If your eyeballs haven't turned into stone balls from staring deep into Sarah Jessica Parker's crotch ("I haven't even stared at the Crotch of Sauron" - Matthew Broderick), then slow clap for her Iggy Pop-looking ass, because she took the night's theme of "punk" and galloped away with it. She looks like vomit and diarrhea from a punk sprayed against a velvet plaid sofa and that headpiece looks like a fancy horse's idea of a mohawk. Spartacus just wants to hop on her back and together they'll lead the slave uprising against the Roman Republic! Bitch went hard, looks a wreck and I love it.
And here's pictures just 1/100th of the bitches who showed up to the Met Gala tonight and completely pulled an opposite SJP by ignoring the theme. In order: Kate Upton (didn't try), Jennifer Lawrence (didn't try), Gavin Rossdale (semi-tried), Gwen Stefani (probably tried but gave up and threw napkins on her bod instead), Carey Mulligan (didn't try), JLo (didn't try, should've been escorted to the exit), Kristen Stewart (semi-tried, because looking like an embroidered used tampon is sort of punk rock), Katy Perry (um, did any of these hos know what the theme was?) and the Queen of the Death Eaters.
It really isn't a Hollywood event until Sharon Stone shows up looking like she just skinned an animal alive before throwing its pelt onto her shoulders. Where was Goopy's stylist with a pube-shaving razor, because Sharon's jacket looks like a Kardashian merkin. How dreadful. And I can almost hear her feet crying out in humiliation from wearing those ugly ass peep-toe booties. While I appreciate it when a ho shows up looking like a wicked witch dominatrix at a funeral, the only way this look would've worked is if Sharon turned into a murder of crows at the end of the night.
The only time it's okay to wear an outfit like this is if you're about to pull out Kristen Stewart's stoner heart in your medieval lair or you're about to terrorize a bunch of Dalmatian puppies. That orange eyeshadow too... Did Sharon Stone really want her eyes to look like two sore b-holes in need of some Prep H?
With all that being said, Sharon was still the hottest messy bitch there, because everybody else showed up wearing boring rejected dresses from awards season. In order after Cruella de Stone: Rebel Wilson, Sofia Vergara, Hayden Pantyairs, Nicole Kidman, Barbra Streisand's tits with James Brolin and Donna Karan, Kerry Washington, Psy, Julie Bowen, Claire Danes with Hugh Dancy, some Duck Dynasty people,
Anne Burrell Patricia Arquette, Katy Perry, Kate Mara, Natalie Dormer, the matron of the Death Eaters, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Gerard Butler with Piers Morgan.
Who knew that Doogie Howser was a gusher? If your eyes woke up this morning with a craving for a picture of Neil Patrick Harris and Sandra Bullock making terrifying O faces as a geyser of slimy goo shoots into the air, here you go, you sucio perv.
Usually when Kristen Stewart's hands are covered in slime, it's because she ran them through her hair. But yesterday, KStew got covered in Slimer's butt drool after she hugged Sandra Bullock and Neil Patrick Harris while accepting her award for Favorite Movie Actress at the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards in L.A. Yeah, the kids chose her as their favorite movie actress. This is why kids should never get a vote. And the Earth tipped a little to the side yesterday, because KStew gave her usual bitchface the day off and actually cracked a few smiles during the show. Nickelodeon must have stuffed the bongs in her dressing room with some serious good shit. Either that or that green's slime got some THC in it.
Here's a few more pictures from yesterday's KCAs. In order: Sandra Bullock, KStew and NPH (looking like Goop's colonic machine exploded all over them), Katy Perry, Selena Gomez, a greasy and knocked up Fergie Ferg, Ke$hit channeling Dumb and Dumber with her brother, a domesticated Sasquatch, Dog Chapman with Beth Chapman and the Smith kids.
Just when the Centers for Disease Control thought it was safe to give their employees a long vacation for Easter, this happens! John Mayer's David Duke Dick is once again out there infecting poon after poon, because he's no longer bumping nipples with Katy Perry full-time...for now. I know, the fact that Katy Perry didn't slap him back and forth when he showed up to the Grammys looking like the creepy owner of
a chocolate factory an STD Factory tells me that they were meant for each other, but I guess not.
