Every university's holocaust studies class can stop arguing the question "Anne Frank a Belieber: yay or oy vay?" because her stepsister has finally spoken. The Telegraph asked Anne's childhood friend and stepsister Eva Schloss what she thinks about the Biebs leaving the comment "Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber" in the guest book of the Anne Frank Museum. Eva said this:
“It’s so childish. She probably would have been a fan. Why not? He’s a young man and she was a young girl, and she liked film stars and music. They make a lot of fuss about everything that is connected with Anne Frank.”
One of two things is happening here:
1. Eva is not about to throw herself against the slobbery wrath of the crazed Beliebers and she doesn't want to be woken up at night by those crazy babies calling her to threateningly goo goo ga ga at her over the phone. So she played it safe and stayed on the good side of the Beliebers.
2. Eva is defending the yodeling fetus, because she's the one who's a Belieber. Anne Frank totally would've been a Directioner, so she and Eva would've hated each other.
And I guess this means that the words "...would have been a Belieber" will be chiseled into Anne Frank's gravestone now.
Somewhere in England (isn't it always "somewhere in England" with Goop?), Goopy Paltrow is thinking to herself, "Ugh, cupping is SO 9 years ago," as she looks at these pictures of a fellow member of The Brad Pitt's Ex-Pieces Club Jennifer Aniston at a screening for Lifetime's Call Me Crazy in Los Angeles last night. Because Jennifer Aniston wanted everyone to talk about her cupping marks, she wore some weird strapless, decapitated tuxedo outfit thing. Because Jennifer Aniston wanted everyone to think she doesn't want everyone talking about her cupping, she sloppily covered up the marks with some light ass foundation.
Cupping is a form of ancient Chinese medicine that's supposed to stimulate circulation by attaching glass cups to the skin via suction or heat. Some people are into that shit. Personally, I like to stimulate circulation through the other kind of cupping: cupping the balls during a beej. That's just me. (Side note: I wonder if cupping my butt will stimulate circulation to my b-hole again... Hmm...)
I can't wait to see how the tabloids tie Aniston's cupping marks to her desperately wanting a baby or desperately wanting to be a wife. We all know that drunk ass Aniston only got cupped, because she thinks that stimulating circulation means that the tequila will run through her veins faster. Bitch might be on to something...
I haven't really covered Beyonce and Jay-Z's controversial trip to Cuba, because who really gives a shit and this is coming from a ho who would live-blog Basement Baby's trip to Tijuana if she took one. Anyway, some politicians in Florida jumped out of their chonies about this and are trying to get the Treasury Department to find out if Beyonce and Jay-Z broke the embargo. The Treasury Department said that they ok'd their trip to Cuba, but they wouldn't say why (SPOILER ALERT: Beyonce and Jay-Z got an approval letter from their dad Obama.) Billboard says that Beyonce and Jay-Z's trip was arranged by Academic Arrangements Abroad, a New York-based educational company that offers group travel to Cuba.
Send "The Jayz's" (copyright: Dionne Davenport) the Guantanamo! Better yet, let's punish them by making them take the freeway over and over again.
Here's the two investors in communism strolling around Cuba a few days ago. I think I'm more concerned by the fact that shameless Beyonce has taken her copy+paste act way too far by stealing clothes from Basement Baby's dirty laundry basket.
Everybody should take this picture that Kim Kardashian threw up on Instagram today as a direct threat, because this is only the beginning and in a couple of months we'll be looking at her knocked up naked body on the cover of National Geographic. Brace your eyeballs now.
While covered in more face paint than a drag queen clown in a beauty pageant, Kim rolled up her shirt and showed off the skin dome covering her almost 6-month-old fetus. You know, something in the milk ain't clean about that picture. Where are the tiny handprints from her Kimye fetus banging on her bump while screaming for someone to save them from those fame whores? Why isn't a giant dollar sign glowing over her belly? Yeah, this shit is totally 'shopped!
