This morning, my ass is suffering from bronzer fumes inhalation, breast plate burns to the face and a Vitamin D deficiency due to shade overload, and that could only mean one thing: RuPaul's Drag Race is back! The show that Xtina uses as her own personal make-up tutorial (Note: But no self-respecting queen on Drag Race would let her pussy plasma drip down her leg without throwing some glitter on it first) dropped on our TV screens and brought Elvira, who I can't believe has never been on that shit before, in as a guest judge.
There are a few queens to talk about like Phi Phi O'Hara, who I swear has "bitch" written next to nationality on her passport ("Go back to Party City where you belong!" is my new favorite verbal slap and I don't even know what it means), Latrice Royale and Willam whose face is always telling you that it's 5 o'clock, but none of them compare to Sharon Needles! Sharon Needles was born one night in Pittsburgh when Courtney Love's favorite heroin-shooting vein busted open and squirted all into the gutter as Marilyn Manson jacked off on a Nina Hagen voodoo doll. Bitch is like a Real Housewife of Silent Hill.
Last night's challenge was to queef out a glamour look for the Rupocalypse and Sharon Needles easily wrapped up that competition by crawling out looking like she just snowballed (tar balled?) a Tar Monster on the shores of a swamp.
The season is still young, but so far I'm stretching out my arm to tie a pair of panty hose around it before shooting up some Sharon Needles. TEAM SHARON NEEDLES (If that doesn't get me an "HIV test appointment reminder" postcard from the free clinic, I don't know what will.)
Carol Channing (91)
Justin Timberlake (31)
Tiffany Limos (32)
Bobby Moynihan (35)
Kerry Washington (35)
Kate Shindle (35)
Jackie O (37)
Portia de Rossi (39)
Patricia Velasquez (41)
Minnie Driver (42)
Kelly Lynch (53)
Anthony LaPaglia (53)
Johnny Rotten (56)
Jessica Walter (71)
Philip Glass (75)
Rooney Mara, seen on the right looking like Alfalfa after eating a whole bunch of pomegranate seeds, has taken the lead role in Steven Soderbergh's new movie after the bag of mumbles with blonde hair we call Blake Lively was dropped. In Side Effects, Rooney will play a pill-popping mess who goes crazy while waiting for her husband to get out of the clink. Carol O'Neal (government name: Channing Tatum) will play her husband and this shit also stars Catherine Zeta-Jones and Jude Law. It starts shooting sometime in April.
IndieWire reported last week that one of the movie's main investors pulled all their cash out after Steven Soderbergh cast Blake NotSoLively in the lead role, because they weren't exactly impressed with the highly-trained thespian skills she lays down in the PBS' masterpiece drama series Gossip Girl. Since Blake was with the movie's money, Steven Soderbergh dropped her and picked up an Oscar nominee instead.
If anybody can play a sedated, fucked up mess, it's not Blake, but she wouldn't be that bad at it since she naturally carries herself like a permanently confused inbred kitten who treats the concussion it suffers from with NyQuil and generic Valium. But Blake getting dumped isn't the funniest thing about this. I mean, investors pulled their money out over Blake, but yet they were okay with Channing Tatum? Or should I call him, Sir Channing Tatum, since he's obviously going to get knighted for his contribution to the art of making water damaged cardboard seem interesting. It has to burn a ho's ass lips off knowing that she got fired for being a shit actor, but Channing Tatum doesn't.
Anyway, here's Blake's replacement Rooney Mara wearing a garden of angel labias with David Fincher at the Tokyo premiere of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
What member of a foreign royal family was caught inhaling disco dust in a nightclub bathroom during a recent sporting event? (Page Six)
Duchess of Alba? But that wasn't disco dust. It was ground diamonds, which is how she keeps the dandelion of star dust strands on her head so sparkly.
This could also be Princess Stephanie or Prince Albert? Don't guess Prince Hot Ginge, because he has proven that he won't snort it unless it comes in a bottle, is of Russian descent and used to be a potato.