Katy Perry and John Mayer started dating last summer, but they broke up for a month before getting back together again. Some source tells UsWeekly that they're done with each other, but it might not totally be the end.
"It's sad. It's not over until it's over. You have to see how things play out. She's leaving the window open. They have both been so focused on work."
Katy probably only left the window open, because she's trying to air his stank out. And I hope this means that John Mayer will go back to Taylor Swift and dump her right after. Because Taylor Swift's ass is most entertaining when she's bitching about a heartless whore slut John Mayer is.
It's nice to see that the Grammys still aren't about recognizing the best talent in music (see: Carly Rae Jepsen's nomination) and still all about what's really important: TITTY BALLS! While giving us her best Priscilla Presley circa 1969 cosplay, Katy Perry also gave us chichis for days and Ellen Degeneres just couldn't help getting all up in there with her eyeballs as a butchified Portia de Rossi laughed next to her. If you stare at that picture long enough, you can almost see Ellen's eyeballs pop out of their sockets like a cartoon cat. Ellen is either motorboating with her eyes or she can't believe that certified douche bag John Mayer, who was wearing one of Willy Wonka's old suits, gets suffocate himself in Katy Perry's magnificent chichis every single night.
And yeah, when Ellen Degeneres humps Katy's titties with her eyes, everybody laughs and calls her a comedic genius. But if a straight dude did it, he'd get a punch to the eye and a restraining order. So if you see Gerard Butler and Mel Gibson trolling around with a tiny blond wig on their heads, a fitted blazer on their bodies and a Home Depot card stuck in their pockets, you know what they're up to.
Santa Claus is not amused. That Tweet should have cancelled Christmas. Katy Perry brought John Mayer home for the holidays to meet her parents. That's no gift. I'd rather have rabies in my stocking. He looks like he has hasn't seen the inside of a shower for five days. She should swap out the whipped cream shooters in her tits for shower gel ones and hose his skank ass down!
The New York Daily News (via People) sez that Mayer really wanted to meet Katy's parents. No one wants to meet anyone's parents. That's some bullshiz. Especially this mealy-mouthed fuckface. Meeting your piece's parents for the first time is ponderous. You can't get drunk, you can't curse, you have to act like you don't hate everything. For a whole weekend? AND ON CHRISTMAS? Bitch, I am 5 White Russians in by 2 pm on Christmas and ready to leap over the coffee table at my brother during the Yankee Swap to fistfight for a TJ Maxx gift card. Hello, it's Christmas! No one wants insincere douche under the tree.
"They're happy together and with her family for the holidays," a source told the celebrity magazine. "John really likes getting to know Katy's family better. They've spent a lot of time together and really enjoy each other's company."
He's totally the guy who gets shitfaced on Christmas Eve night, stays up after Katy goes to bed, and hits on her Moms. "Mrs. Hudson, I can totally see where Katy got her looks. Yes, I'm very interested in the Bible. Is it ok if I take off my pants and get comfortable while we talk about Jesus? " Ugh, and he probably brought his guitar. I'd smash an ornament and cut my wrists with the shards.
And what's with her and the slippery-looking types? That last one. You could wring out his hair to fill the fryolater. Be kinder to yourself, Annoying Rainbow Brite.
Every now and again, ageless flower Jennifer Tilly has to remind everyone that Christina Hendricks isn't the only demure beauty in Hollywood who can suffocate and push up her titty globes so that it looks like she's smuggling Right Said Fred in her dress. At The Dream Foundation Gala in Santa Barbara, CA on Friday night, Jennifer put her glorious butt cheek chichis on display. Yes, I get seriously hypnotized by a pair of magnificent chichis, but I'm gay, so my eyes still wandered down to her shoes and Jennifer's shoes are a new kind of fugly.
One of my friends from junior high school invited me over to his grandma's house after school one day and the first thing she said to me when I walked through her front door was, "Don't go in my 'nice' living room." I didn't go in, but I looked in. Grandma watched Anna Karenina way too many times, because her nice living room looked like a low-budget Trading Spaces room inspired by baroque-era Russia. I have never seen so much gold spray paint and so many plastic roses in my life and that's saying a lot, because I've been inside of many Catholic churches in East L.A. Grandma's room put the BA-ROKE in baroque. Jennifer Tilly's feet look like grandma's fancy living room barfed on them.
