RiRi can't go through a photo shoot without the photographer, assistants, stylists, the dude who keeps the chips bowl full and everybody else in the studio getting two eye fulls of her titty knobs. Just like the dude who lived across from me when I lived in the East Village a few years ago, bitch always to have her titties out. (Side note: You haven't lived in NYC until you've looked out your living room window and watched a fat, hairy white dude sing out loud while cooking. Fuck city views, I want singing bear views.)
And Kate Moss is just like RiRi, she's gotta make sure everybody has seen her boobs more than they've seen their own. So when V Magazine (via Fashionista) put Kate and RiRi in a shoot together, of course they brought their chichis out and took turns whipping each other like a straight dude's dream version of a lesbian Fifty Shades of Grey (Fifty Shades of Flannel?). Speaking of dreams, this is also a coke dealer's idea of the perfect threesome. I'm sure that the carbon monoxide detector in the studio started screaming, because it smelled chemical gas wafting out of RiRi and Kate Moss' noses and it went off just to be safe.
And here's RiRi's video for that Diamonds song. Bitch is running from cars, rubbing on some white Chris Brown arm, staring at the Northern Lights and cutting up her lungs by trying to smoke rhinestones.
Well, I liked the part with the horse...
While wearing a coat made of the carcasses of Benji's slaughtered relatives, Liberty Ross left London's Serpentine Gallery last night with a dude who isn't her cheating skank husband Rupert Sanders and she held hands with the dude, so this obviously means that she's scrubbing away Kristen Stewart's saliva (that was transferred to her chocha by Rupert's tongue) on a shrub of curly British pubes. Obviously.
I know, Liberty Ross should be under her bed sheets, wallowing in the shame of her husband passing his nomad tongue to a slow trick with the sex appeal of uncooked peen dough, but she took the advice of important poet Kandi Burruss and is flying above all the drama. Besides, the best way to reheat a cold heart that froze from your husband cheating on you is to put it in front of the warm flashes shooting off of the paparazzi's cameras.
And I know these pictures of Liberty Ross (Side note: The first time I read the name "Liberty Ross," I Googled to see if there's a Ross Dress For Less in a town called Liberty, because I know what's important.) are heart-stoppingly exciting on their own, but I threw in pictures of everyone's favorite British drunk Kate Moss. Kate Moss is saving the economy, one vodka shot at a time.
Since J. Harvey is a certified drunk mess, I felt it was only fitting to announce his triumphant return with these pictures of Our Patron Saint of Patron, Kate Moss, trying to figure out how "this walking thing" works while leaving a Mexican restaurant in London with her husband Count Von Count last night. But before I get into Drunk Ass Kate being Drunk Ass Kate....
One of the more reliable voices in my head tells me that the sanctity of marriage will receive a flaming breath of life this weekend when the most gorgeous ginger lesbian on every planet Rojo Caliente marries Cynthia Nixon. So because of this, I'm going to spend my entire Memorial Day Weekend throwing confetti made of double pleated Dockers in the streets to celebrate the greatest ROYAL GINGER LESBIAN WEDDING OF OUR TIME! No, I won't be doing that, but I did hear that a Rojo Caliente wedding might be upon us soon, so gird your souls! My mom is in town, so my sister and I will be spending our Memorial Day Weekend fighting with each other in various restaurants around the city. While I do that, J. Harvey will be spreading the foolery on Dlisted starting today through Monday. I'll still be posting sporadically (file that under: smart words I learned while watching Clueless) throughout the weekend, so you haven't completely gotten rid of me. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday where we'll continue to investigate the mysteries of dick cheese, etc...
And now, here's Kate Moss threatening all of us with a good time by leaving her fly open while leaving that Mexican restaurant. I don't know if that peep show sign is just a decoration to make that place look edgy or if there's a porn store next door, but I sort of like the idea of a Mexican restaurant/sex store. Yes, it would smell like a donkey show star's fart, but I've smelled worse in the subway during August. I mean, when you're jacking off in a sex store, don't you really wish that you had a bowl of refried beans in your other hand? Hold the queso blanco.
This story from The Sun is so fake that if I chopped it into a fat line and laid it out on a mirror, Kate Moss still wouldn't snort it up. But it did lead me to this gem of Fishsticks Paltrow being the third, deflated, greasy wheel to Kate and Liv Tyler back in the day. Kate is totally saying to Liv: "Maybe if I hand this bitch an 8-ball, she'll GOOP away." Fishsticks is totally saying to Fishsticks: "Duuuuuuurrrrrp."
