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Well, this is making me feel a new kind of sad. Teena Marie, a bright shining star of my childhood, Rick James' protégée and the angel who created hits like Lovergirl, I Need Your Lovin' and Ooo La La La, has floated off to heaven at the young age of 54. Teena's manager brings us the tragic news that she passed away in her sleep on Christmas night at her home in California. Teena's daughter Alia Rose reportedly found her this morning.

As of right now, Teena's cause of death isn't known. Teena's manager said that she suffered a seizure last month, but no other information was given. Sometime yesterday, Teena Tweeted this:

Sarah Vaughan "May You never grow old, and may I never die"...

Oh, Teena :( She will live on forever thanks to her voice which is the reason why sequins sparkles and thanks to my cousins who still play her Irons in the Fire cassette at almost every family reunion.

Rest in peace, Teena. The piece of my childhood that choreographed a dance to Lovergirl in my living room died today too.

via CNN, TMZ, NYDN

Believe it or not, Penelope Cruz's "DO NOT WANT" face is not the winner of this picture. And Javier Bardem double fisting two invisible b-holes like YEAH also didn't get the game point. The true star of this shit is the memaw hollerin' her division sign brows right off. Need more proof? Let's get closer:

BOOM! I can practically hear her screaming "SUPPER'S ON!!!!" from here. It's like she's banging on a triangle with her tonsils. She is serious about her victory scream, because even her nostrils are cheering. Yup, she wins.

And here's a few more of Penny Cruz's pregnant ass hugging on Javier at the Lakers vs. Heat game at the Staples Center in L.A. last night.

Hugh Jackmeoff almost lost his eyeball when he zip lined right into a stage light during Oprah's show, and today Elizabeth Hurley's one-time side piece Shane Warne almost fractured his dick bone when he threw a ball at him. And as soon as Hugh grabbed at his groin in pain, a dozen so-called nurses ran forward claiming that their saliva contains healing properties.

Who is trying to destroy Hugh? They tried to blind him and now they've tried to make him literally unfuckable by almost fracturing his crotch. Although, you can still hump on his crotch cast. But seriously, since Hugh was most likely wearing a cup, there was no damage to the goods and his peen can swing another day! But his overdramatic groin grab is still a wonderful belated Christmas gift.

And here's Hugh and his luscious beard leaving a gym in Sydney the other day.

There really are no words to describe CoCo's delicate and elegant NSFW-ish Christmas card to the world, so I'll just let you see for yourself. JUMP!

When Rachel Weisz and Darren Aronofsky announced that their relationship was unwinding like Natalie Portman's sanity in Black Swan (aka Showgirls In Tights), there was a rumor that she had already soothed her sadness by gently rocking on Daniel Craig's crotch. Most therapists will tell you that the cure for the common sad is Daniel Craig cock, so you Rachel did the right thing. At the time, Rachel and Craig both denied that shit, but apparently they were telling LIES. The News of the World (via UsWeekly) published a few pictures of Daniel and Rachel holding hands over the weekend in Somerset, England. And if you shut the lights and waved a black light wand over their hands, I'm sure you'd see splatters of their sex juices. DOING. IT.

The Daily Mail says that Daniel and Rachel stayed at some fancy country inn and were seen holding hands and laughing as they strolled to a nearby pub for a little after sex cordial. One witness-type said, "Daniel and Rachel looked like a romantic couple in a film. They were laughing and hanging on to each other's words and stopping to take photos of each other. They were clinging to each other like honeymooners. The chemistry was obvious."

Daniel and Satsuki Mitchell, who were promised to be married for a long ass time, reportedly ended their love earlier this year.

Daniel (who might just have a case of wandering peen) just got out of a long term thing and Rachel just got out of a long term thing, so this is probably just a first stop fuck before they fully emerge into singlehood (I think). And nothing gets your mind off of a BROKEN HEART like a good old-fashioned rebound fuck. It's sort of like eating your feelings. Except Rachel is eating her feelings off of Daniel's peen.

Today, true love sounds like a hip bone cracking when 84-year-old Hugh Hefner got on one knee with the help of two nurses, an orderly and an EMT to propose marriage to his 24-year-old girlfriend Crystal Harris on Christmas Eve. Hugh (aka an assistant who transcribed the message at his bedside while his new soon-to-be fetus bride dabbed a little congratulatory Desitin on his nalgas) announced on his Twitter last night that he's engaged to Crystal. This means Crystal will be his third wife. Yup, who ever said gold digging was an easy job never had to wade chin-deep in pepaw slobber and Viagra to get 0.0000085% of the Playboy empire thanks to a little thing called a prenup. Pampers is totally going to provide the wedding attire from the bride AND groom.

This is what Hugh announced last night:

Yes, the ring I gave Crystal is an engagement ring. I didn't mean to make a mystery out of it. A very merry Christmas to all.

Yes, this is some pedophilia meets necrophilia shit, but whatever makes them happy. If a girl who was entering the world at about the same time he was entering the "Pepaws Don't Give A Fuck" stage of his life makes Hugh happier than the sound of a Werther's Original bag opening, then good for him. And Crystal's gold digging game is so serious that she probably won't break character when Hugh accidentally burps up creamed banana barf into her mouth during a kiss. You just have to slow clap for that kind of determination!

And somewhere outside of the Playboy Mansion, Holly Madison is scaling the wall with a machete in her mouth and VENGEANCE in her eyes.

via People

Pank Cup Boy has already delivered an Ode to Doritos soliloquy that replays in my head and echoes off my taste buds before softly falling onto my soul every time I open up a bag of processed cheese triangles of deliciousness, and now he has gifted the world with the perfect post-holiday theme song: THE FAT BITCH WALK. With brows looking like two Gummi Worms wearing overcoats made out of otter hair, Pank Cup Boy busts out your new "Change Into Your Draw String Pants" anthem that you can sashay to when you're walking from the booth to the parking lot at Claim Jumper. Actually, this shit is perfect for every damn occasion and allow Pank Cup Boy to explain why:

via Crunk + Disorderly

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