The Booty music video breaks new ground by doing nothing other than showing Jennifer Lopez and Iggy Azalea twerking their oiled down asses while some auto-tuned sound maker repeats the word booty. It’s actually kind of genius. Pretending pop stars can sing has always been a major boner kill. It’s like pretending your CES hooker cares about your new streaming music player. Enjoying these pop stars more simply as ass-fat injected sex objects designed almost entirely for smoking cigarettes seductively and fucking, that’s so much simpler. Booty eliminates any obligation to shake your head to the music, pretend you know any words, or ignore the fact that Jennifer Lopez is tone deaf. It’s just a little ditty about using your big shitter to please your man. I see this is as progress. When Lopez and Azalea complete the Booty trilogy with Spank and Finger Rape, this entire opus will come fully into perspective.
Oh, fuck yeah. I want to pound that ass until the lipo-injected fat cap explodes into a Burger King used grease trap of rainbow fucking delicious. At this point, the pop stars with the big fake asses are just singing songs about big fake asses. Sort of like Marvin Gaye sang about the black experience and Morrissey croons about being a self-indulgent pansy who cries every time a farmer pulls a carrot from the ground anywhere on earth. An artist speaks from their experience. Jennifer Lopez was one of the early winners in the chicks with nice asses who were transformed into tuned-up mega-music stars. Iggy Azalea is the latest. Without 1,000 cc’s of human butter churning in her dumper, Iggy would be dispensing change at a Melbourne area laundry mat. I think they call them kangaroo wallaby shacks or something quaint down in Australia. The two have come together for the dulcet Booty, which has been teased in photos, single covers, and now a trailer sizzle, before at some point the entire steaming musical pile is shat out of the Payola rectum and becomes a hit.
I don’t begrudge a woman making a career off her booty. Fuck, I’d take that paycheck in a second if my gender and ass could be Frankensteined accordingly. Maybe though lay a bit lower on the songs specifically about your humped up body parts. Karma is an imprecise bitch. No innocents should have to come back as sea conchs because you lack irony.
Photo Credit: Youtube
Photo Credit: Getty
I hate to think that Putin won at anything, but, damn, that Sochi opening ceremony spectacular made Communism look amazing. Brazil has spent eleven billion on the World Cup, but most of that went to buy ring pops for the City of God gangsters for their promise to reduce tourist kidnappings by sixty-percent in June. The opening ceremonies today looked like the kids decided to put on a play to save Mrs. Beasley’s civic garden from being rolled. I’m pretty sure they just picked up a truckload of vendors selling kebabs down by the beach, slapped a leftover Mardi Gras costume on them, and told them to dance like Amy Grant. Then the showstoppers came. Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull. Nothing says Brazilian pride like a a Puerto Rican and a Cuban getting stuck on a rising stage platform that jams right out of the box. I hope somebody kept their Amazon return label.
Ultimately, the World Cup is about sport. Just like Sochi, shoddy infastrcture, crappy field conditions, and Johnny Weir dressed like Anderson Cooper’s mom couldn’t take away from the majesty of the competition. Soccer fans could give a rat’s ass if a couple stadium sections collapse and tens of thousands perish. You riot, kill a few government officials, and you move on. The Olympics are just two years away and there’s lots more ring pops to buy.
Celebrities like to make a big deal about returning to where they came up. Like many of us, where they came up was some place that benefits from time and distance and the melancholy of reminiscing. Hey, remember that place where that dude got stabbed and bled out on the street or that time that girl got raped by the dude who was yet to be stabbed? Yeah, I loved being in constant danger and having no air conditioning. Those were good times. Over the years people from the Bronx have complained that Jenny forgot her roots and has never given back what she owes. Owes to who? That Puerto Rican chick who didn’t do so well in school and couldn’t sing bootstrapped her own Latina self into every backup dancer gig she could find to make enough cash to get the fuck out. She danced behind New Kids on the Block to pay her rent. That’s earning your bones. Until last night, Jennifer had never been back to the Bronx to perform. She can’t sing but she’s got an incredible ass that may not be near enough a set of balls to please her boyfriend, but still got her to the top of the entertainment powerhouse charts. I have nothing but respect for Jennifer Lopez. She didn’t forget her roots, she just never really liked them. That’s fair.
Photo Credit: Getty, Splash
Purveyor of all things tranny hooker scandalous, TheDirty.com is reporting that Casper Smart was sexting online with yet another male turned female for the purposes of feeling fresh and lithesome. He may also have met up with this one as well in his bad-ass Dodge Ram tranny boinking truck. Page Six is reporting that Jennifer Lopez is fed up with her cougar cub being such an insatiable post-op pussy hound. J-Lo is getting ready to break up with Casper even though he’s been the perfect boyfriend of two years, you know, other than constantly pointing to her vagina in bed and saying, mmm, that’s where your hot cock used to be. All of which just goes to show that intergenerational, incongruent sexuality relationships are difficult even under the best of circumstances. Also, if you happen to like transgendered sex and you don’t want your meal ticket to cut you off, find yourself a decent alias and cover story. Somebody wasn’t paying attention during backup show dancer orientation.
Photo credit: Xristina Marie on Google Plus