Taylor Swift Gave Her New Cat A Perfect Name

Human soft-serve ice cream cone Taylor Swift proved she’s one cat closer to her very own butterscotch-scented Scottish Fold pussy army by posting a picture to Instagram yesterday of her newest Scottish Fold cat, who she’s named after her favorite Law & Order: SVU character, Olivia Benson. Personally, I’m a little disappointed that she didn’t name it “Meow-whisker Hargitay”, but you take an SVU reference where you can get it.

Olivia Benson is Taylor’s second cat, the first being Meredith Grey, who was named after her favorite character from Grey’s Anatomy. This sort of reminds me of when people give up smoking and replace cigarettes with Pop Tarts; except Taylor has replaced chasing barely-legal boys with collecting cats and naming them after television shows found on your mom’s DVR. The next thing you know she’ll be posting a picture of a third cat named after the designer from Love It or List It and asking if you’ve seen the lovely slacks that are on sale at Chico’s.

I’ll throw shade for days at Taylor for naming her first cat after Meredith from Grey’s Anatomy, but I’ll give her 10 loud YAAASSSSSS-es and 5 ‘hands up’ emojis for naming the second cat after the greatest pervert-busting detective of all time. She shouldn’t be surprised if she comes home one day to find Olivia Benson in a little leather jacket with a tiny NYPD badge clipped to the waist of her itty bitty kitty dress pants with a caramel-colored hair extension on her head, trying to convince the next-door neighbor’s cat to testify against the Shih Tzu who attacked them in Central Park.

Pic: Instagram

Robert Downey Jr. Is A Dad Again

In a hospital room in L.A. somewhere, a newborn baby is staring into the face of Iron Man while secretly wishing that his daddy will introduce him to ScarJo’s magnificent chichi balls. People says that Robert Downey Jr.’s wife Susan birthed out a 7lb 5oz, 20-inch long (because I know you were wondering how long their baby is) baby son in L.A. this morning. RDJ has been Sherlock Holmes for way too long, because the motherfucker thinks he’s British now. RDJ and Susan named their new baby friend Exton Elias. EXTON ELIAS. Exton is going to coo in a British accent, will force his nanny to push his stroller on the left side of the sidewalk and has probably already been knighted as a Sir by Queen Elizabeth.

Exton is RDJ and Susan’s first kid together. He has an 18-year-old son named Indio. RDJ’s rep said this generic shit to People:

“Everyone is healthy and they couldn’t be happier.”

Just once I’d like the rep to say that everyone is sick, miserable and hating each other.

When I say the name “Exton” out loud, it sort of sounds like the name of a driver on Downton Abbey or like the name of a rejected Harry Potter character. But when I say it in my head, it sounds like the name of a discount oil company that is hoping cross-eyed hos and drunk bitches mistake the name of their gas station for EXXON. And you know the kids are going to call him Sexton.

Work Those Invisible Dicks, Sugar Tits, Work ‘Em!

That’s the spirit, Mad Mel. If you can’t get a trick to blow you before Jacuzzi, do the blowing yourself. I’ve said it before, if you can’t beat ’em, blow ’em, but Mad Mel went above and beyond by blowing and beatin’ them at the same time!

Last night in Beverly Hills, the roof of The Beverly Hilton almost cracked and exploded into space from the force of a million swollen egos when Mel Gibson, Sean Penn, Jennifer Aniston, Justin Theroux and Jodie Foster all gathered in one ballroom to honor Robert Downey Jr.’s contribution to American cinema. And by “contribution” they really mean his role in Weird Science.

After Sean Penn, Jennifer Aniston and Mel Gibson all licked on RDJ’s taint by showering him with kind words, he used his time on stage to defend his friend Mel. Oh here go hell come….

“This is my fuckin’ time. Mel and I have the same lawyer, same publicist and same shrink. I couldn’t get hired and he cast me. He said if I accepted responsibility – he called it hugging the cactus – long enough my life would take meaning and if he helped me I would help the next guy. But it was not reasonable to assume the next guy would be him.

Unless you are without sin, and if you are you are in the wrong fucking industry, you should forgive him and let him work.”

Don’t tell us what to do, RDJ….unless you’re about to tell us to nibble your nipples in a gentle manner.

The way I see it there’s three kind of people:

1. The people who won’t forgive Mel Gibson, because he’s an anti-Semitic canker sore on a dehydrated asshole and just when they start to feel like he’s changed his crusty mouth shits out another racist nugget. The glum cunt just keeps fucking up and he can’t even get a blowjob!

2. The people who have forgiven Mel Gibson and can watch his movies without seeing him as the lady-abusing, anti-Semitic canker sore on a dehydrated asshole that he really is.

3. The people who have looked under the bed, searched the cushions of their sofa, checked the back of their fridges and still can’t find one fuck to give about Mel Gibson.