Even though Jennifer Tilly's shoes look two baroque dingles, I can't hate on them fully. Because I'm sure that every time Jennifer took a step in those hideous heels, her chichis bounced slightly and it looked like two clouds blowing in the wind. Those heels are ugly, but they still served the greater good.
Here's more of Tilly titty's at the Dream Foundation Gala. Katy Perry and the Plastic Vampiress of Graceland were also there.
When the piece who you were married to for five whole seconds shows up at the same Lakers game as you, let him know all the wonderful goodness his CDC enemy #1 dick is missing out on by miming a hot, sloppy hand job (or maybe she's a miming a hot, sloppy beej, which explains why her mouth isn't opened that wide). Katy Perry should've really made this totally realistic by wearing the same safety goggles she wore every time she got down to get Russell off. A trick has to protect her eyes from falling crabs.
Katy and her really hot dad, who is always serving up some Uncle Fester as a biker bartender realness, went to the Lakers vs. Mavericks game at the Staples Center in L.A. and sat near her ex-husband Russell Brand who was there with two boys. Katy proved to Russell that she's happy by acting really, really, really happy. Bitch put on a real "SEE! I'm happier without you because I'm laughing REALLY hard" show. If John Mayer was there with her, all the black people would have to get up and leave, because she would've really shown Russell that she's moved on by canoodling with John's David Duke Dick out in the open. I wish John Mayer was there. A piece of human tampon lint (who's always dressed like the douche bag character in an Archie comic) getting into a slap fight with a human Fem-V pantyliner (who's always dressed like a Thunderdome go-go dancer) would've made for the perfect Halloween time show.
Seen here looking like a sad couple leaving the free clinic after learning some devastating news (the devastating news being that she's knocked up, because even they know a MayKat baby is not what humanity needs EVER), Katy Perry and John Mayer left a restaurant in NYC last night. While Mitt Romney was quickly losing the highly important and coveted Trapper Keeper vote, Katy and John were out celebrating the 35th anniversary of the day David Duke's used butt enema fertilized a pine cone tampon and made John Mayer.
For his very special day, John Mayer dressed up as a half-assed Canadian groomsman and used globs of pussy lube to style his hair like a douche bag cockatoo who thinks he's the shit. Dude's douche hair matches his smug face.
And all morning hate aside, that picture above is sort of sweet. I mean, obviously there's a non-whitey standing in front of them, so Katy is covering the one eye on John Mayer's white power peen, because it doesn't want to see that. That's real love.
"PUPPIES! JUST GIVE ME PUPPIES!!!" was the #1 search term on YouTube yesterday, because hos needed to cleanse their brains after reading the story about how actor type Johnny Lewis (Half-Sack from Sons of Anarchy) viciously murdered his 81-year-old landlady, beat two men with a 2x4 and brutally dismembered a cat before falling to his death. If this crazy and fucked up story had opening credits, the opening credits would end with the words "And Special Guest Star XENU!"
TMZ says that Johnny's father, Michael Lewis, is a bridge queen of Scientology and he reached the church's highest level by winning 2 out of 3 dance-offs against John Travolta and by beating the video game Destroy All Humans! 2 without using cheats. Johnny, seen above with his ex-piece Katy Perry in 2006, was addicted to the bad shit in a bad way and so his father put him in Scientology's drug abuse program Narconon. Johnny managed to temporarily kick his craving for DRUGS!!!, because Scientology threatened to make him watch Battlefield Earth while completely sober if he even thought about touching an 8-ball. The Narconon program was so proud of Johnny that they used him as one of their success stories until 48 hours ago when he committed murder while probably high on the wrong shit.
Scientology scrubbed Johnny's pictures from all of their websites and a rep said that he hasn't been involved with the church for years.
I'm actually clutching my anal beads out of shock that Scientology acknowledged that Johnny Lewis once existed in their alien fart bubble of a world. I would've thought they'd be like, "Who? What? Huh? Don't be glib!" Right now, Queen David Miscavige is down in the Star Trek bunker underneath the Scientology Centre telling John Travolta the only way to get people to forget that Narconon is a part of this story is to release the Kraken. And yes by "release the Kraken" he means that Johnny's Scientolohole has to terrorize another massage therapist who will eventually sell his story to The National Enquirer. John Travolta will always take one for the team if it means his itchy, itchy anus gets to make an appearance.