I loathe the idea of elaborate proposals seemingly orchestrated specifically for Instagram. But when personal trainer Alex Fine rustled up a cowboy themed proposal for his pregnant girlfriend Cassie, Diddy‘s ex and The One That Got Away, I actually enjoyed it. Reason being, for one thing, much as his name implies, Alex is indeed fine. And for some reason, he slipped his greased-up torso into his engagement video. But I also enjoyed it because there aren’t enough 18-23 year olds on Leonardo DiCaprio’s green earth to make Diddy forget he let a good one slip away. Alex has provided Cassie with everything he couldn’t: A hot-shot of healthy sperm, rock hard abs, and the promise of undying love and devotion. And so to Cassie I say, hats off to you, little lady. Now giddy up off into the sunset!
Diddy and Cassie began bumping fuck parts in 2007 after he signed her to his record label. Over a decade, Diddy and Cassie pretty much kept their love on the down-low (But is it keeping it on the down-low when nobody really cares in the first place? That is the question), and they broke up several times. There’s also been rumors of him passing his wandering peen to side tricks and stories about them getting messy. And now Cassie’s rep tells LoveBScott that the Dollar General version of Beyonce and Jay-Z are no more. People also confirms it. And because Diddy will topple and won’t be able to walk into an event unless he has a full-time human trophy at his side and he’s no longer got Cassie as his go-to accessory, he’s already got a new piece. That burning rubber sound you just heard is Drake skidding while sliding into Cassie’s DMs real fast.
When you’re a question mark’s favorite pop singer and people regularly mistake you for the wall, you have to pull some shit to make people pay attention to you. Like dress yourself up as a Miss Kitty from the future who just got jumped by a gang of silkie chickens.
Clive Davis threw his annual pre-Grammy party in NYC last night, and many of the guests decided to save their better dresses for tonight’s Grammys (although, they should really just wear pajamas with an attached pillow and duvet cover, because that shit is going to be three and a half fucking hours long). Because most of them wore boring dresses bought off the rack at Macy’s (Taryn Manning’s impact!), but not Rita Ora.
Rita Ora threw feathers, fringe, bows, rhinestone and whatever else that was on sale at Michael’s onto her body. Rita looks like she just came from auditioning for the Thandie Newton role in a no-budget unauthorized Public Access reboot of Westworld that takes place way off in the future and will eventually get shut down after HBO sues. Rita is also dressed like a look-for-less Kartrashian, which is saying a lot since the Kartrashians dress like look-for-less Kartrashians.
And here’s a million more pictures from Clive Davis’ party, including Kathie Lee Gifford (who I hope wins, via write-in vote, the Best Song Grammy tonight for He Saw Jesus) and Martha Stewart, whose dogs are probably nervous that she’s going to skin and wear their asses next.
Answer: Diddy gives a fuck, like a lot of fucks.
red beige and blue carpet posing portion of last night’s Met Gala, Diddy worked the cameras with his on-and-off-and-on-and-off-and-on-again piece Cassie, and at one point he lounged on the steps like a man casually lounging on a display at Forever 21 while his girlfriend gets in a long line to try on a pair of jeans. That little smooth move brought out a dozen “Diddy Don’t Give A Fuck” headlines. Au contraire, bitch. Diddy does give a fuck and that shameless spotlight-shifting whore knew what he was doing.
Cassie stood there in a field of humongous ass sea urchins, working for those camera clicks, as Diddly easily got the cameras to move his way by casually strolling to the stairs for a little lounging time. Cassie’s dress is covered with giant plastic caterpillars (or are those giant Groucho Marx brows?) and Diddy gets all the attention by simply lounging like an evil vampire lounging on a velvet settee while eyeing his prey from across the room. Diddy wants us to think he’s saying, “Oh, this moment is all about her,” but we all know he’s saying, “Oh, this moment is all about moi.”
With that being said, I’d probably do the same thing, because standing is hard. And also, that dramatic lying down pose really does show off Diddy’s “Steven Seagal spending a casual afternoon at home” outfit.
And now we end our never-ending Mess Gala 2017 coverage with several dollops of hotness provided by the dudes of the night including ASkars, Riz Ahmed, Rami Malek and Luke Evans.
Pics: Wenn.com, Getty
The 35th anniversary of the birth of Beysus (I’ll pause here for all of us shady bitches who need to throw a side-eye at “35“) was on Sunday and she celebrated Beymas all weekend long. Beyonce and Blue Ivy Carter spent Friday with Michelle Obama at Camp David, Chance The Rapper serenaded her at the Made In America festival in Philadelphia on her actual born day, and last night she threw herself a giant Soul Train-themed party in NYC. A zillion famous tricks went to Beyonce’s party, including Puffy whose puffy b-hole probably screamed out a YES when he got the invitation, because he finally had a reason to wear that $3 swap meet-bought Vinnie Barbarino wig.
I know it’s redundant of me to even ask, because we all know that Sue Ellen Mischke from Seinfeld has, is, and forever will always work the bra-under-a-blazer look the best. But Amber Rose is coming in a very close second. We all know that Amber Rose has a habit of bringing ten tons of jaw-dropping eleganza to the MTV VMAs. Sometimes she goes straight-up stripper, other times she keeps it a little more demure. This year she went tasteful and sophisticated with just a hint of “Oh, these?”