Good News Everyone, Wheelchair Jimmy And Chris Brown Are Friends Again!

Dump all your homemade ZzzQuil and pull the pillows out of storage, you can finally sleep at night now that you know Drake and Chris Brown no longer hate each other with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns. This picture of Wheelchair Jimmy and the human impacted wisdom tooth acting all palsy-walsy in a recording studio last night made its way to Instagram, and TMZ has taken as a sign that they’ve buried the hatchet and are maybe, possibly recording a song together.

In case you’ve forgotten and/or never gave a single crumbly shit in the first place (good for you), their feud began back in 2009 after Chris Brown went all Chris Brown-y on Rihanna before the Grammys. Wheelchair Jimmy swore on his emergency brake that he’d track down Chris Brown like a swaggy Inigo Montoya and extract vengeance against the man who roughed up his soulmate. Three years later, Wheelchair Jimmy rolled into Chris Brown in a club in NYC and sent a dozen broken bottles flying at his face, and the two became sworn enemies ever since.

I guess both of them fell into a coma and forgot that they’re supposed to be the rap version of Garfield and Nermal, because now it appears they’re BFFs who hang out in the recording studio in their sweatpants drinking out of red Solo cups. And I guess I need a brain scan, because that’s what’s bothering me most about this picture: those sweatpants. I’m hoping this is actually a picture of Drake and his cousin (who looks like he’s making a dookie in his underoos) when they were toddlers, because there is no reason for why two grown-ass men should be hanging out in sweatpants together.

Pic: Instagram

Royal Fetus Watch: Duchess Kate Touched Her Stomach!

Duchess Kate kept her hand firmly planted on her stomach during Saturday morning’s ribbon-cutting ceremony for the Yorkshire leg of the Tour de France, which either means she’s knocked-up with the second future fetus king or she’s got a major case of gut rot. Kate covered her belly the whole time, which is usually a sign that it’s time to plug in the Corgi’s Choice Royal Ultrasound Kit (available at your local Tesco!) but I wouldn’t put it past that devious Kate-hating Queen to sneak some Ex-Lax into Kate’s morning crumpet so that she’d get the shits and have to stay home. Personally, I want to believe it’s gas; it’s more fun to imagine Buckingham Palace Barbie pretending to cough in an attempt to mask the sound of noisy gut burps.

Not to mention that Baby Prince George is a jealous baby who would rather take a bilby bite to the shin than share the spotlight with another royal rug rat, so he’s probably trained the Queen’s smartest corgi to replace Duchess Kate’s prenatal vitamins with birth control pills. It’s not a fool-proof plan, but at least it will buy him some time to research how to perform a DIY vasectomy on his Leap Pad. “There’s only one Baby Prince and it’s Baby Prince George, dammit!” he says, as he soaks his blankie in chloroform.

Here’s more of Duchess Kate with her hand glued to her stomach at the Yorkshire leg of the Tour de France. She even cut the ribbon with one hand! Who does this trick think she is, Dudley the Dragon? Speaking of puppets, what in the name of Howdy Doody is going on with Prince Hot Ginge’s pants? I assume he’s wearing those shapeless disasters after arriving in a pair of nut-hugging spandex bike shorts and being told to change because the cyclists found his Yorkshire Pudding bulge too distracting.

Pics: Splash

Oh, Kelly Brook, You So Subtle

This generation’s answer to Kelly LeBrock (“Errr, but who in the hell was asking for a new Kelly LeBrock?” – everybody) got engaged to the modest tattooed bag of muscles David McIntosh a quick second ago and since everybody’s minds were shaking in anticipation over what her engagement ring looks like, she gave us all the Q-Tip by oh-so-subtly flashing the ring she bought herself during a pap stroll to his first home the gym in L.A. yesterday. You’re probably reading this with your head slumped on the table and your body drained of energy, because ever since you read that Kelly Brook is going to get pre-divorced to Mr. BoiledPotatoAndCarrotCrotch, you went on a hunger strike until your eyes got a glimpse of her ring. You can nourish yourself again!

It’s obvious that Kelly went to Jared herself, because if David picked out and bought that ring, it would’ve been shaped like a barbell since he ain’t picking up shit unless it has weights on it. And the literary journal of integrity The Daily Mail points us to this tweet that David tweeted out right around the time he proposed to Kelly stopped lifting two Fiats to shrug and say, “uh, okay,” when Kelly showed him the ring she bought herself.

biggest smile on my face 1:cos I av da most incredible woman in my life 2:cos I’m smashing a shoulder session dat wud cripple 10 humans

And that tweet crippled 10 of my brain cells. Haha, I know, like I have 10 brain cells. You know, if David talks like he types, then he probably sounds like a post-stroke Tweety Bird with a burnt tongue. Kelly Brook picked out the best starter husband!

With all that being said, yes, I still wud.

Pics: Splash

Jennifer Aniston Got Extensions Because Short Hair Made Her Feel Like An Old Hag

Maybe it’s the angle of the picture or the fact that she’s giving the same face my mom used to give when she caught my sister and I doing hoodrat stuff, but that haircut does sort of make Jennifer Aniston looks an overworked mother of 3 kids. I feel like at any moment, she’s going to start yelling at me to get out of the neighbor’s pool while picking up the phone and pretending to call Santa. “Nope, she’s being a real lil’ asshole right now. You should probably tell the elves to stop making toys and just wrap up a hot reindeer dump, because that’s all she deserves.”

Despite the fact that Jennifer Aniston looks fucking better at 44 than most 34-year-olds (and the odd 27-year-old), Radar says that she instantly regretted her recent decision to cut off all her hair because it was making her look too old. Apparently, she’d fried the shit out of her hair after too many Brazilian Blowouts and the hair cut was necessary, but she couldn’t get used to catching her reflection in the mirror and mistaking it for a resident of Shady Pines. Instead of waiting for it to grow out like any of us who’ve been forced to cut off the lower half their hair because it felt like Bob Ross’s pubes, she got impatient and spent 5 hours getting hair extensions put in. Hair extensions aren’t exactly great for your hair, so she’s pretty much back at square one.

What is it with this woman’s relationship with her hair?!? First her hair makes her famous, and everyone loves her hair, but she doesn’t, so she grows it all out just to spite the hair. Then her long hair starts to define her, so she cuts it all off. Then she thinks the hair doesn’t make her look pretty enough, so she grows it all out again. It’s like her and her fucking hair are in a mother/daughter Lifetime movie (Not Without My Flatiron, starring Jennifer Lawrence as Jennifer Aniston, and Ariana Grande as Jennifer’s Hair).

(Pic: Wenn)