In other Kartrashian non-news, yesterday Ray J twatted out the cover of his single "I Hit It First" and it was obviously a pixelated picture of a pre-Kanye Kim. Today, TMZ posted a few lyrics from this mess of a song:
She might move on to rappers and ballplayers
But we all know I hit it first.
I had her head going North and her ass going South
But now baby chose to go West
No matter where she goes or who she knows
She still belongs in my bed.
Is Ray J really trying to say that he hit it before EVERYBODY including Kanye's ass? This bitch. If you lined up every one of Kim's fuck partners from the first one she hit to the last one she hit, and stood at the front of the line, you'd need several long range lenses to see Ray J. But nice try.
UPDATE: Ray J's musical STUNT QUEEN move just leaked and here it is if you need that in your ears today.
I hate that I'm going to be singing "IhitIhitIhitIhit" all damn weekend.
Jeremy Irons Tries To Clear Up His Whole "Gay Marriage Might Lead To Fathers Marrying Their Sons For Tax Reasons" Argument
Jeremy Irons made it really difficult for me to twist my nipples while watching him in Brideshead Revisited when he said in a chat with HuffPost Live that he's worried that same-sex marriage will lead to fathers marrying their sons to get out of paying estate taxes. Those words made White Oprah curse Jeremy Irons' name, because she was planning to marry Lindsay Lohan for that reason alone and he uncovered her scheme!
Jeremy said that he feels like same-sex marriage could "debase" the meaning of marriage and could lead to Kay Jewelers putting out a line of father/son wedding rings. "A kiss begins with INCEST!" But Jeremy says that he isn't anti-gay and he was just brain farting up a thought during a discussion about same-sex marriage. Jeremy posted an open letter onto his website and tried to clear some shit up.
I am deeply concerned that from my on line discussion with the Huffington Post, it has been understood that I hold a position that is anti gay. This is as far from the truth of me as to say that I believe the earth is flat.
I was taking part in a short discussion around the practical meaning of Marriage, and how that institution might be altered by it becoming available to same-sex partners. Perhaps rather too flippantly I flew the kite of an example of the legal quagmire that might occur if same sex marriage entered the statute books, by raising the possibility of future marriage between same sex family members for tax reasons, (incest being illegal primarily in order to prevent inbreeding, and therefore an irrelevance in non reproductive relationships). Clearly this was a mischievous argument, but nonetheless valid.
I am clearly aware that many gay relationships are more long term, responsible and even healthier in their role of raising children, than their hetero equivalents, and that love often creates the desire to mark itself in a formal way, as Marriage would do. Clearly society should find a way of doing this. I had hoped that even on such a subject as this, where passions run high, the internet was a forum where ideas could be freely discussed without descending into name-calling.
I believe that is what it could be, but it depends on all of us behaving, even behind our aliases, in a humane, intelligent and open way.
"The internet was a forum where ideas could be freely discussed without descending into name-calling...." The fuck kind of internet has he been going on? Calling a trick a name on the internet is like breathing in oxygen in real life.
Jeremy Irons shouldn't have wasted his time typing out a response when he could've been using his time to propose to his son (who looks like this. Yeah, I'd gay marry him all the way.) Jeremy should've just let Stephen Colbert respond for him officially, because Stephen Colbert put it best:
The prophet of Facebook, Jada Pinkett Smith, is always up for opening her mouth to talk about her marriage and she's already told everyone that Will and her are boning all the time. They bone until their fuck parts fall off, then they slap their fuck parts back on and keep on boning. So because Jada is all for talking about her marriage, HuffPo Live asked her about the rumor that she and Will are allowed to pass their genitals to who ever they want, whenever they want. Jada spit out a quick "no" and then she explained that Will can stick his dick in anything he wants as long as he can look himself in the mirror afterward. Jada said this shit:
"I think people get that idea, because Will and I are very relaxed with one another. You know, from how I've answered questions like, 'Girl, what would you do if he came home and this and that and that and being married to a big superstar like Will, how do you deal with other women"' I've always told Will, 'You can do whatever you want as long as you can look at yourself in the mirror and be okay.' Because at the end of the day, Will is his own man. I'm here as his partner, but he is his own man. He has to decide who he wants to be and that's not for me to do for him. Or vice versa."
