I Don't Like Jokes
Last year, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen's fashion line The Row put out a backpack that looked like a giant, pregnant roach and it cost $39,000. It sold out, because sometimes extremely rich bitches get bored with burning their money in copper fire pits, so they spend it on caca instead. Then this past summer, the Trollsens made an anti-PETA fur purse that sold for almost $17,000. A bargain! But now they're taking overpriced foolery all the way by selling this crocodile backpack covered in fake prescription pills. They want $55,000 for a backpack that looks like Neely O'Hara barfed all over it. If you want to spend $55,000 on Leatherhead's dead mom, then please spend an extra few dollars to fly to Los Angeles so I can slap the shit out of you. You can choose the airport I'll meet you at (Note: Please choose Burbank or Long Beach, because I don't want to deal with LAX traffic. Thank you.)
The Daily Mail says that artist Damien Hirst, the one who killed Jaws, collaborated with the Trollsens to make a bag that costs as much as a car. I like how they use the word "collaborated." Please, you know they were all sitting around a coffee table, doing lines and getting drunk when Mary-Kate dropped a bottle of Vicodin on a bag and they're all like, "FASHION! ART!"
Only twelve will be sold (because there's only twelve dumbasses in the world who will spend their money on this) and proceeds will go to UNICEF.
In all seriousness, if you really want this, let's just go to Wilson's Leather together, buy the cheapest backpack there and then Super Glue some pills on it. It'll probably look better than this shit. But why would you want pills on your backpack anyway? Do you know how many Lohans will be chasing after you, trying to nom nom nom on your bag? Do you really want to turn around and find Dina Lohan chewing on your pocketbook? That'll ruin your day.
It took Christian Slater 4 hours of waiting to vote on Election Day, but he voted in Miami. Christian gave himself a pat on the taint for being a responsible American and all that. But then a few weeks later, The Miami-Dade County canvassing board let a bitch know that masturbating with a banana peel for 4 hours would've been a better use of his time than standing in the voting line for 4 hours, because his vote didn't count. Christian's signature didn't match the signature they have on file, so they put an X over his votes. Yes, they did Christian Slater like that.
Christian tweeted a picture of the letter today. And here's the tweets about his Voting Day Drama on November 6th:
Every vote count...except for Christian Slater's. I know, I know, this is BREAKING NEWS and yet another nugget for our overflowing "Florida" file. But I brought it up, because I really feel that from now on we should refer to Christian Slater as "Christina D. Slater." It has a much better ring to it. Saying "Christina D. Slater" makes me lift my shoulders while winking.
Clay Aiken, Simon Cowell's furry tit pies and even the original Underwood, Blair Underwood, would make more sense as Maria than Carrie Underwood, but Carrie Underwood's the one who got the starring role in NBC's live broadcast of The Sound of Music. Craig Zadan and Neil Meron, the dudes who produce Smash, and NBC announced this morning that American Idol season 4 winner and country star Carrie Underwears will be SANGING to the von Trapp chirruns on NBC next December. NBC's president said this in a statement to Playbill:
"Speaking for everyone at NBC, we couldn't be happier to have the gifted Carrie Underwood take up the mantle of the great Maria von Trapp. She was an iconic woman who will now be played by an iconic artist.”
First Lindsay Lohan as Elizabeth Taylor, then Zoe Saldana as Nina Simone and now this? What's next? Ruben Studdard as Aretha Franklin (I wish)? Hollywood is truly fucking with our emotions and they love it. But I'm still all for this casting and only because it probably pissed Taylor Swift off. Taylor just threw a mean mug at her cat and pushed away her plate of heart-shaped pancakes with heart-shaped strawberries on them. This is really going to drive Taylor into her Emo phase.
Hopefully, NBC country-fies all of their Sound of Music remake by casting Billy Ray Cyrus as Captain von Trapp, Dolly Parton as Mother Superior (I'm serious about that one), the Duggars as the von Trapp children and Kenny Chesney as Elsa.
Here's Carrie Underwears singing "The Sound of Music" a few years ago:
Poor girl left her house for a milkshake, she didn't leave her house for a Kartrashian. That's a face that clearly says, "I lost my appetite." I feel your pain, girl.
