle baby"? Why isn't Kirstie the one giving John choreographed kisses on the red carpet? Why isn't Kirstie the one holding hands with John in staged photo-ops? Why is it that bitch Kelly Preston? Why didn't John choose her? Oh, Kirstie, always the fag hag, never the beard.
I don't mean to disrespect Kelly Preston's bearding skills, because she is a world-class beard, but Kirstie Alley would've been better. Kirstie would've gladly and loudly lied to everyone about how she gets it on with John all the time and he really knows how to work that dick on her cooch like a real heterosexual. Kirstie would've laid it on extra thick during staged public displays of affection on the red carpet. And every time John came home crying because another massage therapist ran away from his hungry, hungry b-hole, Kirstie would've made him feel better by making him a big pot of cake batter soup with cookie dough bits in it. Then Kirstie would've put on Auntie Mame and let John recite all of Rosalind Russell's lines. She'd gladly take Vera's lines. That's a beard to the end right there. Oh well, it's John Travolta's loss!
Earlier, I linked to this story from InTouch about how West Coast mess turned East Coast mess Amanda Bynes was walking around the main area of Beach Bum Tanning in NYC with nothing but her crazy showing. Bitch was all the way naked. Everyone who was there now knows if the hair on her ass lips is blond, dirt blond or doody blond. Everyone who was there now knows if she's got silver dolla nipples or quarter nipples. They know Amanda like that. I didn't think anything of it, because for a crazy who spent 2 hours in a dressing room and locked herself in a cupcake shop bathroom for 30 minutes, pulling some Lady Godiva Gone Crazy shit in the middle of a tanning salon didn't seem that bizarre to me. But Amanda tells UsWeekly that InTouch must be downing the same crazy pills she is, because she was never naked in a tanning salon. Multi-millionaire retirees don't do that!
"I'm suing In Touch for printing a fake story. I'm not 'troubled.' I don't get naked in public. I'm 26, a multi-millionaire, retired. Please respect my privacy."
That is the line of the day and we should all use it every chance we get. No, I'm not 26, I'm not a multi-millionaire and I'm not retired (although I do sit around in my underwear all day and constantly yell at everybody, so that can be argued), but I'm still going to use that line. The next time my credit card company calls and asks why I haven't paid my bill in 3 months, I'll just say, "I'm 26, a multi-millionaire, retired. Please respect my privacy." That'll stop them.
And I believe Amanda. Amanda wasn't naked. Amanda was wearing an invisible cloak that she created with her MIND. Multi-millionaire retirees have those kind of powers.
Heidi Klum should've canceled her annual Halloween party the day she traded in Seal's peen for the help's peen, but she still made plans to go on with it and had her team of full-time costume elves make her an elaborate as all hell Cleopatra costume. But Heidi will probably never wear that Cleopatra costume at one of her Halloween parties, because she has pressed the pause button that on shit. Since it's kind of hard to have a party in NYC without electricity, a dance floor that's not underwater and people who could give a shit, Heidi announced that her Halloween party is canceled and she might do a haunted Christmas thing in December instead. Well, at least this gives Heidi more time to fornicate with the help (Seal's words not mine). Heidi tweeted the news and also gave it to ET:
"I hope you & your loved ones are safe after this devastating storm in the New York City area. For obvious reasons, I am canceling my Halloween party scheduled for tomorrow night. I hope to postpone for the near future... maybe a very Haunted Christmas? I hope everyone understands and stays safe."
Can't we just cancel Halloween altogether? I know I'm almost an official ho of Los Angeles again... I say "almost," because I've only completed two out of three initiation rituals. I've bought naranjas by the freeway and I've gotten into my first road rage situation by flipping off and screaming at a dumb bitch in a white Fiat for taking my parking space at Trader Joe's. But I've yet to complain about how cold it is when it's 75 degrees outside, so I'm not official. But anyway, even though I'm almost an official ho of Los Angeles, I still can't get into Halloween when I know that the NYC subways aren't open. One of my favorite things to do during Slutoween times is to ride the subway at the end of the night and watch drunk messes in smeared make-up eat a taco while trying to keep their slutty costume from exposing their nips to everyone. That's Halloween to me. So see you next year, Halloween!
