By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 5:50 PM
Celebrities have yet to figure out anything close to an effective means to express their frustration with paparazzi. There’s the finger, which only serves to quadruple the value of the photograph. The face covered with designer handbag which can expose unsightly ass fat bulges. There’s that futilely stupid pretending to take pictures of thee paparazzi back, like Kelly Brook was doing alongside her not-at-all-roided-up boyfriend leaving a gym or going to a gym or just getting interferon injections so he can fight COBRA Command. This is what’s led Sean Penn and Justin Bieber and Kanye West and other incredibly short angry famous persons to start kicking paparazzi and then paying them lots of money. There’s literally nothing you can do other than, oh, I don’t know, not being famous for modeling your tits and ass in the first place. That doesn’t really seem like a viable option.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 5:20 PM
If you’ve ever thought to yourself, man, I wish I could simulate intercourse with myself in the manner of Ice-T’s wife, today is your lucky day. You can now lube and plunge yourself into various heights of Chinese manufactured plastic smelling ecstasy thanks to Coco’s new adults product line. She launched the line in Vegas where people are generally too high or drunk or filled with raw shame to care about where their artificial cocks come from. They just know they want them.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 5:15 PM
I’m jumping the gun. Though influential fat film and now stage producer Harvey Weinstein has said he wants to create a Broadway show with Taylor Swift because he loves making money and people who pay to watch other people break into song on stage will sell their kids’ bone marrow for money to see Taylor Swift perform such magic. Upon news of Harvey’s desire, Taylor’s unusually long phalanges stretched another two centimeters as they do any time she receives praise or accolads. Just a few years ago Taylor had hands within two standard deviations of normal. But after so many honors, she now needs to wrap her Abdul-Jabbar fingers three times around her fret before she can finger a D chord. Within two more Adult Country Music Awards cycles she’ll be able to pluck coconuts from trees without a ladder and simultaneously choke three ex-boyfriends to death for not treating her like a twelve-year old girl. When future generations ask how the mutant wars got started, their disaffected high school teacher bots will hologram up an old jpeg of Taylor Swift using her right index finger to deep sea fish for halibut. It’s time to be scared.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 4:33 PM
Unlike her standard publicity methodology where Jennifer Aniston first talks about being topless in her latest movie, then gets praised by vagina heads for being so brave in her 40′s, then turns out not to be topless, then conjures up rumors about her dating her hunky co-star, then leaks tales of being a sexually vibrant nymph with a polyp-free colon, and then ultimately runs off and hides without any makeup in a Ramada Inn putting on four ounces of unhappiness and grump, Jennifer has skipped right to the grump this go-round. She’s filming ‘Cake’ with Sam Worthington and not even pretending they’re having a secret romance. She’s still keeping up appearances with the dude from the last movie she’s talked about marrying for a couple years now. But Jen’s destiny remains to be forlorn and love-lost and a bunch of other words that mean Angelina Jolie when she still had breasts done stole your man. Sorry, Jen’s publicists, you don’t hold my balls in your hands like People magazine. I speak the unfettered truth of the inconsequential and mildly retarded set.
Photo Credit: Pacific Coast News
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 3:38 PM
It’s refreshing to hear one Hollywood actress say that her implants were the best thing to ever happen to her, as Kaley Cuoco did in Cosmo magazine, right there between the same blowjob tips the magazine has been serving up since ’77. The standard refrain from actresses when discussing plastic surgery is first to vehemently deny, then shift to regret and distancing, and ultimately, dramatic lamentation. Watching completely self-absorbed people get caught in a needless lie is like watching penis sausage being made. You will not stick around to watch the second penis go in the grinder. Kaley Cuoco’s shockingly honest revelation is probably related to all the newlywed shtupping and the high she feels from recently moving into Khloe Kardashian’s old McMansion. Who wouldn’t feel femininely charged using the same basin where Khloe would routinely sponge-bathe herself to a tear-filled orgasm thinking about all her diet cheats. Kaley knows her bigger tits got her jobs and promotions and opportunities and men she wouldn’t otherwise have secured with normal human mammaries. She’s got more sac than those ballplayers who lied and cried before Congress about enhancing their own bodies. Kaley Cuoco, you are the big fake tittied wind beneath my wings.