Kim Kardashian is used to swallowing a thick, creamy load for a dollar, so she was the obvious choice to open the newest Millions of Milkshakes in Kuwait. The future United Nations Goodwill Ambassador isn't only in the Middle East to pimp out milkshakes, she's also there to learn more about the Israel-Palestine conflict. To which I say:
And "Not Here For This" girl's reaction is also my reaction to the Gosselin milkshake, the Lindsay Lohan milkshake and Kim's dress. Kim looks straight out of a 90s remake of Tron. If Kanye is trying to stop the rumors that he likes to lick peen by dressing Kim like shit, it's working. He can stop now.
This could be fake, or it could be viral marketing for fuckery, or it could be made of one hundred percent truthiness since there's not a law requiring hos to have working brain cells in order to procreate. Gizmodo, Mashable and @AwkwardMsgs all posted a Facebook status from a couple who named their newborn baby girl Hashtag Jameson. HASHTAG JAMESON. We've officially lost our right to name children. Just give all future babies serial numbers from now on, because this child abuse must be put to an end.
If you're thinking this mess can't be real and nobody with a heart would ever hate a newborn that much, let me remind your ass that a dude in Egypt named his kid Facebook. The laws of real-life foolery know no bounds.
But for real, the stoner and drunk in me (which is pretty much all of me) actually likes that disaster of a name. They can call her Hash for short. And when she writes her name the way it's supposed to be written, it looks like she's promoting whiskey. #Jameson!
Elmo will have to start turning tricks on Sesame Street's ho stroll to pay his legal bills, because he's got another lawsuit to deal with. When it rains gay models accusing Elmo of statutory rape, it pours gay models accusing Elmo of statutory rape. I guess. The NYDN says that a now 29-year-old unnamed dude who's going by the name John Doe has a filed lawsuit in Manhattan Federal Court this morning against the new Michael Jackson, Elmo.
John Doe's lawyer John Herman said that just like Cecil Singleton, his client met Kevin Clash on a gay phone chat line in 2000 when he was 16. They talked for a couple of days before Kevin Clash invited John Doe over to his apartment to get it on. Kevin apparently told John Doe he was 30, but John Doe figured out there were way more than 30 rings around Kevin's trunk when they met in person. They continued to bump bare nipples for a few years and John Doe realized who Kevin Clash was in 2003 when he saw "Elmo dolls, an Emmy award and photographs of Elmo with movie stars" in his apartment. John Doe started writing a book about doing illegal sex with Elmo in 2009 and his lawyer will present some of the pages to the media in a press conference today. Oh, and John Doe's lawyer is the same dude who is representing Cecil Singleton.
Of course, TMZ got a hold of the lawsuit and in the documents, John Doe says that Kevin Clash used booze to get into his chonies. Kevin boozed John Doe up and kept him that way. Kevin and John Doe didn't do butt sex until John Doe was 18. But when John Doe was 16, they got into some oral sex stuff and Kevin did "digital penetration of John's anus."
Yes, I had to look up "digital penetration." I kept picturing Elmo sticking a robot dildo in a dude's no-no and I don't like that picture. "Digital" is just a fancy way of saying "fingers." So yeah, Elmo finger fucked John Doe and John Doe has been butt burping up red fur ever since.
And if Kevin Clash's dumb ass wins both of the lawsuits against him, I really hope Big Bird releases a white dove outside of the courthouse.
I really can't stand any of Alicia Keys' songs, because they all sound like commercials to me. Examples: "Empire State of Mind" is a song for the New York State tourism board. "You Don't Know My Name" is a song for Ginkgo Biloba and/or Alzheimer's medications. "Superwoman" is a song for Kotex and/or Centrium Silver for Women. And "Girl On Fire" is a song for Gonorrhea awareness.
And now I'm really mad at Alicia, because she just had to ruin the magical and wondrous Gummi Bear theme song by screaming it out on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon last night. It wasn't not funny and it wasn't not necessary. Just because Alicia ruined a trick's marriage doesn't mean she has to ruin everything else including a piece of my childhood. Alicia better stay away from the Muppet Babies theme song AND the Beverly Hills Teens theme song.
