Coming to you LIVE from the backwoods of FUCKansas so please be patient as I had to run a phone line to the neighbors double-wide! Yea, we only have 56k dial up connection because the wifi in my parents basement doesn't pick up SHIT. Thank THE LAWD Miller Lite distributing has hooked my ass up to an IV drip as this is gonna be a long fucking week!!
Sprint and BET have teamed up with the makers of DUH! to bring you new award winning technology on announcing the Coca-Cola Viewer's Choice Award... Drake is not amused!!
After announcing Chris Brown as the winner this Tiffany chick realized it was not the People's Beatdown Award and vomited up a "WHOOPSIE", naming Rihanna as the winner! This is almost as bad as the time I was in bed with Sweetas and called out Snowy's name - NOT THE ONE!
The Parents Television Council wants RiRi's video for Man Down pulled off the face of the planet, because it shows her firing a revenge bullet into the head of her rapist and they believe this teaches our children to handle shit with violence. Yes, because when I was a child and watched Madonna's video for "Burning Up," I immediately rolled around in the middle of the street like a cat in heat. Okay, that is a terrible example since I actually did that. Moving on...
The PTC says that as a victim of assault RiRi skipped the opportunity to tell rape victims to seek help from the police instead of taking matters into their own hands. The founder of an anti-violence organization called "Enough is Enough" (which sort of sounds like the name of a Donna Summer fan club) is backing up the PTC and issued this statement of words to CNN about the video:
"I join with the Parents Television Council and Industry Ears in calling on Viacom executives to immediately pull the video from programs that are targeted to youth and teenagers."
RiRi defended herself on Twitter, and while I am on her side, bitch should've brought it down a few and left out a dozen characters or 200. I've bolded the words that should've probably ended up on the cutting room Twitter floor.
I'm a 23 year old rockstar with NO KIDS! What's up with everybody wantin me to be a parent? I'm just a girl, I can only be your/our voice!
Cuz we all know how difficult/embarrassing it is to communicate touchy subject matters to anyone especially our parents!
And this is why!Cuz we turn the other cheek! U can't hide your kids from society,or they'll never learn how to adapt!This is the REAL WORLD!
The music industry isn't exactly Parents R Us! We have the freedom to make art, LET US! Its your job to make sure they dont turn out like US
I bolded "REAL WORLD," because RiRi is the only one who will shoot up somebody while wearing a busted Little Mermaid weave. If you're going to commit a crime, at least make sure that you're looking mug shot fresh. A weave like that will definitely put you on The Smoking Gun's mug shot gallery and do you really want that?! We need to teach our children to keep their look simple while committing a crime so their mug shot always looks classic! That's the real lesson.
But seriously, there has to be a solution to this issue. The PTC wants to protect the eyes of our children from seeing rapists getting shot up and RiRi wants to make videos where she shoots up rapists. The only solution I see is that we ship all children off to an innocent island that only shows music videos and television shows approved by the PTC. Over here, we can continue to make television shows and music videos with nothing but fucking, drugging and killing. Separate the innocent children from the corrupt adults since we can't live together in peace.
And when I go to the pool, I wouldn't have to worry about some toddler pissing on my leg next to me. All problems solved!
If you were watching HBO's Cathouse and clicked over to watch RiRi and Brit Brit's performance at the Billboard Music Awards tonight, then you probably thought you were still on the same channel, because Our Lady of Cheetos and the Barbadian Ronald McDonald's twerked their twats and swayed their asses like rent was due yesterday. Correction: RiRi summoned the ho shit while Brit Brit sort of just stumbled around like a blind deer looking for a puddle of water to lick on. Seriously, the USB-powered stripper toy can make it rain more dollar bills than Brit Brit can.
Couldn't they have slathered Brit's pole with Frapp lube so she could've put some feeling into that shit. You'd think that the pole was a giant broccoli stick or some other kind of vegetable Brit Brit won't dare nibble on unless it's drowning in Velveeta.
Anyway, watch this mess if you haven't already. S&M must stand for sedated and motherfuckingoverit.
I can't tell if Brit Brit's trying to lip-synch or chewing an old piece of gum.
It's one thing for Beyonce to wrap herself in a gown that looks like it was made using the gilded sperm of Lumiere the Candlestick and the dusty ovaries of Babbette the Feather Duster, but it's another to stuff herself so tight that you can't even walk. Like an elephant dick in a guinea pig condom. Whenever Beyonce drags Jay-Z to events like last night's Costume Institute Gala at The Met, he always looks like those dudes you see holding their chick's purses outside of the ladies room with a perma-grimace on their face. And now she does this to him?!
