I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m bragging but “The Sad Turtle Finds Love” would be a pretty good title for a children’s book. Something about never giving up, and how you never know what this day may hold. 20 minutes before you met the true love of your life, you had no idea that you were about to meet the true love of your life. That day could be today. Jesus Christ I’m gonna be rich.
Point being, Maggie got married this weekend to actor Peter Sarsgaard, who I always think is the professor from “Good Will Hunting” but it’s not. I don’t know who he is. You might try the library, they might know.
One time someone asked me if I was forced would I fuck Maggie or Jake. And I said, “… uh … J …. Maggie.” And then they said well what about just deep kissing. And I said, “aww God dammit”.
Some things to take away from these pictures of Kelly Ripa yesterday, down in Miami with her hunky husband and their three kids, in town to film “Regis and Kelly Live.”
Picture 4 – Yeah, yeah you like that? You like rubbin it all over? Well I got some white stuff you can take on your face right here, baby. It’s the Night Essential moisturizer from Shiseidos “The Skincare” line. It’s so light but Oh – My – God.
Picture 27 – Nice goggles tough-guy. Where’s your water wings and nose clip? I hope they don’t fog up so you can find your inhaler or rape whistle in case of an emergency, you fag. Don’t you have some dishes to wash.
Picture 28 – Look at him, hiding in the shadows, taking pictures of little kids in swimsuits. I think he likes it. Perv.
I’m not sure if this is gonna post either, but if so, you’re getting a nice reminder that you better do exactly what Beyonce wants or she’ll lose it on your ass. In this clip from her show in Rotterdamn, she freaks out for no apparent reason. At the 45 second mark, she sings “Lights! Someone gettin’ fired.” Everything seems okay, it’s not like she was stumbling around with a candle, but whatever. I don’t get it, she seems so friendly on that Nintendo DS commercial. That must have been pulled from 30 hours of her sitting on the couch with her arms crossed as the cameras rolled with the game snapped in half next to her. “Yeah I heard you. You ain’t the boss of me. How bout this, since you so god damn smart, you film the motherfuckin commercial.”
I didn’t think this was the kind of thing beauty pageants did, but apparently it is, because the Miss USA pageant is now confirming that they paid for Miss California (yes that one) to get breast implants before the Miss USA finals. The Huffington Post says…
Friday morning a Miss California Pageant official confirmed previous reports that controversial contestant Carrie Prejean received free breast implants, organized and paid for by the pageant, weeks before the Miss USA competition.
In an interview on “The Early Show,” Keith Lewis, the co-Director of the Miss California Pageant, admitted to helping Prejean get the boob job.
“We assisted when Carrie came to us and voiced the interest in having the procedure done,” Lewis told “Early Show” co-anchor Maggie Rodriguez.
“We want to put her in the best possible confidence in order to present herself in the best possible light on a national stage.”
I assume Miss USA is some kind of government agency, so hopefully this means what I think it does: not having big tits is now illegal. Now if we can just deport the fatties and girls who don’t put out, it will be like we’re living in heaven.
I freely admit I’m a complete fairy when it comes to heights, so there’s no number low enough to measure the odds of me ever stepping foot on the Ledge at the Sears Tower in Chicago.
…these new glass enclosures that extend 4.3 feet beyond the side of the building. Beneath peoples’ feet lies the sprawling Illinois city – 103 storeys, or 1,353 feet, below. Just an inch-and-a-half of glass separates the visitor from the street underneath. The attraction is due to open in June.
I wouldn’t care if you had guns aimed at my family six inches away. Those fuckers better start making their peace with God because I’m not going anywhere near that thing, not unless I get bone cancer or something and my life was over anyway. An inch-and-a-half of glass? Jesus that has disaster written all over it. At best I would peer over the entrance before I ran away like a little girl after a bug fell in her hair.
(the picture from Splash is in kick ass UHQ, by the way. clicka clicka.)
Lindsay is finally back from Hawaii, just in time for a big media event for her line of self-tanning products last night in Santa Monica. She told E! News that she is really happy right now and things are going great. And they are too! Wait. No they’re not. What the hell is she talking about?
(She) admitted that April had been, “a hard month,” and while she said she is doing her best to move on personally and professionally, she told E! News she and Ronson remain “in touch.”
As for her day job, Lohan is in final negotiations for a film that is scheduled to start shooting in October. She would not divulge any details about the potential project, however, as it has yet to be a done deal.
She also said she’s close to returning to the recording studio, and named Pharrell as a producer she would like to work with—that is, if he wasn’t, for some unknown reason, feuding with her.
So to recap, that ugly dyke won’t take her back, she hopes to get an acting job six months from now, and she’s heard of the producer Farrell. How exactly is any of that great? She might as well say she has plans to be a Supreme Court Justice, or a mighty oak.
The second and presumably last trailer for “Transformers 2″ is now online over on Yahoo, and it begins as Shia LaBeouf moves out of town and leaves behind sex with Megan Fox and his shapeshifting robot car so he can attend class. You may find this unbelievable, but the plot actually gets even dumber after that. Oh I know. But it’s true.
Mariah Carey and her massive tits celebrated their one year anniversary with Nick Carter Cannon last night at Moon in NYC, and Nick better lock that down because the King of Bitches is on the scene, and him and his crocodile coat are making a move. Rackin up ho’s is his game of choice, and all you motherfuckin playa hata’s betta step the fuck back.