Aretha Franklin Is Not Here For The Chicken

The likes of Aretha Franklin, Basement Baby, Meryl Streep, Anna Wintour, Olivia Wilde, Michael Kors and Andy Cohen all paid $40,000 a plate to pass through a mob of protesters (okay, there were like 4) to eat dinner at the Obama fundraiser at Sarah Jessica Parker’s multi-million dollar West Village stall last night. Most stayed through dinner, listened to Obama’s speech, did tequila shots off of Michael Kors’ muffin top belly button with Michelle Obama, played a game of Pin the Tail on the SJP and “accidentally” wandered into SJP’s shoe closet to “accidentally” steal some of her shit. But not Queen Aretha!

The light in SJP’s dining room dimmed about 20 minutes into the event when Aretha picked up her glowing chichi domes and got out of that bitch. TMZ was outside of SJP’s townhouse and they caught Aretha leaving 20 minutes after showing up. Aretha told them that food was “impressive” and they served “chicken with a mustard sauce, diced tomatoes and a lot of relishes on the side of the plate.” Oh, Aretha left real early, because she had more important places to be. Specifically, important places that didn’t only serve chicken. Really, chicken?! I know it was a fundraiser, but $40,000 for some shit you can find in the C-Town freezer section if you train your eyes to look for the words “Healthy Choice Chicken Cacciatore.” For $40,000, I want eat some dolphin caviar sushi off of Obama’s naked body in a champagne room that serves more than just Andre.

I bet Aretha snuck a few dinner rolls in her pocketbook to make up for the cheap ass meal.

This reminds me of when I went on a cruise with my mom and on the first night I sat in the dining room with her while wearing a sweatshirt with a swan playing a baby blue ukulele on it. Okay, I wasn’t wearing that sweatshirt, but I just wanted to see if I could make that sentence even gayer. There was this old lady wearing a dusty blond wig at the table next to ours. One of her dinner mates asked her if she was going to have the chicken or the beef. Ole’ girl was not playing when she said, “I can get chicken at home, honey. I’m here for the beef.“

And that’s how my favorite line to use at gay bars was born.

Guess Who Didn’t Come To Dinner?

Stacy Keibler was supposed to be glued to George Clooney’s arm at last night’s White House Correspondents’ Dinner, but I guess negotiations between their lawyers to extend her escort contract past awards season broke down, because the three things missing last night were her 50 foot-long legs and her plastered on fake smile. George came SANS an escort, but who needs a cocktail waitress or lady wrestler or Italian cokehead as a date when you’ve got Barbara Walters? Barbara was so excited to be squeezed up against George Clooney that her old lady juices overflowed up into her face and coagulated into a Juvederm-like substance. That isn’t plastic in Barbara’s cheeks. That’s an orgasm!

George mostly spent his night charming ladies, having intimate moments with wine bottles and showing us what he would do if he was ever left alone in a room with his second holemate (after Brad Pitt): Michael Fassbender’s peen.

And in case you missed it, here’s the White House Correspondents’ Dinner’s prom king, President Obama, doing some stand-up comedy shit at last night’s party (click here to see Jimmy Kimmel’s act):

And here’s even more pictures of even more hos at last night’s dinner: Babs,George, Michelle Obama, President Obama, Jimmy Kimmel, Reese Witherspoon, Elizabeth Banks, Paul Rudd, Sofia Vergara, Uggie with Diane Sawyer, Aziz Ansari and Callistabot with Newt. And if you’re thinking to yourself, “But Michael, was so and so there?” The answer is YES. YES, because everybody was fucking there. Everybody!

Hide Your Jewelry, Michelle Obama, Here Comes LiLo!

Fine silverware will be traded for Dixie plastic sporks and an open bar will be traded for a pitcher of water at the White House Correspondents Dinner this year, because Lindsay Lohan will show up as a guest of Greta Van Susteren. LiLo will join an illustrious list of past White House Correspondent Dinner guests that includes Kim Kardashian, Bristol Palin, Jeremy Piven, Brooke Burke, Sanjaya, Justin Bieber, Jessica Simpson and Omarosa. I know, reading that list is like visiting the planetarium. So many bright shiny stars! If they were a constellation, their name would be the Orilly (short for the O Rilly These Whores Were Actually Invited To The White House?). Susan Sarandon has no laughs for that.

LiLo’s spokeswhore confirms to The Washington Post that she will be there along with her lawyer Shawn Holley who I’m guessing will be there as a crackheadsitter to make sure that ho doesn’t break a glass over Hillary Clinton’s head for looking at her wrong.

