Truly Awful Music
Right before Katie Price performed her new single (which has already been listed as a torture device by the U.N.) on GMTV today, she admitted that she can't dance or sing live. So if she knows that she has the dance skills of a plastic stripper doll with low batteries and a singing voice that could be classified as a terrorist threat, then what is the point of performing at all?! AND Katie can't even lip-synch right. Deaf toads with cotton mouth lip synch better than her ass!
Katie is well aware that she's causing harm to all of us, and yet she does it anyway! That is premeditated assault with intent to kill! LOCK THE BITCH UP! But before you do that, free that hairy jacket on her body first. Somewhere there's a nekkid ass gorilla who is thisclose to catching hypothermia. You WILL be hearing from the Dian Fossey Foundation, Katie!
via Holy Moly!
No, that's not an overinflated discount Pete Burns blow-up doll up there. It's the cover and short preview for Katie Price's new dance single called "Free To Love Again." Now that this bitch is free to love again maybe she can show some love to the eardrums of the innocent by not detonating anymore musical bombs.
If you shoved a vuvuzela into a dog's ass and asked him to fart into a fan, the sound he produces would be more pleasant to the ears than this shit! Harvey, please make it stop!
via The Sun
Even that puppy (who might be under Maryann Forrester's spell) can't save this truly shitty cover of Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" by Miley Cyrus. Usually when I need to get through a Miley Cyrus song, I just picture a 50-something Waffle House waitress in Georgia (aka Miley in 40 years), sitting on a crate in the back alley during her lunch break and singing this mess in between puffs from her 40th cigarette of the day. That glamorous vision usually holds my hand through shit like this, but not this time. This mess sounds like the Casio keyboard of my childhood (with 75 "awesome sound effects") violently barfed all over it.
Bret Michaels, please keep your bandanna-weave safely over your ears, because I don't think you can take this.
via Jezebel (Dedicated to Snowpiece)
The Jersey Shore's The Situation is shitting out a club song on iTunes next week, and above is a preview which will make you want to shove a morning after pill into your ear hole. The good news is that the Don Knotts of Guidos doesn't sing during this auto-tuned disaster, but the bad news is that he tries to rap. The Duck Phone probably raps better than this asshole.
The sad truth is that I can totally picture one of my cousins pussy popping to this fuckery on top of a box in the middle of a club in Riverside, CA somewhere. Every time the emergency siren blares in the song, she'll drop it low and kiss her Reeboks. Yes, she wears Reeboks to the clubs, because she says she can't bust it out for real in heels. Yes, I'm in the process of divorcing her.
And I'm still waiting for Snooki's techno house version of the Oompa Loompa song.
While Phil Spector is serving 19 years in prison for murdering Lana Clarkson, his equally creepy wife Rachelle Spector is mass murdering ear drums and retinas with the video for her new song "Here In My Heart." It's the first single off her album called "Out Of My Chelle." Rachelle is serious with that title. Just like that bitch is serious about using every single eyeshadow shade in her Coastal Scents makeup palette. Bitch looks like Phil Spector 10 years ago in budget drag as Taylor Dane. Hopefully, "here in her heart" is a shit load of make-up remover, because that is not the look.
And that song! It should be sung by a Mickey Mouse Club member circa 1990 or a cartoon character, not a grown ass woman! Apparently, Phil produced this mess from prison, which makes sense because it's fucking torture.
I give it 9 out 9 Creepy Phils:
When I first read the headline "Miley Cyrus Does Girl-On-Girl Dancer Kiss On Britain's Got Talent," I pictured PedoBear putting up a DO NOT DISTURB sign on his cave door so that he could stick his bits into a jar of honey while watching this in peace. Three minutes later, Billy Ray Cyrus strolls up, gives the secret knock and PedoBear lets him in.
But that image was Magic Erased from my head after I watched the actual video of Miley pretending to mouth fuck one of her dancers. What the hell kind of goddamn fake lesbo kiss is that?! Mickey Mouse is so disappointed. One of his hos let him down.
