We Can All Go Home Now
The Crackhead Leprechaun of Mobile, Tallulah Bankhead, Toni Tennille, Lionel Richie and Nat King Cole are all bright shining stars who all hail from Alabama. Well, add Antoine Dodson to that list! Antoine is now an overnight hero after he stopped an intruder from getting on his sister in the middle of the night.
Antoine wants everyone in Lincoln Park to hide their kids, hide their wives, hide their husbands, and hide their everything, because somebody is snatching people out of their beds. Then Antoine let his sister's attacker know how this story is going to play out. There better be a sequel to this and it better be in IMAX 3D.
And just like that, A STAR IS BORN! You can run and tell that!
(Thanks to all who sent this in)
Tom Hardy, the dude in Inception who some wish would incept their genitals with his lips, tells NOW! Magazine (via Daily Mail) that once upon a time he played with a peen that didn't belong to him. Gentlegays and ladies who like to flick their nipples to man-on-man action, lube up your engines!
When asked if he's ever been with a dude, Tom, who is currently engaged to actress Charlotte Riley (Better known as: THAT BITCH), said:
"As a boy? Of course I have. I'm an actor for fuck's sake. I've played with everything and everyone. I love the form and the physicality, but now that I'm in my thirties, it doesn't do it for me. I'm done experimenting but there's plenty of stuff in a relationship with another man, especially gay men, that I need in my life. A lot of gay men get my thing for shoes. I have definite feminine qualities and a lot of gay men are incredibly masculine.
A lot of people say I seem masculine, but I don't feel it. I feel intrinsically feminine. I'd love to be one of the boys but I always felt a bit on the outside. Maybe my masculine qualities come from overcompensating because I'm not one of the boys."
Tom should watch himself with the "Played with Everything and Everyone" thing, because I'm pretty sure Gerard Butler has already copyrighted that saying for the title of his autobiography.
As much as the committee appreciates Tom's honesty, we're going to need pictures, video and DNA samples before we believe this statement. Sidenote: Don't ask me who or what the hell this so-called committee is, but it sounds like serious business so maybe Tom will give us what we neeeeed. SHHH! Don't tell Tom there's no committee!
And this revelation is brought to you by Tom Hardy in his camwhore days:
Okay, my mom's blind dog Chiquita could've figured this one out right away since even the tiniest glimpse of Rojo Caliente makes your loins feel like somebody blew ancho chile rub all over them. If this is new to you then you probably figured that your genitals are on fire because your weekend of debauchery finally caught up with you in a bad way. You can tell your place holder at the free clinic to get out of the line, because this is just your body's natural way of reacting to the human fireball that is Rojo Caliente! Take note!
In NYC last night, a rainbow gently kissed the sidewalk creating two pots of gold which Rojo and Lady Caliente popped out of. Rojo graced the public with her presence to see Jennifer Coolidge, who is looking like the happiest seasoned call girl in a Reno lounge, at Comix.
Seeing Rojo and Lady Caliente wearing the fuck out of their newest Land's End purchases has pretty much wrapped up and dropped a bow on my day. So if you're a bill collector looking for me to pay up, today is the day to call! Yes, I will still curse you out, but I will tell you to have a Very Rojo Day afterwards!
And now let's all stop, drop and roll!
One the opening night of Clay Gayken and Ruben Studdard's tour in Asheville, North Carolina, they turned up the fuckery to dangerous levels with their medley of all the songs your drunk auntie sways her ass to at weddings.
I mean, This Is How We Do It, Mmmm Bop and I Want It That Way? It's like a copy of Now That's What I Call The 90s crashed into an episode of The Captain & Tennille Show after side-swiping a velvet teddy bear.
And the sight of Gayken grabbing his crotch in Hammer Pants probably brought a Claymate out of menopause.
Don't try to shoot bullets made of dignity at Poultrydise Island's very own Wonder Cutlets, because she will only block them with her powerful plastic cuffs bought on clearance at a Spencer's Gift in the Valley. Any pap trying to run away to photograph a bigger superstar (an impossible mission since one does not exist) will be caught by Wonder Culets' attention catching lasso!
Here's the saffron sprinkled wonder Phoebe Price, who is always sitting in an invisible plane, bringing her signature ho stroll poses to The Gathering of the Nerdaloos (aka Comic Con) in San Diego yesterday.
This is why Lynda Carter was found shuffling along the highway and mumbling to herself about how her life no longer has meaning since Phoebe Price does it better. Carrie Fisher will soon be joining Lynda on What Does It All Mean Lane, because Chicken Cutlets later slipped into a Princess Leia costume.
Mothers of fanboys better hide the frozen cutlets in the garage freezer, because their sons can't wait to tear that shit up when they get back from Comic Con. Chicken Alfredo is what's for dinner!
