And now I finally know-know what I’ll miss most about Lost. The MAN NIPPLES!!! Vulture put together a video featuring most of Lost’s topless dude moments. Even though this shit might make you reach for the Dharma lube, it’s obviously missing some Hurley. You know Hurley’s nipples can stomp on all of these hos.

via The Frisky

When Melissa Etheridge and Tammy Lynn Michaels announced the end of their relationship in April, the former called their breakup “mutual” in an interview with Oprah. The day the Oprah interview aired Tammy hinted on her blog that the split was the opposite of mutual. Tammy quickly deleted that post, but now she has brought the raw emotion in a new poem she posted on her blog on Thursday.

Some choose to show up at their ex’s job to throw shit at them in front of all of their co-workers, and some choose do it from the comfort of their own blog (why are you throwing eyes at me like that?). Tammy’s 45 million word poem of broken hearts and toddler caca is after the jump. It’s not required reading and you won’t get extra credit for it, but Tammy does kick Melissa hard in the bagina bone, so maybe it’s worth a scan. And she also talks about poles up her ass. That’s our language! JUMP!

no more censorship for me?

well, no censorship?
really, honey?
awesome.

things can be a long time coming
to one
and smash the hell out of
another:
hit and run
not even staying to clean up the mess

secrets, with-holding,
whispering to all but
the one whom holds the vows
and the toddlers

disappearances into the
hourglass-shaped wood with strings
never to finish a fight
never interested in clarifying,
making sense, making it right
even finishing the fight
more interested in making something rhyme
time after time after time
and later angsting that you and me, WE
it didn’t work out
you evolved
you needed to be happy-
but really… you withdrew your hands
from family and intimacy
to pluck those strings more
Story continues below

i’d rather hear 10,000 fans
screaming my name in worship
than hear my wife harp on me
about my family intimacy issues too,
you know?
which one is going to get me harder?
easy answer

sideswiped and left mangled
up to my eyes in toilet training toddlers
and sounds of a guitar wailing
letting me know
you would probably leave me soon
i know those heart-ache wails by now

i even told you it was a break up album
and you laughed at me
you laughed and laughed
i heard fearless and i got sick
“that’s your break up song with me”
i said to you
you got so angry with me, remember?
and stomped off

so thank you for telling an interviewer
that you WON’T censor me on my blog
(i thought i was to say nothing, my bad)
i was so unhappy thinking people dare look at me
and think that i consider
a marriage and forever to be
nine years or six years or whatever
and i gave up on everything
and just walked off
never is that me… nope, never

cuz i did not go anywhere, honey.
and you and i both know it
please stop telling the press it was mutual-

my birthday rolled around,
the holidays….
and me and the twins sat right there waiting…
we didn’t go anywhere. we just
sat and waited and waited and waited and waited…..

“i saw you with your new friends….
you wear them so well….”

i think you’re saying it’s okay
to be more open now on this blog?
whew.
good. cuz sitting on the fence of
“speak true”
and
“say nothing”

fucking rides a pole so far up my ass it nearly pierces my brain, and i can’t take it anymore, now that i am back home where people don’t live in the smoke and mirrors.

oh, and don’t let me forget this.

i still love that damn woman so much, i’m still trying to stop. i had a dream last where honey and i were fighting and going to get a divorce, and i woke up sobbing…. then i realized. oh. it’s true. and then what do you do? when the horrible feeling in the dream gets to stay even after you wake up?

there. there is my truth as of today.

home again.
home again.
feeling true.
feeling honest.

Damn. Melissa is going to have to put a flannel band-aid on the bruise Tammy just gave her. And after that shit heals, you just know Melissa is going to snatch this poem, turn it into a song, make millions of dollars off of it and spend the money on her soon-to-be 20-year-old trophy girlfriend.

via HuffPo

At last night’s Celebrate the Rainforest concert in NYC, Sting took to the stage resembling a younger and sessier Madame before she got Cisco Adler’s balls stuffed into her face cheeks. Every person in the audience had to be pried off their seat with a crane, because Sting made their no-nos pucker in unison.