So what I'm getting from this is that Will Smith doesn't own a mirror and hasn't looked at one in years and he uses his iPhone camera to check to see if his forehead needs another visit from the Botox needle. Jada didn't say anything about looking at himself in his iPhone camera. And somewhere Tiger Woods is cursing at God for not making Jada Pinkett a straight white woman with blond hair. He would've married her so hard.
Here's Will and a Madame-fied Jada at the premiere of Free Angela and all Political Prisoners in NYC last night.
These pictures of Heidi Klum, her bodyguard/fuck piece Martin Kristen, her son and nannies were taken on March 27th, just a few days before the ocean in Hawaii tried to swallow most of them. Entertainment Tonight has the pictures of Heidi and Martin turning themselves into warriors of the ocean to pull her son Henry and his two nannies out of the ocean. Heidi tells ET that when a riptide tried to eat her son Henry, she ran into the ocean, punched the waves, kneed a shark, karate chopped a jellyfish and choked out Ursula the Sea Witch before saving everybody. And Heidi did it while her nipples were popping out (click here for the pics).
"We got pulled into the ocean by a big wave. Of course, as a mother, I was very scared for my child and everyone else in the water. Henry is a strong swimmer and was able to swim back to land. We were able to get everyone out safely."
There's a Seal joke somewhere in there.....
The real story here is that Heidi has TWO nannies for one kid. So two people get to go on an all expenses-paid luxury trip to Hawaii and all they have to do is splash around in the ocean with a kid while Heidi humps on her bodyguard boyfriend behind a tree. And if they're getting pulled to their watery graves by a riptide, a paparazzo will take pictures so they have evidence when they need to sue Heidi's ass for millions for endangering their lives on the job. Get all of us an application!
Anthony Ciccone is back and he's once again crying to the media about how his younger sister Madonna would rather gargle her coochie out with dirty hydrangea water than spend one second with him. Anthony is pretty much estranged from the entire Ciccone family and he says that they've all turned their backs on him when he needed them most. Anthony has been living on the streets of Traverse City, Michigan for three years and he spends his day guzzling from a bottle of booze wrapped in a paper bag. Anthony did have a job at the Ciccone family vineyard, but he was fired for drinking the sweet nectar straight out of the vat and now he gets money by begging on the streets (and spilling the shit about his sister to tabloids).
The Daily Mail caught up with Anthony Ciccone and they found out that his ass spent a month in jail after he was arrested for drunkenly yelling at kids in a church (that's my future). Anthony couldn't pay the fine, so they locked him up. Anthony tells the DM that even though his dad sometimes brings him leftovers, he thinks his father would be happy if he froze to death on the streets and he also said that his trillionaire sister can't be bothered with him.
"Madonna doesn’t give a shit if I’m dead or alive. She lives in her own world. I never loved her in the first place, she never loved me. We never loved each other. My father would be very happy if I died of hypothermia and then he would not have to worry about it anymore. He’s old school, he grew up in the depression. He doesn’t want to be bothered, he’s lived his life you see. He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t want me to be me, he wants me to be somebody else. He thinks the way I live is intentional. He simply doesn’t know me."
Anthony blamed the state of his life on his family. Anthony says that they aren't helping him and all he wants is a job. Apparently, Madge has paid for him to go to rehab several times. When the DM asked if he thinks he needs rehab, he farted out a Lohan-approved line:
"I’m a human being, you can call me what you want. [Alcoholic] is a label, I don’t like it. I don’t need brain surgery, I merely need love and care of family and friends."
