Rachel McAdams And Jake Gyllenhaal Got Drunk And Went Dancing In Pennsylvania

There’s truly nothing cuter than the story of two gals letting their hair down and living it up during a night on the town. UsWeekly says that after shooting wrapped last month on the film Southpaw (I already checked and, no, it’s not a biopic about the long-lost Paw Paw Bear from Kentucky), Rachel McAdams and Jake Gyllenhaal celebrated with the rest of the cast and crew at a local bar in Indiana, PA. A source (I know, SO EXCLUSIVE!!!) claims that Rachel and Jake kicked things off with a round of shots, then moved on to the hard shit: Grey Goose, Makers Mark, and Guinness. Yes, Guinness is hard shit: it’s hard to drink and it tastes shit. It’s like drinking a melted poo milkshake.

Once they got drunk enough, Rachel and Jake made their way to the dance floor, where the source claims Jakey Poo tried to do the Wobble Dance, which probably looked something like this. Eventually the dance floor got too crowded and Jakey didn’t have enough room to dance, so he and Rachel moved to a table in the back and kept drinking. They eventually left around 2am. No word on who held who’s hair back when they started barfing on the walk home.

There’s one person in this story who I am TRULY pissed at, and that’s the DJ at that Pennsylvania bar. The second Jakey G walked in with his beautiful beard (the one on his face, you guys, come on), that DJ had a responsibility, and that was to get Jake as drunk as possible, crank up Pony by Ginuwine, then whip out his cellphone and film Jake busting out some smooth drunk white dude moves. Isn’t that the sort of thing you learn in the first week of iTunes-101 at DJ University? Come on.

SHOCKING: Crack-Smoking Toronto Mayor Rob Ford Was A Giant Mess In Rehab

In an article that could have been written by Doge and titled: “Wow, much mess, so surprise”, The Toronto Star claims that Toronto Mayor Rob Ford, was a dumb destructive asshole during his two-month stay in rehab. According to several sources, the human version of ham smell spent most of his time at the GreeneStone rehab facility acting like the sweaty, bloated, grown-up Costco-sized version of Justin Bieber by terrorizing other patients, and not just with his rancid fried chicken farts (but I mean, come on, those were probably an issue too):

During the morning group sessions, where residents are encouraged to share their deepest secrets, Ford was abusive to other residents, shouting them down, refusing to listen, swearing constantly, sources told the Star.

In the hallways and common areas, Ford argued, pushed and shoved other patients who were angry that Ford had “brought his circus with him,” sources said.

“We are not paid enough to deal with this guy,” one counsellor remarked during a conversation with another counsellor.

“Rob Ford literally had the run of the place. There were no rules around Rob Ford,” said another source.

And even though he was at GreeneStone, he might have still been trying to score that white rock:

Management was concerned Ford continued to use drugs or alcohol during his time in rehab. The Star was unable to determine if Ford abused any substances during his two month stint.

GreeneStone’s wooded property has a well known “nature walk” and a concern of staff is that some residents meet their drug dealers or people providing alcohol at the far end of the walk.

Walk? Far? Oh, never mind then. He definitely wasn’t getting any drugs from his dealer. But he was clearly on something! I bet it was animal tranquilizers. That crafty crackie probably wandered around rehab naked hoping someone would mistake him for an albino grizzly bear and call animal control. Then he’d sit back, relax, and wait for the drugs to be delivered directly into his neck via tranquilizer dart.

Lea Michele Admits That She’s Been Boozing Since She Was A Toddler

Lea Michele, the Peanut M&M to Anne Hathaway’s Plain, admitted to the Queen B of future acute liver failure Chelsea Handler Thursday night that she’s been sipping on the good stuff since she was in diapers. Chelsea Handler, who currently wears diapers to prevent making a mess on the couch when she inevitably blacks out and pisses herself, must have given her a “so what?” face.

“I’m Italian, so at the dinner table it would be like Pellegrino, a jug of soda and a huge thing of wine. Everyone was just drinking wine, like it was part of what you would have along with your dinner. Growing up, I’d be having dinner with my boyfriend and his parents and I’d be like, ‘Where’s the wine? Pass the wine.’ At like 17! And they’re like, ‘This girl’s crazy.'”

But before you start imagining a wine-wasted Lea drunkenly crawling onto the dinner table and slurring out Rose’s Turn from Gypsy in front of her boyfriend’s parents, she says it wasn’t like that.

“When they make it so you can have it, then you don’t want it. It’s when they’re like, ‘You can’t have this,’ kids are like, ‘We gotta get that booze.'”

She’s right though; when booze is locked away in secret, it makes it seem so delicious. When I was a kid, there was a giant bottle of delicous-looking potato vodka in the basement that always seemed to be calling my name. When I finally got up the courage to sneak it into the crawlspace, I was horrified that it smelled like rubbing alcohol and compost. I didn’t end up drinking any, but not because it smelled gross; there were too many Barbie dolls in the crawlspace judging me with their disapproving eyes.

And I think it was maybe a good idea for Lea’s parents to treat booze as not being a big deal. I mean, a sober Lea Michele is next-level annoying as it is, so I don’t want to imagine what we’d get after she sneak-slammed a quart of the hard shit.

Pic: Splash

Channing Tatum Admits That He’s A Bit Of A Lohan When It Comes To Booze

I’m not sure what’s more fascinating to me right now: that GQ managed to find a handsome unfrozen caveman and Photoshop him to look like Channing Tatum, or that 50 Cent is somebody’s life coach. Newsflash, whoever hired 50 Cent to coach their life: never take life advice from someone who repeatedly bumped down-lows with Chelsea Handler. Or someone who’s name loosely translates to “enough for a snack pack of Keebler Cheese & Peanut Butter crackers at the gas station”.

