Smoke A Bowl
When Anne Hathaway showed up to the Oscars wearing a powder pink Prada nipple dress, Ghouliana Rancic from E! (or somebody like that) said that she was supposed to wear a Valentino gown, but she changed at the last minute after finding out that someone else was wearing a dress that looked just like it. ESCANDALO! That somebody else was Amanda Seyfried. Because Valentino issued a press release to the media hours before the Oscars saying that Anne was going to wear them, she released some super annoying public apology to them. Well, now UsWeekly is saying that at rehearsals the day before the Oscars, Amanda Seyfried showed Anne a picture of the Alexander McQueen dress she was going to wear and Tracy Flick's overachieving idol lost her mind. UsWeekly put it like this:
"Anne was like 'WTF?!'" the source reports. "She started throwing a fit!" The 30-year-old Best Supporting Actress victor, however, "never told Amanda she had to change the dress." Still, Seyfried, 27, was ruffled by Hathaway's tirade. "Amanda didn't want to deal with it and left" the rehearsal, the source notes.
I'm with Anne Hathaway on this. She wore a copy of that Valentino gown in all of the dozens of dress rehearsals she had for her Oscar acceptance speech and everything was perfect until that come-to-life Simpsons character had to RUIN HER WHOLE FUCKING LIFE by wearing a dress that looked like hers. How would you feel if you had to change your costume the day before opening night? But Anne handled it all wrong. Anne should've put on the fake smile she's known for and then later that night, she should've broken into Amanda's hotel room and poured itching powder all over that copy cat dress. Anne failed herself by not asking, "What would Eve Harrington do?"
If you have a classic woman's fragrance - one that brings to mind style, sophistication and polish - and you want to put a fresh perspective on it, you should go down to the bus station, pick the sexiest one of the passed out drunks, put him immediately on camera and don't hand him a script. Because that's what Chanel No. 5 did in their latest ad campaign. Okay, that's not really a homeless person, it's Brad Pitt looking like he smells like a homeless person. Coco's grave just spun to the surface.
Brad is the first male spokesmodel for Chanel No. 5. Great choice, because when I look at him up there, I get an immediate urge to spray lots of perfume. Even more amazing than the image though, is the pure poetry spewing forth from Brad's please-Chapstick-me-bitch lips.
"It's not a journey. Every journey ends, but we go on. The world turns and we turn with it. Plans disappear, dreams take over. But wherever I go, there you are. My luck, my fate, my fortune. Chanel No.5. Inevitable."
I'll have to wait till I get home and get really stoned to understand any of that, but I'm sure it's deep. Michael K summed up the entire vibe perfectly: "I hope in honor of Brad being their new face, they come out with a bong version of the bottle."
Alec Baldwin couldn't let another week go by without shoving the fear into a paparazzo and so outside of this apartment in Manhattan this morning, he proved to all of us once again that he should've played the grizzly in The Edge. TMZ says that the pap Alec went after has apparently been bothering the residents in his building. Since Alec is a protector of his own turf and loves a good reason to rage until the veins on his ass lips pop open, he squeezed the pap's arm while spitting out words of sweet love like "I want you to shut the fuck up" and "I know you got raped by a priest."
No word yet if the pap plans to file a police report, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we find out that Alec squeezed his left arm so hard it that it cuff off his circulation and he had to get that arm amputated. His lawyer Gloria Allred will tell us all about it during a press conference next week. So if you're a pap who needs some quick summer money and don't mind a tidal wave of hot Alec Baldwin saliva on your face: then just shove a camera at him and speed dial Gloria Allred's number as he chokes out your arm. INSTACASH!
Here's the video (via The Superficial) of Alec being Alec:
This is some serious comedy art at its finest. Alec calls the pap a "little girl" while holding a pink unicorn pillow pet. Alec might be an asshole, but he's a genius asshole.
And just like that, you've found the perfect dress to wear to the 4/20 prom tomorrow! At last night's Tribeca Film Festival Premiere of the Five Year Engagement, Emily Blunt wore dress that Betty Draper would wear if Snoop Dogg was the head costume designer on Mad Men. Emily is giving us good shit eleganza, but she should've went all the damn way. This is missing some tiny bong earrings, blood shot eyes, a sequined Doritos bag as a purse, rolling paper bracelets, high heels with a grinder in the platform and hair styled so that it looks like she's been running her hands through her mane like crazy because it feels so soooooooooooft. Emily's stylist, Willie Nelson, needs to really blow the theme harder in our eyes next time.
It's a good thing that RiRi wasn't around, because she would've stuffed Emily in some rolling papers and smoked that bitch up!
Here's a few more tricks and tramps at last night's premiere: Jason Segel, Olivia Wilde, Shaun White, Amy Poehler shoulder hugging Aubrey Plaza, Cuba Gooding Jr., Kim Cattrall, Victor Garber, Robert DeNiro with his wife Grace Hightower and Leelee Sobieski looking like a creepy lady you meet in the empty aisle of a book store only to find out later that she's the original owner who died 65 years ago (dun dun dun)!