Jay-Z and a helper had to physically help Beyonce up the stairs into the museum. If it was me, I would've knocked that ho to the floor and rolled her ass up the stairs. When we were getting ready to leave, I would've set up bowling pins at the bottom of the stairs, told Beyonce to hold her breath and then rolled her ass down hoping for a strike!
You can't even think about taking a piss in a satin sausage casing like that dress. If you even twitch your labia a bit, all the seams will come apart and you'd be all sorts of naked. It's not like 4 peons (or pee-ons, I should say) can prop Beyonce up on a toilet and guide-eth thee pee-eth stream down below. Beyonce could not pee. Because she could not pee, she could not drink any kind of booze. Because she could not drink one drop of booze while surrounded by a sea of perfumed assholes, she might as well have been in hell. Although, if you're an asshole amongst assholes, you probably don't care. Beyonce waddling around a museum is never the look.
Anyway, here's a bunch of hos who obviously asked themselves "Should I trip her? Should I trip her?" while Beyonce waddled by. In order (after Beyonce and Jay-Z): Gis Bundchen with a granola gayelle, a neon marker named Brooklyn Decker, Dakota Fanning, Elle Fanning, Salma Hayek, JLo with Skeletor, RiRipunzel, Madge, Fishsticks with Lea Michele, Sarah Jessica Parker with an Andy Cohen photo bomb and the First Lady of New York.
RiRi's father Ronald Fenty, who always looks like he's inhaling ass, has never been shy about spilling his family's personal shit to the tabloids for a quick cashiers check, so it's no surprise that he's telling The Sun his daughter has 5 relatives she didn't know about until she was 15. Hopefully, one of those relatives will be the one to tell her that her Dollar Menu weave belongs in the McDonaldland landfill.
Ronald tells The Sun that before he started a 14-year-long marriage with RiRi's mother, he really let his whore out by fathering 3 kids with 3 different women. RiRi has a 32-year-old half sister named Kandy, a 30-year-old half sister named Samantha and a 27-year-old half brother named Jamie. Kandy also has two daughters. Ronald says he found out about his trio of secret love children right before RiRi became a superstar goat yodeler. Ronald says, "I guess you could say I was shocked. But I was a bit on the wild side and something of a ladies' man back in my early days. Once Kandy told me who her mother was and explained what had happened, I said, 'Well, OK, welcome to my family'."
Kandy has since spent a little time with RiRi, but mostly follows her the same way everybody else does, "I'm not jealous of the fame or fortune - I live a simple life out in the country but I'm very happy with what I have. I don't think we have very much in common but we do have the same large forehead."
Just a family of foreheads, those Fentys! The next time they get together for a backyard barbecue and bow their heads to say grace, the entire island of Barbados will go dark and everyone will have to set their clocks forward an hour.
But really, who doesn't have half-siblings? WE ALL DO! I remember the first time I found out there were other mismatched members of the tribe my father created with his sperm. I was going through a family album with my mom and came across a picture of a little Asian girl in a white dress. I asked my mother, "Harpo, who dis woman?" My mother didn't miss a beat, "Oh, that's your older half-sister. You have a half-brother too. He's 8 months older than you. There might be others." LIKE NOTHING! My mom nearly turned inside/out when she gave me the sex talk yet the half-sibling bomb rolled off of her tongue like a second breath. It didn't really shock me either, though. I didn't have one of those ESCANDALO soap opera moments where the camera stayed on my frozen emotion-filled face before cutting to commercial. I made an internal shrug, because deep down I've always known that my father was a round-the-way bareback whore. The Japanese Lil Wayne, if you will.
Every now and again, my sister will ask me if I want to get the tribe together. To which I let out a giant....NOOOOOOO. Yes, my half-siblings could be perfectly lovely people who bring the most delicious bacon and potato casseroles to Easter dinner. Then again, one of them could also be a crackhead with a gambling problem. Do I really need one of my half-siblings calling me up at 4am from a 7-Eleven payphone begging me to Western Union them $100 to pay their "electricity bill." Yeah, no. I already get that from bill collectors. I don't need it from my relatives. Relative diving is not for me.
I'll see my tribe on the other side. Unless, telephones and gambling junkies exist on the other side. If that's the case, I'll see them on the other OTHER other side, etc...
