Kelly Clarkson, one-half of the greatest on-screen pairing in one of cinema’s greatest masterpieces, finally gave birth to that baby that was living inside her. It felt like Kelly had been pregnant with her second for years. When she appeared on American Idol back in February, I was sure her performance was going to end with Harry Connick Jr. slipping into his doctor costume from the Lifetime movie Living Proof and delivering her baby on stage while her husband Brandon Blackstock cheered them on from the audience. But her baby still had some time to go, and he popped out two days ago. Kelly confirmed the arrival of her baby boy, Remington Alexander Blackstock, earlier today on Twitter.

Our little baby boy has arrived!! Remington Alexander Blackstock was born 4/12/16 & he is healthy & we couldn't be happier or more in love!

— Kelly Clarkson (@kelly_clarkson) April 14, 2016

Kelly and Brandon’s new baby joins their almost 2-year-old daughter River Rose. This also means that sassy lil’ Oklahoma gingersnap Reba McEntire is an honorary memaw again. Reba was Brandon’s step-mama for 26 years, and they’re still close. So congratulations, Remington – you won the baby lottery. You’ll be able fall asleep to Saturday afternoon reruns of Reba with the star of Reba.

As for that name. Kelly is a Texas girl through and through, so it’s sort of fitting that she named her son after America’s oldest gun brand. The only thing more Texas would be if she named her son Roadhouse, or the sound of truck tires squealing. Not to mention just how much more Texas-y it sounds when you put it with his big sister’s name. River & Remington sounds like a company that sells custom-made mechanical bulls for country bars, or Tami Taylor’s favorite rhinestone-covered purse store.

Pic: Instagram

Oh, Anna Wintour, that frozen-hearted demonic genius!

Taylor Swift is one of the co-chairs of this year’s MET(h) Gala along with Anna Wintour, so I figured that Vogue’s lips were currently attached to her heart-shaped asshole. But I figured wrong, because this morning Anna Wintour released the newest cover of Vogue with Tay Tay on the cover and this mess screams: I. Hate. This. Trick. If Anna Wintour liked Taylor, she wouldn’t have her on the cover looking like the old straw broom my abuelita used to sweep the carpet with. I know that Anna Wintour is completely dead inside and doesn’t have the ability to process human emotions, but I still love her for this.

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Back in February, sometime singer/current engaged person Ciara (seen moments before she redefined the word petty by refusing to say her ex’s name while announcing the Billboard nominees in the picture above) whipped a defamation lawsuit at the father of her baby and former fiance, Future. Ciara claimed Future was dragging her name through the mud and publicly accusing her of being a shitty mom to their almost 2-year-old son Future Zahir, and was seeking $15 million. The Jasmine Brand (via TMZ) says Future has responded to Ciara’s lawsuit with a lawsuit of his own. How very daytime soap opera of you, Future.

Future is counter-suing Ciara, claiming that there’s no way he could have damaged her reputation or career because she doesn’t exactly have one anymore. Future refers to Ciara’s last album, Jackie, as a flop, which it sort of was, and brings up the fact that Ciara hasn’t won many awards in the past couple years. Basically what Future is implying is that the only way you could use “hot” in the same sentence as Ciara’s name would be if you were telling the story about a stolen car that had a copy of Goodies in the CD player. He also sort of accuses Ciara of suing him for publicity. Ciara? Publicity? The woman who got engaged on Instagram would never!

Future isn’t asking for nearly as much as Ciara is. He just wants his legal fees paid for and for her to stop talking shit about him. I know the desire for a melodramatic type to go off on their ex after a couple glasses of wine is strong, but maybe Ciara’s goodies will help distract her the next time she wants to publicly slap at Future. “Girl! Hey! Look down here! Remember how we’re one step closer to finally riding on Russell Wilson’s dick? That’s right, put down your phone and go to your happy place, girl.”

Pic: Splash

President Trump decided to make a few tasteful changes to the Oval Office after his election. – Tanagra

Upvote winner:

I stayed in that room once. Oh the mammaries! – Leona Lopez

Pic: Tosh.0

Gooey Louie!

“Gooey Louie” sounds like a nickname for what a Directioner makes in their panties after seeing a topless picture of that Louis Tomlinson trick. But Gooey Louie is a game that still exists today and was born over 20 years ago when the 90s snorted this mess out of its nose. I feel like the 80s is when humanity’s style truly evolved and I also feel like the 90s is when humanity’s maturity really evolved. Because games and toys in the 90s were all about farts and snots. (Fart aficionado Jennifer Lawrence’s peak happened in the wrong decade!)

There’s not much to Gooey Louie. You and whoever you’re playing the game with take turns rolling the dice. The dice will tell you to either skip a turn, pull one long rubber worm snot out of Louie or pull two snots out of him. You never know if the snot you pull out of him is the one which will cause him to sneeze his brains out. Yes, this bitch sneezes his brains out. Gooey Louie is more like Coked Up Louie. Look at those bulging eyes.

And as a grown, I appreciate Gooey Louie even more, because his brains look like a diseased dick with a mushroom head. Like mine!

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