So, both GOOPY and Kate Moss were guests at the owner of Topshop Sir Philip Green's fancy and extravagant 60th birthday holiday in Mexico last week. Apparently, Kate would rather stay at home with her own child than spend 6 seconds with GOOP and the feeling is mutual. So when GOOPY ran into Kate while jogging along the beach, they tried to out-cunt each other and the hilariously fake altercation went something like this:
Kate: Oi, what you out jogging for?
GOOP: So I don't look like you when I get old!
Kate: Why don't you eat some fucking carbs!
As much as I'd like to believe that GOOP has the power to lighten a ho's skin by shading her so much, this didn't happen. GOOP would never jog on the beach in Mexico, because she's too afraid of running into local poors. GOOP runs on a treadmill in her hotel suite while her slaves hold up Photoshopped pictures of the Mexican playa. And Kate was probably so drunk the entire time that when she did run into Fishy, she thought GOOP was just a soggy coke booger that escaped out of her nose and mutated into human form. It's happened before, I'm sure.
Here's a beat-looking and weathered down Kate Moss stumbling drunkface first out of The Box in London last night with her husband Count von Count and some friends. Don't let out one laugh, because this will probably be some of us in a few hours (and is probably some of you RIGHT NOW) after Jack Daniels rides a Wild Turkey down our throats a dozen times or so. You know, it's when the nectar of the Gods lulls your head to sleep and your brain tries to pull down your eyelid shades, but you're trying to fight it to keep the party alive. That's your loved ones cue to plop you in a corner, shove a slobber bucket under your neck and then spend the rest of the night trying to throw uncooked cranberries into your wide open passed out mouth. It's a Thanksgiving tradition! But I have a feeling that to Kate Moss' daughter, it's a nightly tradition.
Kate Moss is a seasoned drunk who knows very well that sometimes you can get to a party to find that some rabid disrespectful piles of scab trash have sucked down all the good sweet nectar and have left you to make a cocktail out of melted ice and window cleaner. So Kate always comes prepared just in case disaster should strike, and last night in London she stumbled into the Dazed & Confused (too easy) party at the W Hotel with two human crutches to keep her from spilling her goblet of wine.
Kate was not about to spill one drop. Jodie Marsh could've come by and made the wind barf by flexing, and Kate's hand would've stayed steady and kept the wine in. Pete Doherty could've slithered up from the gutters to make tongue love with Kate's nostrils (how they used to greet each other in the old days) and that glass would stay as stiff as a zombie's dick. Bitch could go through a Wipeout obstacle course and come out with a full glass. Unlike that wrong bitch Kate Winslet in Titanic, Kate Moss is never letting go.
In the glory days, Kate could throw that wine around like nothing, but IN THIS ECONOMY you have to cherish and respect every precious drop. You don't waste that shit. You fight for it, you lie for it, you walk the wire for it, you dieeeee for it.
If you're a crackhead on a budget, stand underneath Pete "Dreamboat" Doherty's window tonight with your mouth wide open, because he will definitely be shedding crack-laced tears of sadness over his true love Kate Moss marrying Jamie Hince of The Kills (aka Count Von Count) this afternoon in Southrop, England after being together for 4 years.
Kate apparently wore a dress made by cartoon villain and Hitler pin-up bitch John Galliano. Yeah, those gold things on Kate's dress are the fanciest Swastikas I've ever seen. Later tonight, they'll all chop the dress into fine powder and snort it up. I don't blame them, because judging by these pictures there are a lot of chirruns at that wedding. Why the hell does Kate have so many little girls dressed up as Midsummer Night's Dream nymphs? This isn't Shakespeare in the Park, bitch!
The guest list apparently includes Kanye West, Naomi Campbell, Anna Wintour, Stella McCartney and a bunch of other fashion people. Yeah, so that reception is going to be a blast. The waiters will serve them empty mirrors and they'll all just snarl at each other while poking at the pastel coke balls in plastic swan cups. Sounds fun!
The details from The Mirror on Kate Moss' secret August 7th wedding to her longtime line cutter Count Von Count are kind of hilarious. My guess is that Kate Moss is their "source" and she got so high on pink champagne bubbles that she passed out onto the cheese fondue fountain and woke up in an empty bath tub the next morning not remembering a damn thing. So she watched A Midsummer Night's Dream, cut her shit with Pixy Stix and then called up The Mirror and used a foreign accent to give them all the details of "Kate Moss' summer wedding to Jamie Hince." And here they are:
The couple, who met in September 2007, chose to wed in a small, picturesque church on the Mediterranean island of Sicily, away from all prying eyes.