The bad news is that Michelle Obama will have to Super Glue her diamond bracelet to her wrist if she doesn’t want LiLo to snatch it away like the sneaky thief she is. But the good news is that the Secret Service don’t have to go all the way to Colombia to get some leased coochie. This time, the call girl is coming to them!

And here’s LiLo looking like a freshly bloomed marigold at a Star Magazine party in L.A. last night.

President Obama Still Thinks Kanye Is A Jackass

Almost three years ago, President Obama united most of the American people when he said that certified jackass Kanye West was a jackass for popping the rainbow-coated bubble around real-life Anne of Green Gables, Taylor Swift, at the VMAs. Well, some things never change like Hillary Clinton’s devotion to business casual glamour (see: her scrunchie) and Obama’s thoughts on Kanye. While writing an essay for The Atlantic Wire on Kanye West’s transformation into a fishsticks-loving, Macbook-breaking, crazy in the brains musical genius of sorts, writer David Samuels met President Obama at a fundraiser in NYC and asked about Kanye again. David and Obama’s conversation went something like this:

Samuels: I have a question I want to ask you, Mr. President

Obama: Sure.

Samuels: Kanye or Jay-Z?

Obama: Jay-Z. Although I like Kanye. He’s a Chicago guy. Smart. He’s very talented.

Samuels: Even though you called him a jackass?

Obama: He is a jackass. But he’s talented.

I see you trying to get your approval ratings to hit the clouds, Obama. Seriously, Obama could get re-elected for a history-making four more terms by running on this platform and this platform alone. But you know, something in the milk ain’t clean about the Obamas’ love for Jay-Z and Beyonce. First, Michelle Obama declares her love for Beyonce and now Obama is declaring his love for Jay-Z? AND Beyonce has suspiciously (not really) written an open love letter to Michelle Obama? Hmmm….

This reminds me of an e-mail I got from an anti-Jay-Z crazy when I wrote something semi-nice about Beyonce: “MK, what sound do you make when Jay-Z fucks you in the ass with a fat stack of hush money?” (True e-mail.) The answer to that is, I beg him to please direct deposit that fat stack of hush money into my checking account next time, because all the paper cuts in my ass tunnel are screwing up my social life.

Stacy Keibler Who?

Along with the First Lady of the Death Eaters Anna Wintour, Harvey Weinstein and Georgina Chapman, George Clooney was a guest of the Obamas at last night’s White House State Dinner for British prime minister David Cameron and he ate next to Michelle Obama. Stacy Keibler didn’t go with Clooney to that shit last night, because Hollywood escort season (aka awards season) is over and her services as his full-time purse holder are no longer needed. Stacy was there in spirit, though (peep at the beard).

While Sarah Larson gave Stacy a tour of George Clooney’s Halfway House for Reformed Hos, George got lost in the string of blue balls around Michelle’s neck. Stupid ass George Clooney! That dumb bitch was so mesmerized with Michelle’s Smurf pearl necklace that he failed to see that the First Lady couldn’t lift her damn eyelids due to the 30 pounds of eyelashes holding them down. Seriously, those aren’t lashes, those are eyelid anchors. Homegirl needed a helping hand and George was too busy being like, “Durr… durr… purdy balls… shiny balls… I like balls…” George, help an Obama out by prying those lids open with your salad fork. Damn. Does the SEAL Team Six have to do everything?!

Or maybe Michelle wasn’t having a traumatic eyelid experience. Maybe she was wishing herself into a safe place where George Clooney isn’t going on and on about how beautiful, smart and perfect Brad Pitt is…

President Obama Gives An Encore

The last time President Obama serenaded the people, I took a Magic Eraser to that memory, because I didn’t want to accidentally bring it up while talking to my mom. Almost every time Obama’s name comes up, my mom gets fluttery in the voice and I can tell she’s about to go through some changes. That is my cue to pick up and go. It’s like whenever I’m at her house and Anderson Cooper pops up on the TV, she jumps off of her La-Z-Boy and the next thing I hear is her bedroom door shutting, locking and the sound of Julio Iglesias’ greatest hits blasting from her stereo. It’s like that. My mom did bring up Sinatra Obama’s last singing performance and our conversation went something like this:

Mom: Did you see Obama singing the other night?

Me: Um…um… Yish, but Anderson Cooper’s on my TV right now!

Mom: *click*

So I’m not exactly amused with President Obama for picking up the mic at the White House’s all-star blues concert last night and singing out a few lines of “Sweet Home Chicago” with BB King and Mick Jagger. Obama is just fucking with me now. If Obama gets re-elected and keeps singing out, it’s going to be a long four years of awkward moments and phone hang-ups. Obama’s new motto should be: Yes, I Can Make You Reach For The Brain Clorox As I Make Your Momma Go Through Some Changes.