Halsey is one of the music industry’s most frequent red carpet messes, so it’s not a surprise that she would show up to the Billboard Music Awards last night in an outfit that says: “Book my stylist the next appointment at the nearest Pearle Vision.”
That bra is all kinds of tragic. It’s both too big and too small, like some kind of physics-defying underwire nightmare. If that bra could talk, it would beg Halsey to leave it at home and take a set of nipple pasties instead. On the upside, it is nice to see that someone finally purchased the most discounted bra from the clearance section of Ross. But don’t cry for Halsey’s bra. I see a bright future for it. I bet an agent has already signed it to appear as the uncomfortable before bra in an Ahh Bra infomercial.
A lot of puffy pecs were reportedly in an uproar on the set of (I can barely type the awful name of this movie) The Fate Of The Furious last summer. The Rock vague-Instagrammed about someone being Public Asshole #1 on the set, and it was fairly obvious he was referencing fellow balding diva, Vin Diesel. Vin shot back by promising he would spill the tea on their roidy catfighting. That never really happened, but it doesn’t matter now, because it appears that both of them are past it.
Puppy-saving human Redwood tree trunk The Rock dropped a beautiful blind item on Instagram yesterday when he went in on a chicken shit actor (or actors) who pissed him off more than seeing a number higher than 7% on a body fat calculator does. The Rock is finishing up shooting the 133,459th Fast & Furious movie, and in his goodbye note on Instagram, he praised his lady-co stars and also praised a few of his dude co-stars before taking an angry shit on unprofessional candy asses. And when The Rock shits on you, it leaves a bruise, because his turds have 12-packs and biceps.
The great philosopher, Dr. Abba, when speaking on the nature of the world and humanity, wrote,
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man’s world
Money, money, money
In the rich man’s world
Never do these insightful words ring more truthfully than when one takes a keen eye to the spending habits of rich celebs. What are they buying? Who are they buying it for? Would I buy that if I had their money? From matching Hummers to skin cream made of foreskin, the list is endless. Often times we roll our eyes at the sight of the lavish shit they buy, but sometimes, rarely, the dull hum of life makes way for an overwhelming “YES!” Such is the case before us today.
Ludacris posted this on Instagram:
Personally, I’m giving him 10s across the board. Who doesn’t want to rent out the entire theatre so they can be as messy and loud as possible? Imagine the possibilities: Set up a buffet. Yell at the screen. Undo the button on your pants because you’ve eaten too much. And don’t get me started on what a joy it would be to let rip those farts that always seem to only happen when you’re surrounded by strangers. The theatre would be my palace and the farts would be my kingdom!
(Note from Michael: Wait, unbuttoning your pants and farting while in a theater full of people is a no no? Is that why most of the theaters around me say to me, “Err, it’s you again, um, all of our showings our sold out forever,” when I try to buy tickets? It all makes sense now.)
Pics: Wenn.com, Instagram
I know, how dare I compare singer Charli XCX and her messy pile of black mosquito netting to the exquisite goth glamour of shameless true blue slut Morticia Addams. I’m honestly hanging in my head in shame. And quite frankly, so should Charli XCX; the bar for pseudo-gothic skanky side-boob was set pretty high by Rose McGowan, so unless you’re planning on showing up in nothing but a thong and two spiders glued to your nipples, don’t even bother.
But because I believe in giving credit where credit’s due, Charli XCX gets a single clap of approval from me for at least trying to inject some trampy glamour into the 2014 Bill-bored Music Awardzzzz. The Tai to Iggy Azalea’s Cher must have had to check her invitation four times to see if she was at the right event, because everyone showed up to the Billboard Awards in Las Vegas in fancy-ass ball gowns and Grace Kelly-looking hair like it was the damn Oscars. Which is all kinds of “excuse you, bitch”-levels of wrong, because if any award show held in Las Vegas is on par with the Oscars, it’s the AVN Awards (DUH). Charl XCX is clearly wiser than her 21 years; she understood that the Billboard Awards are the Grammy Award’s nitrous-huffing burnout cousin and dressed appropriately.
Here’s more of Charli XCX wearing Hot Topic’s version of the slut dress (“Can you check in the back to see if we have any more of those Edgar Allan Poe-job dresses?”) at the Billboring Awardzzzz, as well as her partner in copyright infringement Iggy Azalea who chose classy over trashy (bad move, always choose trashy if you’ve got the ass for it), Jennifer Lopez showing us what the unedited pictures of her A.K.A. album cover looked like before she destroyed all evidence of their existence, the gas station bath salts Grace Kelly Kesha, Kanye’s old My Size Barbie Amber Rose in a pair of your Memaw’s solar shields, JOSH “oh, the things I would so would” GROBAN, and a super jacked-looking wig with guest (guest: Chrissy Teigen).