Despite the fact that her latest film is called Sharknado and involves a tornado full of sharks, Tara Reid thinks that she is still a serious actress and that she should be treated as such when she shows up to places and demands a bunch of free shit. The American Pie star, seen above with another ghost of Hollywood past, reportedly needed a new outfit for Coachella last weekend, so she went to the All Saints store in Los Angeles to take care of that.
According to the NY Post, though, Tara left empty-handed because despite finding something she liked to fit in with the rest of the hipster D-list, she was thrown out of the store after screaming at employees who refused to give her a discount for being famous.
“She was screaming,” said a source. “She had to be escorted out by security. She seemed drunk.”
Come on, it’s Tara Reid. “Seemed drunk” is implied. Like if someone is talking about Amanda Bynes and says, “She was batshit crazy.” It’s just redundant.
Chaz Bono dropped 60 pounds. I think this is something all chunky ladies should do. Sex change. Men don’t store body fat like women. Turn that vag into a peen and easily shed some serious weight. You can always go back when you’re at playing weight. And extend this out beyond just your workouts. Sick of being a second class citizen in the office? Slap on a dick and get yourself that promotion. A little wistful for the days the UPS delivery guy would ride you hard in the copy room? Chop off that third leg and rebuild your lady purse. You can have it all. Just make sure you’ve got insurance.
If Kate Upton aspires to be a serious actress someday, or, fuck it, even a decent one, she’s off to a pretty bad start. Her debut was in the awful Tower Heist and she followed that up with the even worse The Three Stooges, but those were both roles that mostly required her to stand around and look pretty and have huge breasts, so she can’t really be faulted.
But now she might actually get a chance to speak more than a few lines as, according to Vanity Fair, she’s in talks to join Cameron Diaz and Leslie Mann in The Other Woman, in which she’ll play a girl who finds out that her man is actually married, so she teams up with Diaz and Mann to make him pay.
A lot of people like to complain about Kate’s success, saying that she’s not that hot or aside from her giant tits, her body isn’t that great. So this is a pretty smart move by the model, because if there’s one way to prove to people that you’re incredibly attractive, it’s standing next to Cameron Diaz.
Yes, that is Amanda Bynes under that scarf. You can call her nutso, but wearing a scarf dramatically improves her chances of being cast in a movie, not being spotted by the dealer show owes money, and getting laid. One scarf, countless benefits. So who’s nuts now?
It’s time to stop judging Britney Spears by the standards of a potentially sexy pop star and start judging her as a soccer mom you wouldn’t throw out of bed. Even if she left crumbs and Fudgsicle® stains.
Maret Tsarnaeva is the aunt of everyone’s favorite murdering nutjobs, Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev. She lives in Toronto and has been…shall we say…outspoken in defense of her nephews. She claims, just like other conspiracy theorist nutjobs, that the boys were set up. She said, “They made our boys enemies of the American nation, they made them victims of the conspiracy. They needed somebody to blame for something they committed themselves so they got them, so rejoice people, rejoice.” We did rejoice. Did you not see Neil Diamond at Fenway? You can’t rejoice harder than with a little taste of the cantor’s son.
Naturally, Auntie Maret has been getting threatening phone calls telling her it’s time for her to go if she hates America and our hockey playing friends up north so much. She then retorted, “Yes, it is time. We did not find that promise — democracy — in this country. But if I go home, I will go home only with bodies of my nephews.” Please, be our guest. You might need some duct tape for the older nephew’s body. Have fun in Chechnya. I hear it’s beautiful in the Spring.
If you’re like me, you too have a friend like Stoner Steve. Stoner Steve is the dude not content just to get a little high and watch Spaceballs. No, Stoner Steve has to endlessly loop a lecture about how hemp can save the world, how marijuana can cure constipation, and how a multi-pronged trilateral corporate-government conspiracy is keeping pot illegal. 4/20 is Stoner Steve’s biggest day of the year. The lectures get a little longer, the slogans a little more complicated, and the marching becomes more committed. For a stoner, Steve is kind of a drag. Which is why I like Snoop Dogg’s approach to 420. Get high, host a party, bang the Howe Twins, find a comfy chair, and chill the fuck out.
If the past couple weeks of Coachella have reminded us of anything it’s that celebrities have a hard time fitting in with regular people. Even at Coachella, a real soft-serv version of an old school indie music festival, all these over-handled primadonnas simply can’t dress down or get down with normal folk. But Courtney Love can. She’s the first famous person I’ve seen at Coachella who looks born of the sweat and drugs and dirty sex that forms the foundation of any great outdoor public cultural event. She could suck on a cactus branch, tamp cocaine into the bloody folds of her shredded mouth, and wash it all down with a bottle of Jack and the cum of five strange men. And do it all with a blank smile and a ten-thousand yard stare. In fact, Coachella doesn’t even deserve her.