If you need something to clean your ears out, here you go:
I don't like that it took two accusations of illegal boy boning, but I am glad that Elmo can't let out another nerve-killing, soul-butchering annoying cackle for now. Elmo is temporarily mute today, because his voice box has quit this bitch and is done fisting Muppets. After 28 years of being the voice of Elmo, Kevin Clash is no longer the voice of Elmo. Sesame Street released this statement to everyone today:
Sesame Workshop's mission is to harness the educational power of media to help all children the world over reach their highest potential. Kevin Clash has helped us achieve that mission for 28 years, and none of us, especially Kevin, want anything to divert our attention from our focus on serving as a leading educational organization. Unfortunately, the controversy surrounding Kevin's personal life has become a distraction that none of us want, and he has concluded that he can no longer be effective in his job and has resigned from Sesame Street. This is a sad day for Sesame Street.
Usually, when a dude resigns from his job while in the middle of a sexo escandalo, it means that more accusers are about to come forward and another one has. 30-something Cecil Singleton, the one on the right serving up some subway-style El Debarge-ness, has gone to TMZ and showed them on the Elmo doll where Elmo tickled him when he was 15. Cecil now joins Sheldon Stephens in The Elmo's Underage Pieces Club.
Sheldon allegedly got around $125,000 to go away, but Cecil wants around $5 million. Cecil is suing Kevin Clash for $5 million, because he says he "did not become aware that he had suffered adverse psychological and emotional effects from Kevin Clash's sexual acts and conduct until 2012."
In Cecil's lawsuit, he says that he met Kevin Clash on a gay phone chat line in 1993. Cecil was 15 at the time and Kevin was 32. The two met in person and Cecil says Kevin tried to gain his trust by taking him to fancy dinners and giving him money. Cecil says that he wasn't the only one and Kevin regularly had sex with teenage boys he met on the chat line.
This mess was already a come-to-life nightmare and now it's an even bigger come-to-life nightmare, and a lot has to do with 900 numbers from the 90s being brought up. I completely blocked out the tragic memory of lying to my mom when she asked my why there was $30 worth of 1-900 charges on her phone bill. To think, I could've told her that I was just having a G-rated conversation with Elmo. UGH!
I'm sure the next accuser is going to show all of us a face-less, shirtless picture that Elmo e-mailed him after meeting in an AOL chat room. I hate Elmo even more now. Put that sucio bitch in prison and make Grover the star of Sesame Street for once and for all.
UPDATE: Cecil Singleton's lawyer apparently made a typo on the documents. Cecil says he's currently 24 years old and not in his 30s. The alleged abuse happened in 2003, not 1993. Wait, so gay phone chat lines existed in 2003?!
(Picture of Cecil Singleton via MySpace, and no, I am not going to comment on his dewey peach hair color)
At last night's American Music Awards, Xtina gave all of us a day off from looking at her nasty heavy flow day weave and wore a wig she snatched right off of the head of Raven from RuPaul's Drag Race. Raven can now write that wig off as a charitable donation since she's helping those less fortunate. While I'm happy that somebody finally threw a maxi-pad on Xtina's period hair and got rid of it, I'm still trying to figure out what's happening to her ass in those pictures below.
Should I expect CNN to report the extinction of butt pads, because Xtina bought and wore all of them to the AMAs last night? Did Cee Lo Green try to sneak into the AMAs by hiding in the back of bitch's dress? I know Xtina's got a big ass, but that dress is doing weird things to it. It's make her look a hormone-fed chicken in amateur drag. This is some Foster Farms pin-up shit.
Xtina also performed and the only reason to press play is for the gay pride explosion at the end:
My ears will never be the same after listening to Xtina sound like a banshee getting attacked with a chainsaw, but at least she gave us a queen with earthquake titties (at the 3:39 mark). So there's that.
Taylor Swift is currently humping her way to her next #1 album, but she took a little time away from skipping through the lavender fields with the mop-headed twink from One Direction who I always mistake for Maggie Gyllenhaal. Taylor dropped Harry Styles' hand for a second to comfort a friend of need. Taylor gave her best friend 4 eva a shoulder to weep on, because Selena Gomez still isn't over Justin Bieber embarrassing her by wearing the most fucked up toddler outfit ever.
Taylor and Selena had dinner at an Italian restaurant and I'm sure the former told the latter not to get mad, get THAT MONEY by writing a song about the douche who hurt her in the heart. Then afterward, they drove to Selena's house, got into their pajamas and shared a raw cookie dough log while laughing about how they don't need stupid smelly boys when they've got each other! As they got higher and higher on raw cookie dough, they rolled around on the carpet, giggled.... and I'm going to stop now before I write the lezzie fan fiction that NOBODY wants to read. I've already gone too far.