Photo Credit: CBS, Cosmopolitan
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 2:53 PM
Lana Del Rey is pretty damn boring. When she used to be known as Lizzy Grant, the shy really boring singer, it was kind of like, hell, she’s shy and boring and that’s okay because she can sing not super horrible and she seems real. I don’t know who said that, but I imagine it was a bunch of people who go to sign-up shows in the Village and applaud anything retro and non-commercially viable. But now that she’s become Lana Del Rey, with all the new looks and shapes and persona that came with it, she has to be judged against the landscape of virtual circus girls and stage strippers that round out her profession. And by that standard, she comes up like a dried sponge. Miley Cyrus may look like the tattered knitted rape doll they leave in the cages with the male monkeys in heat to keep from assaulting each other, but at least she’s not dull. Lana Del Rey is boring, so they’re getting her to take her clothes off more in her music videos in hopes that people won’t nod off so much like they do when she speaks. It seems to be working. Her conveniently ‘leaked’ new track ahead of her album release is playing all over the Internet reminding many people how amazing her music is to drop a deuce by. I listened to the entire track and was rewarded by shitting out the stubborn remnants of a fast food burrito I ate in 2003. Lana Del Rey could be a thing. But she’ll need to ditch the bra.
Photo Credit: Pacific Coast News
By Jack April 04, 2014 @ 2:12 PM
Sarah Jessica Parker is angry at self appointed relationship expert Sarah J. Symonds. Apparently, Symonds pointed out that Sarah Jessica’s kids don’t look like her. This is due in large part because Parker used a surrogate to produce her twins because she went through menopause during the protracted struggles of World War II. Symonds took down her Tweet but she had already incurred the wrath of the donkey troll. Parker said,
“Your anonymity doesn’t diminish your outrageous and vulgar tweet. And your deletion only reveals your cowardice. @SarahJSymonds. I’m certain there isn’t a woman on this planet who would support your specific kind of cruelty. No apology, no explanation. You should be ashamed @SarahJSymonds. I hope more people join me in voicing their objection to and holding accountable uninformed and unkind women like yourself who find pleasure and delight in attacking other women. @SarahJSymonds”
Damn, you’d think that Symonds stuck her kids in a stump grinder the way she’s talking. Sure, it’s a fucked up thing to imply about the darling children, but she’s just saying what everyone is thinking — you and your tap dancing husband have somebody else’s bio kids. If they grow up looking less and less like you, you’ll have to accept the fact that people are going to wonder if you stole the kids like the fairy tale witch you are ever nearing in visual appearance. Now, stop picking on Internet trolls. Technically they’re your cousins.
By Lex April 04, 2014 @ 1:16 PM
It’s worrisome when the morning talk show bobble heads get confronted with unscripted situations. Like Kelly Ripa and lisping Michael Strahan providing James Franco the forum to cop to encouraging a seventeen year old girl on Instagram to meet him in a hotel room.These teleprompter monkeys off the cuff are more awkward than bringing a honey-baked ham to a kosher pot luck. Based on his deeply furrowed brow, James Franco feels the sting of not being able to hit on teenage girls without the world knowing. Kelly Ripa tells him it’s cool because ‘we’ve all been there’ (we have?), and Michael Strahan tritely says honesty is the best policy as he tries to form a reasonable approximation of an ’ssss’ sound through his randomly spaced incisors. It used to be when a 30-something actor banged teen girls, we didn’t talk about it until he fled the country or he was killed when his buddy drove he and his Porsche into a tree at 80 mph. In the very least, you had to give Oprah a full hour of tears just to get regal probation. Now it’s forty-three seconds on Kelly and Michael being told you’re a brave man for plowing Scottish high school girls then admitting you do after you got caught. Times have changed. Get off my fucking lawn.