What soon to be A list movie actor's girlfriend who is also moving up the list quite nicely is convinced that she can keep him from wanting guys. She told a friend of hers the other day that as long as she stays kinky enough he will want her and not any of the guys he used to date. Hey, it worked for Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz for awhile. (CDAN)
Bradley Cooper and Zoe Saldana? This will only work if by "kinky" she means she'll turn her poon into a peen, change her name to Victor Garber and memorize every single lyric in every single show tune that's ever been written.
This singer’s sexuality has been questioned over and over again, but he does have a steady girlfriend with whom he attends awards shows. While he was out on tour, he had a fling with a fan. She soon discovered that he had given her herpes. She decided to sue him, and in the course of preparing her suit, wound up contacting his girlfriend. The girlfriend, who was surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing, simply remarked, “Well, you’re certainly not the first one. We’ve been dealing with this situation for a long time.” It turns out that this singer is a one-man herpes distribution center. (Blind Gossip)
Doesn't Derek Jeter already have the title "one-man herpes distribution center" trademarked? LAWSUIT! I'll guess this is John Legend or Ne-Yo?
French singer Shy'm proves that you can make a sophisticated ensemble fit for a demure lady using torn bed sheets, fiberglass, resin and pepaw pubes. And am I high again or does her torso look like Andy Warhol with a buzz cut and aviators? - (site NSFW) Drunken Stepfather
Whenever I see Lea Michele trying to glamour it up at award shows, I expect to see her mother yelling at her for getting into her closet and playing with her big woman shoes again - Lainey Gossip
Call me a chin-osexual, but I actually do think Asshole Simpson looks good here - The Superficial
Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale slap at the divorce rumors by going fishing (???) - Celebitchy
Will Cynthia Nixon please stop talking and give Rojo Caliente the mic already - Towleroad
Even Jessica Simpson's earlobes look swole - Hollywood Tuna
Natalie Portman's right breast is trying to get the hell out of there before she feeds it to her baby again - Popoholic
Katy Perry continues to spread all the colors of the Manic Panic rainbow on her hair - The Berry
How many copies of Photoshop died for this? - ICYDK
ScarJo's newest piece looks like a super sized Stanley Tucci with a touch of William Mapother - Popsugar
Becks' Super Bowl commercial is worthless without more bulge - OMG Blog
Matthew Broderick's day off thanks to some Honda commercial, but I can't help but wonder if SJP's old mole ate the life out of his eyes? - Just Jared
This girl can spell any word backwards. To which I say, Annataz si ton desserpmi - The Daily What
Xena's still got it - Hollywood Rag
Jean Paul Gaultier's Amy Winehouse tribute is incomplete without stained ballet slipper and an I Heart Blaaaaaaaaake pin - Cityrag
Bad news for the makers of real hyena hair weaves and beaver wigs - Videogum
The Narcissistic Old Queens brawl of 2012 lives on - I'm Not Obsessed
Sad news for those of you sick fucks who were looking forward to watching Fear Factor's donkey show episode while enjoying a spread of spoiled horchata and Miller Lite (aka donkey piss). NBC has erased the episode from its schedule and will air a rerun instead. So America will not get to watch a bunch of dumb ass contestants do what Joe Rogan did to get that job.
TMZ summoned a hundred donkey side-eyes when they said last week that Fear Factor's season finale episode had a stunt where the contestants had to guzzle down beer jugs full of donkey piss and donkey-flavored baby batter. As of last week, NBC executives were going back on forth over whether or not they should air the "ass to mouth" episode, but sometime during the weekend they decided to kill it completely. They scrubbed a preview for the episode from their website and already changed channel guides to list the re-run as the episode that will play tonight. TMZ asked NBC's chairman for a comment and he said this:
"I reviewed the episode late last week and decided it was a segment we should not air."
I don't know if this is good news or bad news for those ass jizz-guzzling contestants. On one hand, if the episode aired, they'd forever be known as the hos with donkey spunk breath and drunk donkeys looking for a quickie would kick at their back door at all hours of the night. But on the other hand, the world knowing that they will swallow some disgusting ass shit will do wonders for their personal lives and probably get them a cameo on Jersey Shore. We'll never know.