Even if we were all #1 people, Mel’s dumb stupid busted ass would still be fine. The shitbag has millions and a Jacuzzi jet to keep him company for the rest of his days. RDJ should’ve saved his words for somebody who really deserves them, like his Soapdish co-star Cathy Moriarty. Now that is a bitch who really needs a major movie comeback in a big way!

Here’s more pictures from last night’s American Cinematheque Awards. I wish there was a picture of Sean Penn and Mel Gibson together. Together they would look like a wrinkly and crusty old man nutsack glistening under a tanning bed light.

Nerd Creamer Of The Day: The Avengers In NYC

In case you missed it, here’s ScarJo, Jeremy Renner, Chris Pine, Robert Downey Jr., Mark Ruffalo and Chris Hemsworth playing dress up on the NYC set of The Avengers on Saturday morning.

You know, if you took everything I know about The Avengers and used it to power your American flag finger vibrator this Labor Day, you’d be the opposite of patriotic because that shit wouldn’t bust out one tingle due to the fact that I know absolutely nothing about The Avengers. Nothing. I don’t know what their damn costumes do. I don’t know why they’re running around. I don’t know why Jeremy Renner is dressed like a top at a gay leather bar who carries skinny starter dildos in a wine bottle carrier just in case he runs into a trainee bottom who needs a little assistance in the loosening up department. I don’t know!

But I do know that The Avengers desperately needs the bulge budget that Superman has.

The Third Party “Over The Moon” Watch

Well, I guess even Robert Downey Jr.’s wife Susan Downey has that one chismeando auntie who always sits right next to the food table at family reunions to scoop up the gossip with her ear holes so that she can pour it out later through her mouth hole to her husband as he eats the smashed piece of sheet cake she brought him because a stupid soccer game was on TV and he wasn’t even trying to go to that party.

(Side rant: Whenever my mom brought me a piece of cake from a party, why did she almost always make it “car ride safe” by stuffing it between two Styrofoam plates before wrapping it in Reynolds? The frosting would always end up on one plate, and the cake on the other. When cake and frosting get together, they’re in it until the end. They aren’t mean to be separated. It’s like giving me a hard dick on one plate and its cum shot on the other. It makes no sense. Cake and frosting work together to make a beautiful special moment and when you tear them apart, you’re just fucking with nature. There’s got to be a better way.

And if you’re about to say to me, “But Michael, what about those individual cake piece containers from Tupperware you can buy at Target,” then I’m about to throw you a lip smack and an eye roll on behalf of my entire family. Individual cake piece containers? Bitch, stop. We’re not a family of Martha Fucking Stewarts. As far as I know, Juan Pollo, the place we get all of our family reunion food, does not provide you with individual cake piece containers. I KNOW! How uncouthy of them. Although, sometimes I’ll wash off one of the Styrofoam containers the chicken came in and use that to take some cake home. But now we’re Inceptioning this bitch, because we’re about to get into a rant inside of a rant. Let’s just stop now. Put on your lip gloss, plump your chichis and let’s get back to the main event.)

So Susan’s auntie Nancy Miller (it’s ALWAYS a Nancy) called up Radar and whispered into their phone pieces that she knows her niece has got an iron fetus growing in her womb:

“I think it’s wonderful that she’s pregnant. The baby is due in February. Susan’s father, my brother, called me about three weeks ago with the good news. Her parents are over the moon about it. It [doesn’t] really matter if it’s a boy or a girl. What really matters is that the baby is healthy.”

No, Tia Nancy, what really matters is that you’re dribbling out talk about your niece’s uterus situation to hos outside of the family circle and you probably did it for a check. That is ALMOST worse than bringing a bitch smashed cake. But what’s even worse than that is putting an OVER THE MOON violation into the mouths of Susan’s parents. That’s like saying that Susan’s parents put on a pair of CROCS and kicked a kitten in the neck. Just illegalness all around.

This will be RDJ and Susan’s first baby friend together. RDJ has an almost 18-year-old son named Indio. I really hope RDJ keeps with the Riverside County theme and names his new kid La Quinta.

And as I was about to hit publish on this shit, RDJ just confirmed the news with this statement:

“Robert and Susan could not be more excited over this news. They can’t wait to welcome this new baby into their wonderful family.”

But you’re still on notice, Tia Nancy!

And Now Here’s A Kitten Stuck In A Hamster Ball

Hugh Hefner is without a bride/colostomy bag changer, Mildred Baena’s brows are in a sate of tragic, Heidi Bivens just got her man snatched by the world’s famous spinster and yet they should all know that it could be worse. They could be a kitten stuck in a hamster ball.

And no, I would not be surprised if you told me that “pussy stuck in a ball” is the #48 reason for why people go to the emergency room in the middle of the night on a weekend in Northampton, Massachusetts.

via Buzzfeed