But that nameless rando who chose 50 Cent as a mentor might not be the only one who should pick up the phone and ask Iyanla to fix their life; during an interview with GQ, Channing Tatum – the human definition of “Shhhh, no talking” – admitted that nothing makes his peen-hole smile like sucking the glass dick and getting druuuunk, and not just on the weekends or at lunch like the rest of us:

“I probably drink too much, you know. My wife, that’s what she bought into. I’m probably a pretty high-functioning, I guess, you know, I would say, alcoholic, I guess. There’s probably a tendency to escape. I equate it to creativity, and I definitely equate it to having a good time.”

This is where I’d normally picture a drunk Channing Tatum stumbling around like the missing link, chugging Baileys from the bottle and busting out some stripper moves before blacking out and pissing his Magic Mike sweatpants, but after reading about Deryck Whibley personal Met Gala elevator fight with the bottle yesterday, Channing Tatum’s constant Quest for Firewater doesn’t seem as funny. Then again, just give me some time. I’m sure by tomorrow, imagining Channing getting next-level hammered and and practicing his Cajun accent will be absolutely delightful.

Here’s more of Chuggin’ Tatum in GQ looking like the second biggest drinker at SC&P (second only to Don Draper’s extra-thirsty trouser tube) in a vaguely 7th season Mad Men-y photo shoot. Then again, it could be any old present-day hipster house. Regardless of what they were going for, I’m sure they had to explain it to Channing Tatum 40+ times before he stopped getting distracted by all the shiny things and started paying attention.

Lindsay Lohan Swears Under Oath That She Totally Had That Miscarriage

Lindsay Lohan is a lying liar with a history of lie-telling, so when she pushed out some salty freckled tears and admitted to suffering a miscarriage in the finale of Lindsay on OWN, most of grabbed a grain of salt and requested she have several seats, because there was a 99% chance (with a 1% margin of error) that the Apricot Ashtray had made the whole thing up as an excuse for fucking around and stalling production, and just generally being a drunk two-legged useless.

Now TMZ says that Lindsay has taken her miscarriage story all the way to a court of law. One year ago, Lohan was sued for $5 million by D.N.A.M. Apparel, the company that made her 6126 line of leggings, for being a dumb drunk druggie mess who made it impossible for them to sell any of her expensive stretch pants. They put the law suit on hold while she went to rehab, but when Lohan was finally released (“Thanks for the vacay, see you next year!”) she failed to respond to the lawsuit, so she lost the case. But because nothing is ever Lohan’s fault and taking responsibility is for suckers, she’s sworn in court documents that the reason for ignoring the lawsuit is this:

“I have been overwhelmed since leaving rehab and dealing with my sobriety and a miscarriage.”

Leave it to the Apricot Ashtray to trot out a miscarriage, phony or not, as an excuse to why she ignored a $5 million lawsuit. Not to mention it was totally unnecessary; she could have just scrawled “I’M A LOHAN” in coke residue all over the court documents, and the judge would have nodded his head in agreement, accepted that as a valid excuse, and thrown out the lawsuit on the grounds of being foolish enough to go into business with Lindsay Lohan.

And speaking of coke heads, according to The Sunday Times, the party rats of Britain snort so much blow that their coke-piss has contaminated the drinking water. Upon hearing the news that Britain has tuned into a real-life Willy Wonka land of cocaine drinking fountains, Lohan frantically packed a suitcase and high-tailed it across the pond, where for the first time in her life when she says she’s drinking water she’ll actually be drinking water. Here’s more of Lohan and a poor dog in London, who no doubt died of an overdose after posing with her, as well as Lohan posing with the owner of G-A-Y, Jeremy Joseph, and his dog Jacob, who’s probably fine because he’s built up a high-tolerance from years of drinking coke-piss out of the toilets.

Pics: Splash, Wenn

Toronto Mayor Rob Ford Got Into A Fight With Justin Bieber At A Club

What a great day to be a Canadian person; the Raptors beat the Brooklyn Nets last night, perpetually-sweaty Mayor Rob Ford got busted smoking crack again (even Marion Barry is like “Slow down, man”), and now this: a story about the spoiled skidmark in Canada’s underwear Justin Bieber trying to start shit with a coked-out Rob Ford at a Toronto night club. All this, AND free healthcare? What a country!

According to The Toronto Star, the real-life Hoggish Greedly kicked off his latest crack-filed meltdown about a month ago when he invited 4 men he met hanging around City Hall back to his house (aka The Crack Nest), where he ordered a party bus and took them to Toronto night club Muzik, where he proceeded to “drink to excess”. Although to be fair, a normal person’s “excess” is his “slightly buzzed”.

By this point in the evening, Rob Ford – who has now turned into a drunk messy garbage person (not a radical transformation) – bumps into the toddler prototype of Baby Alive and tries to shake his hand, to which Justin meets with the question “Did you bring any crack to smoke?” Ugh, I know I should hate that bratty toddler, but a tiny part of my soul is cackling with joy over him asking that drunk shithead about smoking crack. I’m so conflicted right now. Anyways, after he joked about smoking crack, Rob Ford turned into Matt Foley motivational speaker and started screaming and ranting, prompting the 4 random guys he brought to the club to drag him back to their private booth, as Justin walked away.

And I’m sure Justin thought he was acting like such a tough badass, but there’s no way he was going to do any ass-kicking that night; Canadians love a good brawl, but even they draw the line at watching a baby and a man who looks like a baby fight each other.

Speaking of Lil’ Badasses, here’s an Alvin and the Chipmunks-looking Justin Bieber holding up traffic in NYC (but if someone told me it was a screen grab of the scene in Blank Check where Preston buys a limo, I’d believe that too):

Pics: Splash