A worker at the Ciccone family vineyard told the DM that the family is afraid Anthony will really drink himself to death if they give him his job back. They'll only take him back if he quits the bottle for good. And Anthony ended the interview by saying that he doesn't think Madge owes him anything:
"Evidently various people have been pestering [Madonna] about matters of neglect regarding family and such. I think she's probably a little bit pissed off with me for even troubling her. But I've never asked my sister for anything. She don't owe me nothing. That's her shit, man, she made her money, she worked for it, I've got no beef. If she wants to live that way, that's her thing."
And that ends our yearly visit with Anthony Ciccone. Till next year. You know, if Anthony Ciccone really wants to make some money, he should write a tell-all where he can spill all of Madge's childhood secrets and talk about what a bitch-hearted bitch-faced bitch she is. That shameless whore Christopher Ciccone knows what I'm talking about.
Because Goopy Paltrow regularly serves her kids a delicious dinner of hallowed-out fennel seeds with a side of organic lettuce sweat, she says that Apple and Moses Martin sometimes get hunger pangs in their stomachs. ("Privileged kids of privileged asshole millionaires are just like us!" - the starving orphans of Ethiopia) But in this week's edition of POOP, Goopy says that Apple and Moses don't always eat a gluten-free, sugar-free, fun-free diet. They get one Coke per week and sometimes she lets Apple swallow down the top food group on the Spears family food guide pyramid: CHEETOS! Goop spat out this shit:
I tried to start them off with all of the right foods but as they got older, the lure of Oreos and cotton candy outweighed the lure of carrots with hummus. And that’s all a part of childhood and I love Oreos too, so I completely understand. I try to make sure that what is on their plate at home is nutritious and tasty and then I loosen way up on the reigns when we are out. They love a brown rice stir-fry but they also love their 'Coke of the week'. My daughter gravitates toward fresh fruit and raw nuts but will inhale a bag of hot Cheetos at the airport. It's all about balance.
Yeah, Goopy's idea of Oreos are probably imported Belgian dark chocolate truffles filled with cream made from the milk of an Iberian Lynx and her idea of hot Cheetos are slivers of gold-flecked cheddar puffed up with distilled air, but at least the Goopy kids get to eat something other than grass tips every now and again. They're still going to turn to a life of a crime in a few years and by that I mean they're going to rob grocery stores for junk food. "Give me all the boxes of hot Cheetos you've got in the back or I'll tie you down and make you read my mom's newsletter out loud!"
And White Oprah probably saw the headline "Gwyneth Paltrow lets her kids have one Coke per week" and immediately called CPS. Giving your kid only one line of coke per week is child abuse.
Surprisingly enough, all the Supreme Court Justices didn't stop the Prop 8 hearings yesterday to announce that after much consideration, they've decided to overturn Prop 8 and also make marriage legal for everyone everywhere, because when it came down to it they realized that they really, really just want to see Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie get married. But that didn't happen, so Brad and St. Angie are still the opposite of married.
St. Angie graced the Congo with her holy presence a few days ago and when she got there, she wasn't wearing the huge 5,000-carat diamond engagement ring that is so damn expensive she could probably buy the entire Congo with it. Instead, St. Angie wore a demure gold wedding band, which made some hos start screaming about how she must've gotten secret married to Brad Pitt. But no, she didn't. St. Angie left her Fortress of Solitude-sized ring at home, because wearing a diamond ring that big in the Congo is wrong for many reasons and because wearing a wedding band will get her a tabloid cover or two.
While serving up some "2008 Michael Jackson meets business woman Morticia Addams" realness, Angie strolled through LAX yesterday and a mere mortal from TMZ dared asked the human halo of infinite light if she got married. She spat out a "no." Then when he turned off the camera, she turned around, wrapped her zombie witch hands around his neck and swallowed his soul until all that was left of him was a pile of bone dust. That settles that!