You are browsing the archive for January 2012.
The demure Italian blossom that is Elisabetta Canalis has gone from George Clooney to Eggs from True Blood to Steve-O. So if you were ever in an episode of Jersey Shore or were arrested in front of the Cops cameras once, then you’re in luck, because it won’t be long before Elisabetta downgrades down to your ass for paparazzi attention! – The Superficial
Jennifer Lawrence and the little boy from About A Boy are totally a thing – Lainey Gossip
In possibly related news, Jesus just announced that he’s converting to Buddhism – Celebitchy
Sophie Monk’s face looks like it’s made of watercolors - Hollywood Tuna
This isn’t going to scrub the gay out of him, but rubbing all that dead skin off is going to give this dude GLOWING skin – Towleroad
Mini Anden’s nipple does Bazaar – (NSFW) Drunken Stepfather
Lily Collins loves her five layer eyebrow situation – ICYDK
In “same ole, same ole” news, Ashley Jizzdale looks a mess – Popoholic
BREAKING: Seal is still wearing his wedding ring and still dressing like it’s 1999 - Just Jared
Why does JLo have furry baseball bats on her coat? – Popsugar
Here I am writing a Dlisted post – The Berry
Three words that might make your night:
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Reese Witherspoon hasn’t meant shit to me ever since she stomped her chin on Jake Gyllenhaal’s fairytale wedding dreams, but she has redeemed herself by making the children cry. MTV (via Just Jared) asked Reese what she thinks about Justin Bieber remaking Fear and she could’ve let out some sugar coated publicist-approved bullshit, but instead she said this:
“Fine. Great. That would be cool. Would he be playing me or is he playing Mark Wahlberg?”
DONE.
Reese then tried to make it sound like what she really meant is that he’ll play a dude with a girl stalker, but CHIN please. Oh, Reese, when you’re fighting off the rattle-wielding, mouth foaming Beliebers with your chin, just know that you’re everyone’s hero for today for this afternoon for this hour.
via The Superficial
Doesn’t it seem like just yesterday the media was asking a young Daniel Radcliffe what kind of Legos he likes to play with (or whatever) and now the media is asking him about how he likes his coochie. They grow up so fast. DanRad and Heat Magazine (via Entertainmentwise) were talking about how he let his Jewish peen bush be great in Equus and that somehow led to him confessing that if he’s not pulling pubes off his tongue, he’s not messing with it:
“This is way too much information, but I don’t like girls with nothing down there either. It freaks me out. You have to have something, otherwise it’s fucking creepy,”
And now we know that DanRad has licked on a hairless skin mitten and it was creepy to his ass because it was like sucking on a hairless armadillo’s armpit or giving a raspberry to a plate of dried mangos. THANKS, Harry Potter. But I’m with him. Genital shrubs are there for a reason. It gives you something to look at while you’re down there and it sometimes protects your nose. What if you’re really getting into it and you accidentally scrape your nose on their crotch stubble. It can happen! A good day would be not having to explain to people that the scratch on your nose is from rubbing up against the stubble patch on your piece’s crotch.
Like Jennifer Aniston when Justin Theroux seriously asked her out on a date without saying PSYCH! afterward, Kristen Bell was filled so much potent happiness over meeting a sloth that she melted into a puddle of joy before the sloth drank her up with a straw (that’d probably make her life).
Seriously, Veronica Mars showed Ellen a clip (skip to the 2:00 mark) of her having a melodramatic meltdown after her piece Dax Shepard introduced her to a sloth on her birthday. OVER A SLOTH! It’s not like the sloth sang her a Stacey Q song or brought her a plate of Chocodiles (Why don’t they make Chocodiles anymore?). It was just a sloth being a sloth. Veronica Mars is fucking crazy. Although, if you woke up next to Dax’s face every morning, you too would be so vulnerable that your raw emotions would spin out of control at the drop of a SLOTH. This is your “crying over cat videos while on your period” moment on speed.
And I’m totally changing Birthday Sluts to Birthday Sloths.