And if you were looking forward to watching a bunch of tricks drink donkey sperm, you can watch the next best thing instead. You can watch a fake crying donkey throw up a bunch of bull shit. I'm talking about this (skip to the 2:15 mark):
What is Full Throttle Saloon on TruTv and why haven't I memorized every single episode already? Because I need more natural patriotic beauty like this in my life.
With hair like a melted rocket pop and tits of destruction that look like a Fix-A-Flat ass, Cathy tells her admirers outside of Full Throttle Saloon that believe or not it took six titty jobs for her to look like Kim Kardashian is ripping out of her chest ass first. It's like Anna Nicole Smith was reincarnated using the tear drop of an American bald eagle. The true look of patriotism is a pair of massive silicone globs barely covered with two bikini bottoms tied together. We should all pledge allegiance to Cathy.
Fran Drescher and her ex-husband Peter (the one who ended their marriage after declaring his undying love for peen) both have the same kind of scar on the same spot and that could only mean one thing: they were both kidnapped by aliens, microchipped and programmed to meet each other. Obviously. Fran tells HuffPo that when she was in junior high school, the aliens beamed her up into their spaceship and tagged her ass. It's like the recurring wet dream that Tommy Girl wishes would become real life.
"You know, it's funny because Peter and I both saw [aliens] before we knew each other, doing the same thing, driving on the road with our dads. We were both in junior high. A few years later, we met, and we realized that we had the same experience. I think that somehow we were programmed to meet. We both have this scar. It's the exact same scar on the exact same spot."
I bet that when the aliens shimmied the chip up under her skin, Fran let out one of her ear hair-burning laughs and the aliens immediately dropped her back on earth before vowing to never subject themselves to torture like that again. Fran single-handedly saved us from an alien invasion! But seriously, Fran and Peter weren't TAKEN. Those bitches just did way too many whip-its and freebased way too many spices in junior high school. That scar is probably from a bong burn. I'm sure Demi Moore is also telling her therapist that she was abducted by damn aliens.
Here's Xtina, her son Max and her leased bag handler/piece Matthew Rutler leaving Cirque du Soleil's Michael Jackson: The Immortal World Tour in L.A. last night and for once I'm not going to say shit about her wearing camel toe-inducing leggings as pants. Because at least she's covering her legs! I spent a slice of my Saturday night analyzing the stream of WTF?! that trickled down her leg during Etta James' funeral and I can't handle an encore. So now I see TampaXtina's leggings as a Spandex condom protecting my eyes from the self tanner sweat or coochie blood that may drip down her leg. But since we're on that subject again, I don't think it was Aunt Flow's saliva or fake tanner runs. It was obviously delicious barbecue sauce from the McRib she keeps in her chonies for snack emergencies.
As Brad Pitt silently cried for help with his eyes, Angie Jo fed the whore pit vipers crawling under her skin (yeah, those aren't veins) by sucking the pieces of his good shit-soaked soul that are clinging to his insides for dear life. You know, I'm all for shamelessley Angie succubus-ing Brad in front of everyone, but while she was that close to him she should've used her fangs to chew most of his mop off. Not only would eating Brad's strands of grease give Angie some much needed nutrients, but then he wouldn't look like he's a Taco Party Pack and a Miley grope away from being Bradley Ray Cyrus. One would think that a dude would do whatever he can to keep Tish Cyrus from wanting to wet ride him until her cock eye busts into place.
And it warms my soul knowing that Angie's stylist kept their lips shut when they stood back, looked at this and thought to themselves: "This bitch literally looks like a bag of bones." Seriously, somewhere there's a trash can missing its bag and a pair of chopsticks who are feeling all sorts of inadequate while looking at Angie's arms. I bet that dress smells like cold death, dried tar and black licorice.
Here's more of St. Morticia, Brad, his true soulmate George Clooney and Stacy Keibler at the SAGs last night.