Along with Sting, Elton John (who was in dick fucking heaven), the stunningly glamorous Debbie Harry, Lady Caca, Bruce Springsteen, some overgrown dwarf woman thing and Shirley Bassey also performed. Unfortunately, Xtina wasn’t able to make it but she was there in rouge. Seriously, it looks like she wet coughed all over Sting’s cheeks.

Mimi is continuing the tradition of naming her perfumes after baby prostitot street gangs. First came Luscious Pink and now she has announced that she will release her latest perfume LOLLIPOP BLING in June through Elizabeth Arden. You don’t have to reach far into your memory to know that Mimi was inspired by the truly elegant diamond-encrusted candy ring her husboy gave her for their anniversary.

Noah Cyrus probably already pre-ordered boxes upon boxes of this butterfly urine. Lollipop Bling is going to smell like a sweet sweet mixture of munchkin loogies, Jolly Rancher soda, a drop of Johnny Weir’s liquid glitter hole sweat, the secretions from a cougar’s vagina, and a faint whisper of burnt Spanx. TJ Maxx better make room in the back of their stock room, because LOLLIPOP BLING is coming!

And I really hope that I’m still alive in 30 years to see what Mimi has become. Bitch is still going to be running around in pink terry cloth shorty shorts and rainbow halter tops. She’s going to look like Jerri Blank. Well, if Jerri Blank got a ho-over from a gay unicorn.

via Rap-Up

At Time’s Most Influential Gala in NYC on Monday night, Lea Michele spent most of the evening sucking on her boyfriend’s mouth as though his throat was filled with pizza rolls or something delicious like that. During Lea’s mouth fuck time with her boyfriend, celebrity photographer Patrick McMullan, who regularly shoots fancy events, started taking her picture. Lea gladly posed for him but then she pulled out her sharpened shank when he asked for her name. Somebody who was sitting at the same table tells Daily Intel that their conversation went like this:

Patrick McMullan: What’s your name?
Lea Michele: [Rolls eyes.] Sarah Palin.
Patrick McMullan: [Laughs.] No, really, tell me your name.
Lea Michele: Taylor Swift.
Patrick McMullan: Fuck you.

Lea and Patrick should really do that more often. They’re good at it.

I don’t know who I love more, Lea for being a condescending cunt for no reason or Patrick for telling her to fuck off (which is what she was in the middle of doing before he rudely interrupted her). Even if Lea told him her real name, Patrick would still have to Google her (you dumb fuck) to get a clue or two.

That being said, Lea needs to give us more of this. More of this! The world could always use more acts of cuntery. Naomi Campbell should take this girl under her wing and show her how the professional cunts do it.

The blind item about a celebrity coming out on the cover of People Magazine on Wednesday has apparently been solved. Put your magnifying glass down, Detective La Toya.

Gawker, Queerty and TMZ are all pointing their fingers at country singer Chely Wright. Or as 99% of the population know her as, WHO???!!!? Seriously, they could’ve at least given us Kenny Chesney!

Chely’s publicist is Howard Bragman and she has a book, Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer, and an album, Lifted Off the Ground, coming out on Thursday, so it all makes sense that she will be the one declaring her love for vagina on the cover of People this week. And nothing gets you noticed like a bunch of conservative country fans asking Walmart to ban your CD because you’ve got “tha lesbiansessual sicks.” Although, I don’t even know if they’re going to care.

I wonder what the headline will be for Chely’s People Magazine cover. I hope it’s one of these four:

1. Chely Wright (Google her, you dumb fuck!) is a lesbian!
2. Chely Wright (Yeah, we don’t know either) is a lesbian!
3. Chely Write says: “I’m Gay!” Mariah Carey’s response is: “I don’t know her”
4. Harpo, who dis woman?

Anyways, congratulations to Chely for sharing her gayelleness with the world, even thought it is a publicity stunt.

If you have a big announcement to make and have more than 50 Twitter followers, hit up People magazine because they will probably give you the cover.