It's Saturday and this hangover can't lift anything heavy, so we might as well sit third row in the lukewarm Twatter battle between Arby's employee of the week Ciara and Raggedy Rihanna which went down last night after the former pulled the latter's tail and made that bitch BAAAAAAAH on Twitter.
It all started when Ciara was a guest on E!'s Fashion Police last night and said that Ryan Phillippe's part-time ass licker wasn't all that nice when they ran into each other at a party. Roll that beautiful shade footage:
That was a bitch move of RiRi. Ciara was serving canapes and pigs and a blanket during her side catering job and RiRi couldn't even throw her a "thank you" after she clearing the platter? Rude. And RiRi kept the hair dye-stained rudeness going on Twitter when she scratched at Ciara:
My bad ci, did I 4get to tip u? #howrudeofme
about 14 hours ago via Twitter for BlackBerry®
U gangsta huh? Haaa
about 14 hours ago via Twitter for BlackBerry®
Good luck with bookin that stage u speak of
about 14 hours ago via Twitter for BlackBerry®
And then Ciara tried to deliver a double slap to RiRi's tenhead but missed:
Trust me Rhianna u dont want to see me on or off the stage
about 14 hours ago via web
about 13 hours ago via web
RiRi quickly realized that she doesn't want Ciara spitting in her food the next time she goes to Arby's, so she blew her a totally sarcastic make-up kiss:
Ciara baby, I love u girl! U hurt my feelings real bad on TV! I'm heartbroken! That's y I retaliated this way! So sorry! #letsmakeup about 14 hours ago via Twitter for BlackBerry®
Just like singing ability, sarcasm is not a friend of Ciara's and she took RiRi's eye roll of an apology as genuine and accepted it.
Is Shanaynay writing RiRi's Tweets for her, because that dirty tampon-headed ho is all sorts of entertaining on Twitter.
And really, Fake Katt Williams said it best TWICE:
But why Ciara trying to fight Rihanna tho? Men aint supposed to hit women.
about 13 hours ago via web
pstt @ciara say sum bout her forehead
about 14 hours ago via web
via MTO (I know, I know)
Will UsWeekly make up their damn minds?! One minute, they're out screaming that RiRi yodeled out "Oh no no" when Ryan Phillippe offered to take her on a magic peen ride. But now they're saying that Ryan did in fact earn a small fry from McDonald's by getting his super sized freak on with Ronald's sister from another mister RiRi. AND a few days ago Star Magazine flapped their shit about how Ryan and Amanda Seyfried are still going at it. We get it! Ryan's A WHORE!
One source told UsWeekly that Ryan tried to get into RiRi's Barbadian triangle over a week ago, but she wasn't having it. However, a different source says that RiRi did take Ryan's invitation and it wasn't the first time. The source, who has obviously smelled Ryan's saliva on RiRi's crotch, said this: "She thinks he's hot. They totally had sex. And it wasn't even the first time! They initially hooked up when things were strained with [Rihanna's ex] Matt Kemp back in early December."
Seriously, I haven't thought about Ryan Phillippe's sex life this much since a few minutes ago when I Googled "Ryan Phillippe Naked." But the time before that was when one of my friends said that Ryan must give good lady head since he mumbles like his jaw is operated by a lazy hamster. Apparently, mumblers know how to nibble. I don't know. But it would explain why RiRi's been twerking her crotch like her clit's got the vapors.
Before we belly flop into this mess of dick grease and red dye stains, can I just say that I've been trying so hard to exorcise RiRi's "Oh naaa naaa naaa" shit song from my head for weeks. It follows me wherever I go and terrorizes me no matter what I'm doing. Yesterday, I was FINALLY able to wash it out and replace it with Lady Analbelly's (or whatever their name is) "Need You Now" (you can file your judgments here). Yes, I know it's like replacing caca with vomit, but I was happy to flush the NA-NA from my head finally. But last night, as I was waiting in line at the grocery store to buy jelly beans and a bag of carrots, a child eviling with a raggedy ponytail started singing THAT SONG out loud. This confirms that children are creatures from the dark side who can scan your mind for weaknesses and use it against you when you least expect it. And now the NA NA is back thanks to that little girl with a jacked up ponytail. Moving on...