Back in 2010, some of us developed an addiction to shoving Valium pills into our ears from listening to Mel Gibson pop his anus veins by screaming all kinds of beautiful romantic love lyrics at Oksana Grigorieva. Well, lube up your ear holes and grab a Valium, because Mel is raging again.
Joe Eszterhas, the screenwriter of the masterpiece that is Showgirls who wrote an open letter about how Mel Gibson is still Mel Gibson, gave The Wrap a recording of the glum cunt ranting so hard that he grew a hemorrhoid that eventually popped as he ranted some more. Joe was at Mel's house to work on the script for that movie about the Jewish Hero and Mel delivered one of his signature freakouts. Joe's son recorded some of it.
It's not like Joe should be surprised. If you're a guest at Mel Gibson's house, you should know that instead of turndown service and a chocolate on your pillow, you're going to get a kick to the soul and punch to the ears. If you don't need Mel's voice in your ears today, I've accurately transcribed his rant below:
"GAAARGAAARGAAARGRRRRRR WHY DONT I HAVE THE FIRST DRAFT OF THE MACCABEES GAAAARRRR GRRRRGAAARGRRAAA WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN DOING GGRRRRAAA GRRAAAGRR COCKSUCKER WHORE GRRRRRRGAAAARRR GRRRR WHO THE FUCK WANTS TO EAT GO HAVE SOMETHING TO EAT HURRRRRR AAAAAH GRRRR FUCKING CUNT COCKSUCKER WHORE AAAAAAAAAAAAAH"
That is totally what it sounds like when Herman Munster is trying to push out a hard shit. You know you've listened to too many Mad Mel rants when the only question you have is: I wonder what they were eating? I bet it was latkes. It was totally latkes.
Usher must not have been told that having an overgrown ego that cripples your sense of reason is not considered by the government as an official handicap, because he parked in a spot he wasn't supposed to and it triggered a one-woman shit storm of insanity.
TMZ says that minutes after Usher drove his SUV into one of the handicap spots of a parking lot in Atlanta, a bitch went full crazy on his ass by spraying him in the face with a beer as he sat in the driver's seat. Usher sprayed her back with water, which caused her to start kicking at his SUV. Usher then got out of the car and the mop-headed lunatic went after him while shouting "You don't belong here!" (Insert obligatory YOU MAD.jpg here.) Shit got so real that Fat Elvis had to eat himself up through the grave and take a bus to Atlanta to tame this bruhaha. Watch and weep:
Justin Bieber was born in Usher's uterus, so that asshole motherfucker deserves all the whoops he gets, but even I think that crazy in the long-form Dorothy Hamill wig should've dialed back the insanity a bit. We're only allotted a certain number of public nervous breakdowns before the courts drop a CODE 5150 on our heads and this was not worth it. Bitch went crazy like that gold digging Tameka when Usher suggested they should use a condom so she won't get knocked up with an ATM baby! The reasonable thing to do would've been to call a tow truck, slash his tires, fart on his door handle and then write "I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR JUSTIN BIEBER" on his windshield in red paint. That's how a reasonable person handles shit.
And can somebody let this lady know that Omar Sharif would like a picture with her. You can tell her not to mind the line, Omar likes cutters. While you're doing that, I'll start writing Omar's obit.
Omar Sharif is an Oscar-nominated actor, the star of Lawrence of Arabia and today he's known as a crusty old cunt who will bitch slap a trick if she gets out of line. Literally.
TMZ brings us this clip of 79-year-old Omar posing for pictures with his fans at a film festival in Qatar today when one lady scoots up and stands there. Just like your abuelita when you tried to get a piece of cake at a birthday party without asking, Pepaw Omar growled at the lady and then made her hair fly by slapping at her. That shit was like a chancelta slap without the chancelta. Since no slap down is complete without a serious talking to, Omar lectured the grown woman on the rules of waiting for a picture with a famous corroded asshole. The Washington Post translated that shit like this:
“My dear! I told you I’d get to you afterwards! I just said that and you’re standing here. Put something in your brain! ...........I’m sorry.”
More like put something in your checking account, bitch! Seriously, what gets me is that homegirl is standing there, awkwardly smiling. Is she in shock? Is she not sure what just happened? Does she not know how to react? You always have to be prepared for foolery like this.
When life slaps you with Omar Sharif's hand, you make slapanade out of that shit. You clutch your neck, you scream out in pain, you oh-so dramatically wither to the ground and you shout at your loved ones to call Gloria Allred first, the media second and an ambulance third. Then you scream out your checking account and routing number to Omar Sharif so he knows where to send his Funny Girl royalties from now on. You make it A SCENE and call it A CRIME until it starts to rain money on you. As my spirit animal Khia says, "#GETMONEYBITCH!"
