Nicki Minaj Claims She Was Put In Twitter Jail And Got A Personal Invitation From The White House To Talk About Vaccines (But Both Deny Her Claims)
Nicki Minaj’s publicist must be snorting the chunkiest lines of crushed-up Ibuprofen in between taking a sledgehammer to every communication device they own because just in the past few days, she’s managed to get into a fight with Twitter, the White House, and Trinidad’s Health Minister over the COVID-19 misinformation she’s been sharing with her 22.7 million Twitter followers. To think, many of us thought we were all past international incidents brought on by an inflamed nutsack, but I guess not.
Bella Thorne is Lindsay Lohan’s successor in meth (I meant to type “successor in messiness” but that works too) and Scott Disick is the Brandon Davis of our time (aka a glob of douche discharge that we’d all probably do and live to regret after getting our gonorrhea results from the free clinic), so these two train wrecks were bound to crash into each other. This is probably going to end with Scott calling Bella a “firecrotch” to the paparazzi as whoever is the Parasite Hilton of our time (Hailey Baldwin? The Cash Me Ousside Girl? jiffpom?) cackles behind him.
R. Kelly, the most dangerous water sport device to happen to kids since the Slip ‘N Slide, has been sued by a deputy sheriff in Jackson, Mississippi for allegedly being the wrecking ball who destroyed his marriage. Kenny Bryant claims that R. Kelly caused him emotional pain and even messed with his money by having an affair with his wife whose name is Asia Childress. The shocking part is that Asia isn’t underage, but she does have the word “child” in her last name.
John Mayer either whispered something semi-romantic like, “Tell your pharmacy to get the Valtrex ready because I’m going to fuck the herp into that puss tonight,” or something really romantic like, “My David Duke cock wants to fuck the Mexican out of that multi-racial puss.”
Demi Lovato’s coochie may have missed the steady diet of douche dick she got before breaking up with Wilmer Valderrama, because UsWeekly thinks that maybe she’s moved on to John Mayer. John and Demi showed up separately to a restaurant called Catch (John Mayer at a restauranted called Catch = TOO EASY) in L.A. on Saturday night, but once they both got inside, they sat next to each other and he supposedly blew a sweet Summer’s Eve breeze into her ear while wrapping his arm around her.
Oh booze, sweet booze. The sweet nectar can be a delicious and wonderful thing, but sometimes it leads you down a dark, destructive path where you wake up with half of your face burned off because the booze screwed with your decision-making skills and you thought it would be a really good idea to eat out Parasite Hilton. I’m assuming Henry Cavill’s plastered as shit in these pictures, but he could also have the dizzies from breathing in the toxic fumes wafting off of Wonky McValtrex.
Last night, W Magazine threw a party at the Chateau Marmont where Henry partied with Chris Evans and Gillian Anderson. I already screamed out, “Fuck you, Gillian,” at Gillian on behalf of all of us for being the cheese in that Double Down man sandwich. As Lainey at Lainey Gossip points out, Henry ignored the “Stay Away From Wonky” fliers that the Department of Health hands out when you arrive at LAX and got into an SUV with Paris Hilton after the party. This could be nothing, but then again, Henry (or his publicists) can really pick ’em.
Nobody saw this one coming. We all thought Superman would meet his tragic demise by the hand of Lex Luthor or from a deadly case of thrush (which he got from wearing those damn sweaty tights all the time). Nobody would’ve ever guessed that Superman would turn green and melt into a puddle of smegma after wet humping on Parasite Hilton’s kryptokooch. I bet she’s working for Lex Luthor. Look at her hiding in the shadows (and that attention whore NEVER does that) with an evil smirk on her face. Bitch knows what she’s doing.
Pics: Getty, Splash
I’m pretty sure that’s how Contagion started.
In the war room of the CDC, top scientists and infectious diseases specialists are working on a plan to drop a quarantine tent around the entire state of Florida before the super STD that was born yesterday morning crosses state lines and destroys us all. Art Basel, the Coachella for the art world, is happening in Miami right now and so many celebrity gutter tramps are currently terrorizing Florida. E! News says that a CDC nightmare was created at the Miami club E11EVEN early yesterday morning when Miley Cyrus’ toxic yeast rod of a tongue made its way into Wonky McValtrex’s mouth. To quote whoever wrote on that wall in 28 Days Later: REPENT/THE END IS/EXTREMELY/FUCKING/NIGH!
Several sources tell E! that after Jeremy Scott’s Moschino Barbie party, Miley dragged her silent twink boy toy Patrick Schwarzenegger to E11EVEN where they met up with Wonky. Since Miley Cyrus would stick her tongue in a naked mole rat’s asshole if it got her attention and Wonky is forever a 16-year-old straight girl who thinks making out with other girls at the club is ~edgy~, those two cochinas mouth fucked. It’s Valtrex’s answer to Taylor and Karlie.
The massive celeb-studded party that is Art Basel Miami showed no signs of dying down last night (or this morning), with Miley Cyrus and Paris Hilton keeping the anything-goes action going by making out in the wee hours at E11EVEN, a cabaret/nightclub in South Beach, multiple sources tell E! News.
As Patrick watched, he thought to himself, “Gurrrl, better Wonks than me.”
If you put a microscope magnifying glass up to Miley and Wonky’s mouths as they made out, it probably looked like the Battle of Gettysburg. All those strains of diseases battling each other. I wonder which one won out? I’m going with herpes.
And here’s Miley transferring Wonky’s saliva to Patrick while hanging out with twink pilgrim Cody Simpson at some restaurant in Miami Beach.
Pics: Splash, Getty