By Matt October 22, 2014 @ 7:39 AM
Kesha is suing music producer and alleged sex dungeon owner Dr Luke for forcing her to use drugs and sexually abusing her. Kesha wants to be let out of a contract she claims she signed with Dr. Luke in between the basement torture sessions. A deposition from an unrelated case in 2011 was released wherein Kesha discounts many of these same claims:
“Q: Did Dr Luke ever give you a roofie?
Q: Did you ever have sex with [Dr. Luke?]
This deposition is from 2011 so if Luke indeed began raping and drugging her it would have been rather late into their professional relationship. That’s not usually how things progress, but sometimes people get comfortable. Lying under oath is a crime, whereas lying in a sensational lawsuit is merely considered uncouth and subtly recommended by your legal counsel. Kesha’s blowhard celebrity attorney Mark Garagos is suggesting that 2011 deposition was a lie by Kesha who feared retaliation.
“Luke walked Kesha down the beach and threatened to destroy Kesha’s life and the lives of her family if she didn’t cover up his sexual assaults.”
Either way that’s why we have the Under Oath thing. There’s no part in there about it being okay to fudge testimony if your pimp music producer is raping you in between producing you stupid hits. Dr Luke will probably continue to profit off of Kesha’s music and her questionable integrity will only obscure whatever shady shit he has actually done, which is most likely sizable and includes plenty of studio blow jobs. This isn’t his first rodeo.
Photo Credit: Instagram
By Jack October 14, 2014 @ 12:00 PM
Kesha is suing her producer Dr. Luke alleging that he liked to drug and fondle her, specifically in that order. He also supposedly called her fat so often that she started taking the drugs herself before the fondling. I normally abhor jury duty, but I’d show up for this run.
Read all about the Kesha being abused by her slimeball producer. (The Superficial)
Zach Galifianakis no longer looks like fat Jesus. Now he’s just regular Jesus size. (Huffington Post)
I would gladly lick all the cream off of Chelsea Lipp’s titty balls. (Drunken Stepfather)
Rachel Hilbert is all kinds of hot in a black bikini. (Hollywood Tuna)
Kate Upton uses her tits to sell shit for Express. (Popoholic)
Mickey Rourke in spandex is very disturbing. (Dlisted)
Charlotte McKinney naked on a beach. That is all. (COED)
By Lex June 20, 2014 @ 3:53 PM
Now that Kesha dropped the dollar sign from her name, she looks like a million bucks. Or, like Scott Caan in a wig. Kesha was in rehab earlier this year for an eating disorder. Mostly, she was eating too much drugs and alcohol. Now she’s back to making new beautiful music and set to debut as a judge on Rising Star, ABC’s attempt to create their own American Idol or The Voice except ten years too late.
It’s terrifying for those kids. I feel so bad for them, but I’m really excited. I think people would be surprised how different I would like the talent to be. I want country, I want polka – all of it.
I wasn’t going to watch this show. Now I’m really really not going to watch this show. But I’m happy for Kesha. A new chin and cheeks and nose and vagina and hair and vagina hair and job just have to equal happiness. I hope for my sake.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI, Pacific Coast News
By Jack March 07, 2014 @ 1:40 PM
Self-described singer and noted gutter scamp Ke$ha left rehab yesterday and seems to be healed. She had been in fat camp rehab after admitting she had developed an eating disorder after some music producer called her a “fucking refrigerator”. She was fat shamed! Also high and drunk which makes fat shaming double shaming with a twist of cocaine. She changed her name on Twitter from Ke$ha with the stupid $ to Kesha Rose, which has vastly simplified the life of taggers who spend their evenings spraying ‘Kesha is a dirty whore’ on freeway signs. She seems to have turned over a whole new leaf, one not involving brushing her teeth with bottles of Jack and acting like the last picked whore at the ranch. That is until she inevitably relapses. She tweeted:
“Life is beautiful. I’m so blessed to have you all.”
Aw. So, does this mean that the disgusting gunt with splatter shots of her on the web, drank piss, and made art out of teeth is gone forever? Unlikely. Even if she doesn’t feel compelled to do that stuff because of her psychology pathology, it’s still what makes her money. Nobody’s going to pay to see Kesha sing torch songs with just a mic and spotlight at Harrah’s. Her fans will go back to finding other ways to piss off their parents the minute she stops chugging her pee. It’s the disgusting slut catch-22. And it’s too late for her to sell her organs.
By Lex January 06, 2014 @ 5:41 PM
The term fat shaming amuses me to to end. When I was a chubby kid in grade school the P.E. teacher made me run laps while ordering the other boys to pelt me with dodgeballs as the teacher himself hurled humiliating insults. We didn’t call it fat shaming back then. We called it trying not to get your head hit by a dodgeball and praying for the fucking bell. Sure it turned me into a callous, cold and dark-hearted adult. But I never had to go to rehab for an eating disorder like Kesha. I guess her music producer said she looked like a refrigerator a couple years back and Kesha took that to mean nobody cared about her as an artist or a human being, just how her body looked. All of which is completely true. It drove her to stop eating and looking better in her fucked up slutty costumes which I guess is a bad thing because now Kesha’s in rehab for a month figuring out how to be more perfect:
I’ll be unavailable for the next 30 days, seeking treatment for my eating disorder … to learn to love myself again. Exactly as I am.”
Well, that’s just wonderful. If not totally wrong. You’re not supposed to love yourself the way you are when you’re a fat-ass, or a junkie or a horrible musician or a person who drinks their own urine for attention. You’re supposed to be proud of your good shit and fix your broken shit. This modern self-esteem bullshit is going to cost us 30 days of no Kesha! Dammit. That’s too steep a price. If I had told my P.E. teacher that I loved myself exactly as I am, he would have smothered me with a Presidential Fitness patch and buried me in an unmarked grave next to the tether balls.
Photo Credit: WENN, Ke$ha/Instagram