Make no mistake about it. Terrence Howard looks like a dapper, debonair gentleman who only farts into the finest of silk scarves and mostly speaks in a smooth cashmere tone of a Barry White after-cognac burp, but if you mess with his marriage, he will SERENA WILLIAMS out and kill you through the froat! Case in point: Radar says that some moron with dirty ass for brains got a hold of what she thought was Terry Howard's cell phone number.
After getting some liquid courage in her veins, she tried to call Terry but her phone was dead. So she used her male friend's cell phone, called the number and professed her undying love for Bishop Baby Wipes in a voicemail message. But it turns out that the number she thought belonged to Terry actually belonged to his wife. So what is a Terry Howard to do when a strange lady voice verbally blows his ego on his wife's voicemail? Well, he threatens to a kill a trick, of course. Terry left this (click here to get it in your ears) love song on the dude's voicemail:
"Nigga, you been calling my wife... If you call my wife again I'm going to come to your house and I'm going to cut your fucking throat. Understand that. I'm gonna tell you this one time. You call my wife again, I'm going to kill you."
But after Terry went to his calm happy place by sniffing his wife's baby wipes fresh asshole, he called back a few days later to apologize for the misunderstanding:
"I'm so sorry for calling you and speaking that way. I thought you were somebody that's been harassing my wife. Please forgive me. My wife told me that she was receiving obscene text from you and that she was being harassed. Therefore I responded with the protective nature that a husband has for his wife. Forgive me for the anger, but as you are watching over your girlfriend, I too am devoted to my love."
If you're going to get your throat cut up, it might as well be by the hand of Terry Howard. Yes, you would die a slow painful, blood-curdling death and the last face you'd ever see would be the smug crazy face of the dude from Glitter, but at least your crime scene would be as sparkling clean as a newborn baby's fresh out of the womb ass! Terry cannot strut away from a body covered with orifice goo of any kind. Terry would whip out his baby wipes attache (seen above) and clean your body the same way he expects all of his females to clean their caca holes. Your dead body would be so damn clean that even Terry would sit next to it at dinner.
Your family members would walk in on your murdered body and scream "AAAAAAAH!," but then they'd take a whiff of the air and calmly say, "But damn it smells precious in here!" Thanks to Terry!
Nothing comes between a HONGRAY granny and her morning bacon, not even 9 year old little kids!! The Smoking Gun reports that Marilee Ann Kolynych caught a case of the NOT THE ONE when her 9 year old grandson "ate too much bacon at breakfast" and had to open up an Ensure sponsored can of WHOOP ASS!!
According to the Clifton Heights Police Department, Kolynych chased the boy out in to the yard, tackled his ass to the ground and sat on him while spraying a water hose in his face. Bitch don't play. The boy finally broke loose of memaw's claws of death, ran across the street to a neighbor's house and called his mother.... WHO WAS IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT OF THE MEMAW'S HOUSE!!! Granny is free on bail awaiting a July 7th hearing.
You know, when I was kid my memaw would make me go "fetch a switch" from a tree so she could beat my ass with it. Deciding whether to get a thin branch or a thick branch was the torture. A thick branch is a total BEAT. DOWN. and a thin branch sliced through your ass like buttah... I think I would have rather had the hose!!!!
The gorgeous, sensitive and sensible Charlize Theron (NO sarcasm this time, don't pass out), the girl I would totally go ghey for, the object of my adoration and my avatar has said before that she would never get married until gays can. Me: CHARLIZE I AM SO ON BOARD, WAIT FOR ME BABY!!! Anyway, in September 2009, she said "I do have a problem with the fact that our government has not stepped up enough to make [marriage equality] federal...I really understand marriage and I respect marriage. I just feel that we should all have equal rights."
I have to say that in my experience, I think marriage is a huge stinking steaming pile of bullshit (jaded much?) but like Charlize, I totally support other people to make the biggest mistake of their lives no matter what their sexual orientation is. No, really, marriage CAN be a beautiful thing. I've seen it work and we all want to grow old with someone who loves us enough to smear Ben Gay where our bathing suit covers.
In a recent interview on CNN, which you can watch here on Towleroad, she reiterates her stance, adding that marriage is not important for her (SUHWOOOON AGAIN) but that she understands its importance to other people. She ends the interview by saying "We should all have equal rights. Love is such a divine thing, it's a gift, and who are we to say?"
It's a sensitive subject, but I'm with Charlize (I fucking wish). I mean, if two adults love each other enough to make that leap, and only fuck on each other till they die, and put up with each other's morning breaf and shitty moods for the rest of their lives, I think they should be able to. Marry me Charlize!! *licks monitor*
Note: Stolen from MK's Afternoon Crumbs. I swore off the comments section this week and couldn't just let this shit lie.