The Sun's technical engineers built a microscopic BlackBerry dingle that crawled into RiRi's phone and sucked in all the text messages she sends out including the ones to Colin Farrell. Apparently, Colin and RiRi got hard for one another when they met on Graham Norton's show last December. They exchanged numbers and she's been filling his BlackBerry screen with all kinds of naughty shit every since. Colin, who is split up from the mother of his child, can't wait to make their sext adventures happen in real life. The Sun's source went on, "Colin was taken aback by some of the texts. He reckons he might well be in there. They're both single, so why not? Colin and Rihanna have made plans to meet up in LA when their hectic schedules allow."
So this story is about two individuals who are currently partaking in the dry sport of text fucking and will most likely never take it further than that... Okay. But this totally reminds me of one of the best (see: most pathetic) sext sessions I've ever had. It was the dude from Oregon that I met online. This motherfucker never wanted to talk on the phone and I quickly learned why. He was like the Fellini of sexting! It was a serious art for him. Dude would write detailed stage directions like: *walking into the room while slowly ripping my shirt off over my head*. Stupid shit like that. I'm a wham, bam, let's do this kind of bitch, so I finally asked him to send me a picture of his peen. This ho wrote back, "Let me describe it instead." BITCH WHAT?! Stop harlequin-ing my ass, get in front of a bathroom mirror and take that dick shot! Seriously, the only reason they have cameras on phones is for dick picture taking! But I let him continue to write his soft core text play, because it was funny.
I'd try to play along, but sometimes I'd forget the format and he'd remind me in a not-so-polite way how he does things. He'd text in parenthesis: "(don't forget to use the * when describing an action)." Shit. Since when did sexting become a community college English class? I should've received credits for that shit. Oh, how many times I wanted to type: "*CUT. SCENE. *going to get a bag of cheese curls*"
It was seriously one of the most unsexiest things I've ever done and that's saying a lot. The only thing he made me want to grab was my throat to keep from laughing.
After Cyrano de Bergerwhack ate up my text message plan by writing the worst romance novel ever, it was time for the grand finale and I really couldn't wait. The anticipation might have given me a twitch or two. It was like waiting for the last episode of Lost. And then it came, this ho actually typed out: "oh my god *i'm cumming so hard* xcvdjfdsalkjflaksdfjoidfuoudfads123adfjkljsdeoi."
I STILL CAN'T.
What the hell was that tossed salad of characters supposed to mean? Bitch came so hard that his cum drops shot at the keys? Or that he had a full body seizure which made his fingers pound against the keys before conveniently landing on "send"? No, thanks. I turned off my phone and made a mental note to block his number. Ho went too far.
And now that I think about it, it was probably Colin Farrell.
In case you missed it, here's stunt queen extraordinaire Kanye West putting every colored light bulb at Spencer Gifts to the test in his video for "All of the Lights" featuring Kid Cudi and RiRi who is wearing one of The Slut Dress' newborn babies as a top. And in case your name is Serene Branson, you should not press "play" on this technicolor "shot in my mother's garage" mess because it will induce another complex migraine and heavy burtations will occur!
Ryan Phillippe probably thinks he still has the Cruel Intentions stuff that makes vaginas blow their panty covers off, but he learned the soft way that not all tricks are licking their pussy lips when he licks his face lips. Ryan is supposedly touching nipples with that Amanda Seyfried girl, but she was the last thing on his mind at Gucci's pre-Grammy party at SoHo House in L.A. on Saturday night. A nosy witness bitch tells UsWeekly that Ryan slid up to Rihannie and tried to get her to practice her erotic chicken dance moves on his crotch, but she straight up yawned in his face. RiRi let him know that she'd rather hug a pillow than hug his dick. From UsWeekly:
"He said something to the effect of, 'What are you doing tonight?' and she signaled 'sleep,'" a witness tells the new Us Weekly. "She was trying to be polite, but she was genuinely not interested. When a couple of her friends came up to join the conversation, he just walked away." The actor, 36, had more luck later that night, when he was seen leaving a house party with a pretty brunette.
If Ryan asked me what I was doing later, I'd open my mouth but it wouldn't be to yawn. For real. But seriously, what is it with Ryan getting hard for chicks that look like they just fell out of an episodes of The Simpsons? Amanda is like a blonde Jessica Lovejoy and we already know that RiRi is the Barbadian Sideshow Bob. If you want to get down Ryan's chonies, just tape a Moe the Bartender mask to your butt or tell him that you've got a (NSFL) Homer Simpson tattoo on your snatch.