Justin Timberlake and Jessica Timberlake (she took his last name since Shakira's baby took her last name) are on their honeymoon right now, but he took a little time away from snorkeling all up in her ass to release a bunch of "I'm Sowwy" balloons for that video his douche hole of a friend made as a gift. Justin's friend Justin Huchel made a video of homeless people, crackheads and street people apologizing to Justin and Jessica for not being able to make it to their $6.5 million pre-divorce ceremony in Italy. Justin posted an open letter on his website (via THR) where he says that the video didn't play at his wedding, he had nothing to do with it and he thinks it's as tacky as you think it is. Justin would never EVER make fun of those less fortunate than him. Justin's heart is full of love for those less fortunate and he constantly does what he can to help them. I mean, Justin did marry Jessica Biel and that sort of counts as granting a Make-A-Wish wish. Right?
If you really want to read a lot of words and kilt jokes written by Justin and his team of publicists, get it after the cut. GO!
Conor Kennedy Just Wasn't Ready For Love, Marriage, Babies And Waking Up To Heart-Shaped Pancakes Every Morning
iPhones lit up in homeroom and some students had to be pulled out of class for peer counseling (Side note: I was a peer counselor in junior high school, but I only did it so I could pull my chola friend and her boyfriend out of class and let them make-out behind the gym bathrooms while I drew pictures of cats on my notebook. FOREVER ALONE.) yesterday when everybody learned that Taylor Swift was not going to be queen at the Winter Formal this year, because she broke up with Conor Kennedy. Tears fell on a hundred paper bag book covers (that should be the title of a song). Radar says that Taylor and Conor's love didn't end because she realized that being with a dude for more than 2 months is bad for business. It ended, because the crazy bitch is seriously Kennedy-ized.
Some source says that Conor Kennedy is just a typical 18-year-old kid who's desperately, madly, crazy in love as long as his peen is hard. Then when it goes soft, he's back to being bored and wants to play Bad Piggies on his phone while lying on the big sofa in the family rec room. But Taylor is ready for marriage and ready for babies and wants all of those babies to have the last name Kennedy:
"Taylor is obsessed with the Kennedys and was living out a fairytale with Conor. But she was more obsessed with the idea of dating a Kennedy, than the actual Kennedy she was dating. Taylor is love crazy and loves living vicariously through other people's love stories. She sincerely wants to find the person that she is supposed to spend the rest of her life with. But unfortunately, she thinks every man that gives her butterflies is that person."
That last part. Does the source mean that figuratively or literally, because it makes sense both ways. But even though Conor has already gotten over Taylor by making out with the school slut Crystal (they're ALWAYS named Crystal), she's not giving up her Kennedy dreams and is not ready to assassinate Conor in a song just yet. TMZ says that Taylor is still planning to buy her perfect Kennedy Stalking Palace across the street from Ethel Kennedy's house.
Oh, Taylor. Didn't anyone tell her that you shouldn't settle down with a dude who says, "Can you go a little faster, I have pre-cal in 20 minutes," while you're giving him a good morning hand job.
Bobby Brown was arrested on March 26, 2012 for being a drunk driving mess, and so he celebrated the 7 month anniversary of his last DUI a little early by getting another DUI this morning. HAPPY SEMI-ANNUAL DUI, Bobby B!
TMZ says that around 1 this morning in L.A., police noticed that Bobby Brown's car was swerving and sliding all over the street. Bitch's car was doing the Every Little Step dance. They pulled Bobby over and when the police walked up to his window, they knew what it felt like to toss White Oprah's salad as she lets out a fart. The inside of Bobby's car smelled like sad desperation wrapped in a cloud of whiskey fumes and Pall Mall smoke.
Bobby agreed to do a sobriety test and he got an F. Bobby became one with a pair of handcuffs, was taken to the station and posed for his 500th mug shot. Bobby hasn't bailed out yet.
See, here's a good reason for why Bobby should try to build a strong and trusting relationship with his daughter Bobbi Kristina. Bobbi Kristina is supposedly sober right now and what stupid Bobby really needs is a designated driver who will drive him around while he gets boozed all the way up in the passenger seat. If I ever have kids, I'm going to try to be as nice to them as possible, but only because in 20 years I don't want them to hang up on my face when I call them to pick my drunk ass up from the bar.