I know Dame Judi Dench is reportedly losing her eye sight, but surely she’s able to see that the cheerleading squad for Kevin Spacey and Harvey Weinstein isn’t exactly the side you want to be on. Still, Dame Judi Dench is back to ask the question: won’t somebody please think of Kevin and Harvey’s film legacies?!?
I don’t think I’ve heard news this devastating since McDonald’s stopped making the McDLT back in the 80s, but it’s true. Sweethearts, the original text message of the candy world, will not be making a return this year for Valentine’s Day. Now my only question is how will people know you love them if you don’t hand them out a chalky-tasting colored heart that reads: Wanna Do it?
We learned yesterday, thanks to her recent interview with Vanity Fair, Angelina Jolie had probably traumatized a bunch of poor kids (no literally, poor orphans and circus children) while casting for her film First They Killed My Father in Cambodia. According to a human rights expert, there’s more not-great things to know about that film shoot.
Is anyone else super distracted by the gorgeous eyelashes on the human angel hovering over Mama June’s left shoulder? Just me? Ok.
Ketchup-dipped deep-fried mother of the year Mama June has been on the receiving end of some unwanted Facebook attention. You know, aside from the never-ending FarmVille requests and direct messages from prisoners that begin with “Hey, so I’m up for parole at the end of the month…“. According to TMZ, a dude named Andrew Kurt Summers threatened to shoot both Mama June and her daughter Pumpkin on Facebook. TMZ says Mama June told them she takes threats against her family very seriously (“Oh shit, we’re next!” screamed type 2 diabetes), so she called the cops.
But the police didn’t have to work very hard to find Andrew Kurt Summers; he turned himself in on Monday, and was later released on $15,000 bail. He now faces a charge of making “terroristic threats.” But Andrew Kurt Summers tells TMZ that he didn’t actually want to shoot Mama June and Pumpkin; according to Andrew, he left the comment about shooting Mama June and Pumpkin as a “joke” after hearing she was maybe dating a child molester and deciding to troll her Facebook page.
No word on who bailed Andrew Kurt Summers out, but my guess is it was Mama June. What? Andrew Kurt Summers is totally her type: a shady-looking dirtbag who is a danger to her children.
Ever since Shakira set off a million alarms and raised a billion red flags when she said in an interview that her boyfriend, Gerard Piqué, “no longer lets her” film music videos with other dudes, I’ve been not-so-secretly hoping that Iyanla would step in, sit her down, and fix her life. But Iyanla is currently on retainer in case Oprah needs help fixing the most unfixable life, which is no good, because Shakira keeps telling us more about that Mary J. Blige song she calls a relationship and she’s not watching the numerous copies of Sleeping with the Enemy we’ve sent her.
During the release party for her new self-titled album (which I was surprised wasn’t titled ‘Gerard Piqué’s Woman’), Shakira tried to clarify to E! News those statements that painted her boyfriend as a possessive, controlling, jealous asshole. Ah, damage control; my favorite of the controls (sorry Janet):
“I have rules, too. It’s two sides, you know. He can’t do stuff with models either!”
Yeah okay. Where I come from, that’s just called “not cheating”. But then Shakira said something that sounds like the IMDB description of the movie Fear:
“We’re one of those asphyxiating couples, smothering each other all the time. It’s good when your man’s protective of you. He’s a defender. He defends the goal. That is his job, so he knows how to do that well.”
Now, I’m no expert, but if you’re in a healthy relationship, you usually don’t describe your partner using murder words like ‘smothering’ or ‘asphyxiating’, right? Every time Shakira is asked about Gerard, her answers sound like dialogue that’s written for a victim on Law & Order: SVU. Attention, Shakira: I don’t want to see you explaining to Detective Olivia Benson why Gerard took away your phone (“He doesn’t like knowing other men are texting me!”), is making you wear a GPS (“He always wants to know where I am!”), and why he no longer allows you to speak unless spoken to (“He’s so protective of my vocal cords!”).
DJ? More like STDJ. More like Dick Jockey. More like unwanted BJ. More like Diseased Junk. More like DJ Dumb Skank. More like Dear Jesus: Why Is This Bitch Still Relevant? I could do this forever, but I doubt any of us have drank the shit from Death Becomes Her that makes you immortal, so I’ll stop and move on.
In a video courtesy of TMZ, a brave cameraman put on his best hazmat suit and approached Paris Hilton to ask her about how successful her – violent eye roll – DJ career is. And holy shit, did we get one of the most delusional sound bites of 2013:
DJ CVS-Brand Valtrex: New Years, I’m playing in Vegas at the Bellagio Hotel at Hyde.
TMZ: How lucrative is that?
DJ CVS-Brand Valtrex: I’m one of the Top 5 in the world, so…
It’s true, though. Say what you will about Paris Hilton, but she is an accomplished woman who holds several Top 5 records, including the Top 5 Reasons the Deaf Are Thankful and the Top 5 Ways Your Dick Could Rot Off (#2 under Leprosy).
TMZ later spoke to a source close to Paris, who backed up the validity of Paris’s claim, stating that she makes between $100K and $350K an hour DJ-ing. However, Forbes released their second-annual list of 2013’s highest-paid DJ’s, and Paris was notably absent. Ipso fucking facto, Parasite’s claim that she’s one of the Top 5 DJ’s in the World is bullshit. Unless Skrillex, Deadmau5, and Steve Aoki just died in a The Day The Shitty Music Died-style airplane crash and every remaining DJ retired out of respect, she’s still years away from cracking the Forbes Top 5,000 DJ’s list (and that includes your slow cousin fucking around on Pro Tools). But by then, she’ll have gotten bored with DJ-ing and will have moved on to a new hobby to be shitty at, like painting or being a mom (oh god, NO NO NO).
(Pic via Splash)