The Children's Choir of Hades, which masquerades under the name Kidz Bop while performing here on Earth, has conjured up an instant classic with their cover of Xtina's HO SHIT ANTHEM "Not Myself Tonight." Tipper Gore does not need to step in here, because the "fuck yous" have been replaced with "boo hoos". So parents can let the baby prostitots and postnatal pimps in their lives shake their low-rise Pull-Ups to this without feeling an ounce of guilt!
Since these bratlings are singing about how they are not themselves tonight, does that mean they are actually behaving, being polite and not rolling their eyes at you when you tell them that they cannot watch another episode of Waverly Place or whatever shit they are filling their heads with? If that's the case, this can be used as a parenting tool!
If the Last Supper took place in the middle of a Hot Topic and was crashed by a rabid raccoon infected with the Courtney Loves, it would looks just like this video for Pretty Reckless new song. 16-year-old Taylor Momsen ruins a perfectly good meal (and several goblets of the sweet nectar) in the name of manufactured blasphemy while her band mates look like they would rather be getting their asses eaten out by a porcupine puppy. And that click you just heard was Roman Polanski and Mel Gibson simultaneously adding this holy water mess of a video to their favorites.
Here's a few pictures of Taylor taking the walk of shame to the Warped Tour stage in Maryland yesterday afternoon. The yawn on the chick wearing my 1980s summer camp outfit says it all.
The Eiffel Tower will be dark for the rest of the week, because it knows very well that it can never compete with the blazing torch of glorious flames on top of the First Lady of Cameroooooon's perfectly sculpted head! A torch that illuminates the artistic strokes of exquisiteness over her eyes and that burns the jealous looks that come flying at her at all times. The movie Paris is Burning needs to change its title, because this is what setting France on fire really looks like. And this never goes out.
Here's the most gorgeous woman in the world Chantal Biya visiting France on a charity mission to throw some glamour on that drab Carla Bruni. NO! Chantal is there with the other First Ladies of Africa to celebrate Bastille Day. Even though some of the other First Ladies brought their A game with basket weave dresses (Seriously, is that chick in the yellow wearing some a-tisket a-tasket shit?) and peek-a-boo hairlines, Chantal still rules over all of them.
Before Dateline NBC can send in an undercover crustacean with a hidden camera to try and expose Paul the Octopus' psychic secrets, his aquarium has announced that he is officially retiring from predicting shit. Paul is crawling off of his stool and leaving the casino while his record is still perfect.
A spokeswoman from the Sea Life aquarium (or "aqworium" as Sandra Lee says) in Germany says that Paul will not predict another sports game, political election or anything else. Don't ask Paul to confirm if your Magical 8-Ball is right, because he will give you the tentacle. Nostradamus better not try to contact Paul from the dead, because the octopus is simply not interested. The spokeswoman went on to say that Paul will go back to doing what he loves the most: playing with his handlers and entertaining kids.
She also said that the aquarium has received several offers to buy Paul, but he's not for sale.
Okay, yes was one of those offers came from me, but I only want Paul to live in my bath tub so he can tell me who's the stupid saboteur on stupid Big Brother. And then he can tell me who's going to win Top Chef. And Work of Fart. And Design Star. And The Next Food Network Star. And The Bachelorelette. And then Paul can let me know if I'm going to go out from choking on corn dog chips (this will exist in the future) while watching Big Brother 50 or if my brain is simply going to combust from overexposure to reality shit shows.
Sylvia Browne, Miss Cleo and Walter Mercado will all be seen at the back of the unemployment line tomorrow morning, because they know that their services are no longer needed now that Paul the Psychic Octopus has proven that he is our true prolific prophet. Paul correctly predicted the outcome of 8 out of 8 World Cup games! Octo for octo!
As Pulpo Paul predicted on Friday, Spain beat the Netherlands by one point at World Cup today and they are now the proud recipients of a giant golden butt plug. Tommy Girl wants Spain to know that he can break that giant butt plug trophy in if they need him to. SANTO XENU! Or should I say, SANTO PAULO!
Spain's first order of duty as the new champions of the ball should be to gather around Paul's tank in Germany and protect him to their dying day. Paul better not end up on a Red Lobster lunch menu in Berlin or some shit. Paul better get his own psychic hotline as well as his own show on Telemundo.
The best part is that Paul just cockblocked a bunch of Twitter dudes from getting blown by Bibi Eden. Maybe if Paul is feeling charitable and generous, he'll send over some his sexier octopus girls to give those dudes a tentaclejob.
All bow down to our new eight-legged world leader! Viva Paul (he would taste delicious with a little lemon and some olive oil....)!