With only their closest friends in attendance, and Mossy’s daughter Lila Grace acting as one of three ring bearers, the whole day was relaxed, simple and, for Kate and Jamie, perfect.
“They planned the day for weeks and were so excited. Kate didn’t want a stuffy, formal do, but something spiritual.
“Minutes after tying the knot, the giggling newlyweds were outside the church, dancing under trees.”
Adds the source: “Afterwards locals from the village were milling about, joining in the festivities. It was an incredibly happy day.”
See what I mean. Dancing under the trees?! Who do they think they are? Sookeh in the fairy land? Gay hippies on the right kind of shrooms? Me if the tree's branches were covered with sparkly dildos? There were definitely ecstasy pills in their canapes, or the "source" was eating ecstasy canapes before calling up The Mirror.
With all that being said, YAY for Kate and the man who has promised to hold her hair while she barfs last night's party in the toilet for the rest of his life. And condolences to Dreamboat Doherty who is doing the crackie cry somewhere:
Should've been you, Dreamy! Should've been you!
UPDATE: Will somebody throw an empty bottle at Dreamy's head, because he can stop bawling now. Kate Moss' agent has taken this story, chopped it up, sprinkled it onto a metal spoon and smoked it up! Apparently, the wedding never happened and Kate Moss is not Mrs. Count Von Count.
Leave it to Ty Ty Banks to take a pair of five cent fish nets from the store and wrap that mess around her head as though it was a piece of fine couture crafted from the hands of angel Coco Chanel herself. The Deadliest Catch indeed! No really, Ty Ty straight-up shoved her HD head into a pair of fishnets and cut the ends off. She gave herself a pat on the back for this shit on her Twitter:
So FRENCH VOGUE mask is sum cheap FISHNET stockings I got n crazy store n Paris! I cut em up n made it y'all. N did my ow hair n makeup.
Note to self: If I ever need a pair of fishnets in Paris, go to the CRAZIEST store. While I do appreciate Ty Ty's MacGyver-like skills, she looks like a Christmas ham to me. The kind of ham that when you peel back the foil, you find that it has already spoiled so you don't even cut the netting off. You immediately take it back to Food 4 Less for a store credit.
Besides, Marilyn Manson did it better:
I mean, how did Ty Ty even eat or drink? Somebody please tell me there's a picture of Ty Ty shoving a slice of steak in between her fishnet holes. Make it work, Ty Ty! Oh wait, that's the wrong show. Drecktitude, Ty Ry, drecktitude!
And here's a few more pictures from Vogue's 90th anniversary party in Paris last night: The First Lady of CRAZY, Jean Paul Gaultier, Jeremy Scott, Dita Von Teese, Zac Posen with Diane von Furstenberg, Marc Jacobs, Gis Bundchen, and the perpetually tanked Kate Moss.
I mean that in more ways than one. Courtney Love is in the mood for spilling the shit on every famous whore her clitoris has terrorized in the past. Courtney Love's sex list is the HUAC Hollywood blacklist of 2010. Run and hide!
Courtney already threw shame on Gavin Rossdale by farting about how she fucked and slimed him while he was with Gwen Stefani. Now Court is dragging Kate Moss from one gutter to the next.
Courtney tells Hot Press about how she got nekkid with Kate Moss back in the 90s. Court said, “It’s a great story for the grandchildren so . . . yeah. Kate wasn’t doing a lot of drugs. It was just a thing that happened in Milan in the ‘90s. It happened and it was fun and whatever. And she talks about it and so I hope she doesn’t get mad that I outed her about it... I feel like such a kiss and tell... Kate’s great, though! Kate’s a good friend of mine. I almost bought Kate’s house in St. John’s Wood (London).”
Correction. It's a great a story to tell the grandchildren if you want them to suffer horrific night terrors which will leave their bed sheets soaked in their own piss.
I love how Court says that Kate wasn't doing a lot of drugs. That means Kate can't even use the excuse that she was higher than a Sunshine Walker when she bumped 'ginas with Court. But this does make me understand Kate a little more.
The moment she put her tongue on Court's minge is when she jumped off the edge and landed face first into a mountain of the bad shit. Ever since then, Kate has been filling her nose with massive amounts of coke in hopes that those granules will find their way to the part of her brain that holds the memory of her nibbling on Court's snatch. Kate isn't trying to get high, she's trying to erase that memory! That reason will hold up in a court of law!
Here's Kate looking as fresh as ever (sarcasm) at the opening of a Topshop in London yesterday.