Water is wet, I flicked at my nipple while using the neti pot this morning, Tommy Girl took his toast with a thick layer of nut butter and Lindsay Lohan allegedly snorted her way to fucked up and back on Sunday night. The headline “Lindsay Lohan Gets Loaded at Chateau Marmont” is about as shocking as the headline “Angelina Jolie Only Ate Air Today,” but let’s hear what Radar has to say about this mess anyway. Radar’s source claims that at a SAG Awards party at Chateau Marmont on Sunday night, Blohan slurred her words and her eyes were so damn glassy that you could’ve cut a line on them. Apparently, she tried to look like the epitome of sober by only sipping on water, but her coke burnt nose told a different story. So said the source:
“Lindsay was spotted going to the restroom with a male companion on numerous occasions in a short amount of time. When the two of them emerged from the bathroom, Lindsay was giggling and her nose appeared red. Lindsay was spotted only drinking water in the lounge area, but she appeared to be loaded on something, and she seemed under the influence. Lindsay’s eyes were glassy and her pupils were constricted. [She] was definitely on something. She was slurring her words, and needed help walking at one point in the course of the night. Lindsay was
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Vanity Fair(Skin) pushed our their annual Hollywood issue were they spread the supposedly freshest and hottest shit all over their cover. This year they put Rooney Mara, Mia Wasikowska, Jennifer Lawrence and Jessica Chastain on the cover, and pushed the non-troll Olsen, Elisabeth Olsen, Adepero Oduye, Shailene Woodley, Paula Patton, Felicity Jones, Phil Collins’ daughter and Brit Marling to the side.
You know, this issue is supposed to be the WHO’S FUCKING WHO of Hollywood, but mostly it’s just the WHO?NOREALLYWHO? of Hollywood. And it was wrong of me to say that there are only two non-white girls here, because it’s well known that Rooney Mara is half Vulcan and half Hot Topicanese.
In a court room in L.A. yesterday, a judge watched as two pretty faces slowly contorted into every layer of crazy as Gabriel Aubrey and Halle Berryberrycrazee tried to turn down their own insanity while discussing the custody of their daughter Nahla. A hearing was called last week after Nahla’s nanny accused Gabriel of pushing her during an argument. Halle asked the court to temporarily take away Gabriel’s visitation rights until the whole “nanny beating” thing cleared up. The judge didn’t do that, but after a long ass meditation hearing, they all agreed to do the following:
- Gabriel will go to anger management classes where he’ll learn that every time he feels like he wants to rage at a trick, he needs to stop, drop his panties and roll on over to the nearest webcam to give all of us a show.
- Halle will continue her own therapy sessions, or she’ll be framed for Gabriel’s death and will be forced to spend the rest of her life in an insane asylum with an ugly-fied Penelope Cruz in a jacked up wig.
- Halle and Gabriel will regularly meet with a third party to calmly talk about how they should raise their child. The third party will be given one of those Hunger Games suicide pills just in case their sanity can’t take facing a two-headed beast of lunacy.
- 3-year-old Nahla
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At this point, any pictures of Madge are no longer eligible for a Photoshop Award, because the skin on her face is Photoshopped in real life since its pores have been filled with wax and it gets its manufactured youthful glow from daily injections of rare fetus sperm. So even though nothing on this vowel-hating album cover was made from nature, it doesn’t count!
Before my dad became allergic to mailing child support checks and dropped off the face of my life, I used to stay at his apartment in West Coveeeeeena once or twice a month. In the bathroom next to the couch I slept on, he had this 70s glass shower door that looked like that cover above. It was beveled and shit. It was kind of a horror show, because I could barely make out what was on the other side. So if Psycho took place in my dad’s apartment (if you met my stepmother at the time, you’d agree that it very well could have) and the killer had an Express Yourself-era Madonna face, this cover is what you’d see right before she opened the door and thrust her memaw crotch sending your soul scurrying down the drain.
Even though this cover looks like a flyer for an after-hours club that someone taped over one of the urinals in the bathroom of a gay bar, I don’t hate it. If it was a flyer, I’d even use it to floss the pubes out of my teefs.
If you drive by any random clinic in L.A. this morning, you’ll probably see Paula Abdul trying to break into one of those locked tin boxes in front of the door, because she needs a quick hit of something medically strong to strangle the feeling of rejection that took over her body after getting fired by Simon Cowell AGAIN! Deadline said last night that the producers of The X-Factor deported Steve Jones back to the UK, sent the defected Apollonia impersonator Nicole Scherzinger back to the Prince factory from which she came from and threw a Percocet into the forest so Paula Abdul could chase after it and get lost. Simon pink-slipped all three of them and is only keeping L.A. Reid as a judge for next season.
FOX confirmed last night that both Steve Jones and Nicole Shitsinger’s second season contracts were executed, but they haven’t said anything about Paula. TMZ is hearing that Paula heard from a lawyer close to the show that she was about to get the BITCH GOT FIRED card and Simon hasn’t called her yet to tell her the news. What a cold cunt Simon is. How could he not take the news, wrap it in ludes dough and then gently feed it to Paula? Simon could’ve at least shaved the words “you’re fired” into his furry tit
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