It's at the 1:05 mark. Warning: Turn the sound off or suffocate your speakers with a fat pillow before pressing play:
That looked more like a cross-eyed lame crow with mange picking the maggots off a dead rotting pigeon near the interstate. Besides, fauxmosexual onstage kisses don't get stamped with the HOW SHOCKING label anymore. If Miley truly wanted to surprise hos, she should try emoting a sound that doesn't make people wish they didn't have ears. And a paraplegic pony could stomp around better than that.
YES! Ever since RuPaul's Drag Race went dark I've been craving some dick tucking EXTRAVAGANZANESS, and now I can finally inject a little into my ass lips thanks to The Real Housewives of NYC's Cuntress LuMann! This is his new video for "Money Can't Buy You Class (Elegance is LUUUUURNED)".
Who knew they can auto-tune a face too, because that looks nothing like her. They used more Vaseline on the lens than they do on LuMann's anus before her prostate exam.
My abuelita had this cockatoo named Michi who woke everyone up in the morning with his loud ass squawking, tried to bite your hand any chance he got and pooped more than a baby on laxatives. Well, Miley Cyrus' new video reminds me of Michi's annoying ass. Throw a blanket over this or accidentally leave the cage door open when abuelita isn't looking!
This is 17-year-old Miley Cyrus' video for "Can't Be Tamed" which features her as some kind of crow beaver chicken creature humping on a bunch of birds in the middle of a museum. Pedo bird orgy alert. THE FUCK is right.
Noah Cyrus probably thought up this mess after downing a dozen Red Bulls in a row while watching Jessica Wild do the sessy chicken dance on RuPaul's Drag Race:
This video is about as sexy as two pigeons pecking each other to death over a crusty biscuit lying in the gutter. And come to think of it, the song alone sounds like two pigeons pecking each other to death.
Gif via Vh1
Lady Caca originally wrote "Telephone" for Our Lady of Cheetos, but she passed on it because her camp decided it would be weird for her to be singing about telephones when she can't even use one without getting written permission from her Daddy Spears first. Good move. But before Brit Brit call blocked "Telephone", she recorded a demo. Apparently, someone bought the demo for $750 from iLeaks. There's a little debate as to whether this real.
Even T-Pain is making the sign of the cross at this auto-tuned mess, so it could really be anyone. It could be Brit Brit, R2D2, a robot dog meowing into a fan, Lady Caca's peen while suffering from laryngitis or the dude on my computer who tells me when a file is "finished downloading." Probably the latter.
But the real story here is who in the hell paid $750 for THIS?! They could have bought Brit a priest to exorcise the beast on top of her head, a custom made Cheeto bra or a day supply of Frapps. Although, I should really go sit in the corner with the bitch who bought this, because I'm currently looking at a pair of autographed lucite heels from Shauna Sand that I got on eBay for the price of a round of cocktails. But in my defense, I had to buy those exquisite lucite heels since it's part of my religion.
Because Kim Zolciak's "Tardy for the Party" was such a worldwide mega hit of epic proportions, other Real Housewives think they have what it takes (aka zero dignity) to release their own dance singles. Here's The Real Housewives of NYC's very own Cuntess LuAnn teaching us all about elegance in her new song "Money Can't Buy You Class." It's the perfect song to hump on your Ethiopian princess girlfriend to.
This mess sounds like it was recorded in Jill Zarin's powder room after they all got drunk on white wine spritzers. LuAnn's former maid Rosie probably held up a fan for her to sing into while Jill pounded on her back. It's the Countess' version of auto-tune.
On the last episode, Jill's dog wasn't shitting because it was sick. It was shitting because it was giving its official review of LuAnn's song.
If you haven't heard it already, click here to listen to LuAnn's fake ass rich lady accent in "Money Can't Buy You Class."
And now if you'll excuse me, I must go flip myself off in the mirror because I can't stop singing this song. ELEGANCE IS LEARNED!