Well Well Well
After a Redditor noticed that George W. Bush's head makes a cameo appearance during a beheading scene in season 1 of Games of Thrones, heads exploded off of necks and some people freaked out so hard that the producers and HBO had to be like, "Sorry, gurl." David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, GoT's creators, say they weren't trying to make some anti-Bush political statement and they just happened to buy a prosthetic Dubya head from the company they buy fake heads and limbs from. I'm going to tell GoT's creators the same thing I told my dog after he squatted a caca out right in front of a hot piece I was checking out on the street: "Bitch, you know you did that on purpose." Here's their apology via Deadline:
We use a lot of prosthetic body parts on the show: heads, arms, etc. We can’t afford to have these all made from scratch, especially in scenes where we need a lot of them, so we rent them in bulk. After the scene was already shot, someone pointed out that one of the heads looked like George W. Bush.
In the DVD commentary, we mentioned this, though we should not have. We meant no disrespect to the former President and apologize if anything we said or did suggested otherwise.
HBO also tried to soothe the throbbing b-holes of Dubya lovers by saying that they're going to remove Dubya's head from all future productions of the DVD. If they did this shit as a stunt, then it worked. Because everyone's going to be running to buy the DUBYA'S HEAD ON A STAKE EDITION.
And I'm still waiting for the producers to apologize for putting Brit Brit's old, ratty caca weave on that stake too.
Yeah, "Therouxiston" doesn't really work as a couple name. I know the whole celebwhore couple name thing is something that should've been buried deep in the Internet cemetery marked 2008, but I'm an old-fashioned blogger who likes to stick with traditions and shit. I've heard the names JenStin, AniRoux and JustiFer, but none of those have stuck with me. Maybe JustAnis or AnisTheroux? AnisTheroux almost sounds like "anus throw up," and Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux do remind me of butt discharge for some reason. AnisTheroux it is!
Jennifer and Justin strut all around Paris today, because nothing sells a movie and kills a break-up rumor like hand-holding on le ho stroll. Fire up the BREAKING NEWS siren, because Jennifer wore almost the same outfit two days in a row. When Jennifer and Justin landed at the airport yesterday, she wore BAGGY rolled-up jeans. And for her strut through Paris this morning, she wore TIGHTER rolled-up jeans. What does it all mean, besides the fact that she has shit taste in jeans? I'm sure in the next issue of Star Magazine, an expert will say that Jen changing jeans is a secret message to Brad Pitt.
I actually like the baggy jeans better, because from the waist down it makes her like the Cabbage Patch boy doll I had in preschool. And that shit is fitting.
You're like, "Bitch, please, we all know what's been in Lindsay Lohan's pink bag. That ain't no secret." But I'm talking about a different pink bag this time.
James, the driver behind the wheel of the semi-trailer truck that Lindsay Lohan plowed into on PCH yesterday, talked to TMZ and he says that the entire situation was about as shady as that bitch's forehead in the picture above. James says LiLo tried to bust out of there, her people tried to pay him off and they all got weird when he started to call 911. So James' natural instincts told him that shit was suspect as all hell and something in the milk was probably crack. Sounds like an old-fashioned, normal Lohan situation to me!
James said that right after the accident, LiLo's male assistant jumped out of the Porsche with a pink bag and filled it with some stuff before covering the top with clothes . LiLo and the assistant then got into an Escalade that was following them the entire time. TMZ thinks that the driver of the Escalade works for production on that Liz & Dick mess. When James walked to the Escalade to exchange info with LiLo, he was stopped by the driver who told him they could all go to the bank and get him some cash. James turned down that offer and called 911.
James didn't even know who the world's most famous freckled mess was and just wanted to call the police, but her assistant and the driver kept acting weird:
"Him and the guy took me across the street and told me this was some kind of famous person and they didn't want to be in the media. But I'd already called 911 because they were trying to get away from the scene. But they packed a bag and then the limousine driver told me, 'Don't mention the bag to the cops.'"
Does everybody in this ho's life have to act all shifty and shit? The cops aren't going to check that stupid pink bag. No need to be all secretive. The cops already know that it was filled with half of a Mexican pharmacy, a pair of back-up lips (aka two obese slugs spooning), a bag of sea jasper powder, replacement nose cartilage and a pile of diamonds LiLo snatched from Elizabeth Taylor's body after raiding her grave. What were the cops going to do if they found anything illegal in LiLo's bag? Arrest her and put her in jail? Hahahahahahahahahahaaaa...
What I mean by that is that somebody should've snatched that carpet sample off of his head, because it is dreadful. Anyway, for the first time since everybody learned about the terrifying adventures of John Travolta's man finger-eating whirlpool anus, he put on a brave wig and came out (not like that) to honor Shirley MacLaine last night. No, John wasn't presenting Shirley with the Sally's Beauty Supply Lifetime Achievement Award in Lace Front-Wearing. Shirley was the recipient of the AFI Life Achievement Award and John was there to honor her. I really don't know who's wig game is worse: Shirley or John's. Shirley's looks like it's slowly shifting off of her head and John's wig is laid like a sod square.
The likes of Meryl Streep, Dakota Fanning, Mena Suvari, Melanie Griffith and Jennifer Aniston thought to themselves, "That is such a realistic wax figure of a Vulcan Dracula" as John Travolta spit out nice words about Shirley. I appreciate that John is showing us what Eddie Munster would look like if he grew into his widow's peak, but damn. Bitch needs to pull out his payroll sheet and erase the name of the ho who keeps buying his wigs at Leonard Nimoy's yard sale.
And if you were about to announce the countdown for the inevitable "Angie's fame whoring leg vs. Aniston's fame whoring leg" battle, save your bref.
If you put your hand over Ellen Page, you'd sort of know what it would look like if you got to frisk ASkars. How Ellen Page kept herself from tickling ASkars' armpits with her hat's lips is beyond me. And yes, that grown man in the bottom right is totally Stefan-ing out of his mind, because he can't believe the Swedish essence of ASkar pits is blowing his way.
The oddest pairing since Kunty Karl and Choupette went to a Stanley Cup finals game at the Staples Center in L.A. yesterday and some are saying this means that Ellen is doing a sexy single bar gymnastics routine on ASkars' peen when the lights go down. Please. It's true that if you polled the planet's population, including inanimate objects, on whether or not they'd let ASkars stick the tip in, 99% would grab the butt lube and you ask where the line for that ride begins. When ASkars struts by a rock, the rock finds a way to grow a vagina so he can fuck it. Everybody wants to hump ASkars. But not Ellen Page. I mean, my common sense gene is preventing me from picturing that. They're just two beautiful lesbians who like to watch sports together. That's all.
They also did a movie together and I hope it went so well that they work together again in a movie version of the adventures of the Jolly Green Giant and Little Sprout. Because I want to see that.
Ryan Gosling's mom, Donna, got her teacher's degree from Brock University in St. Catherine's, Ontario yesterday and like the good son he is, he showed up to the graduation ceremony and brought the human dagger in every fangirl's heart: EVIL MENDES! An official from Brock University told TheSpec that they knew about 30 minutes beforehand that Ryan was coming. That gave officials just enough time to pass around frozen panties to the girls and gays so that their genitals wouldn't explode into an orgasm sauce geyser as soon as he strutted in. The official said Ryan refused to take pictures with fans and tried to keep all the focus on his mommy.
“He didn’t want his celebrity status to distract from his mom’s big day and all of the other grads’ big day. He was very gracious and extremely aware of his own ability to create a distraction.”
Even though Ryan pulled some "no pictures, no pictures please" shit, one grad managed to get a picture of him and she posted it to her Instagram. I love Ryan's "I see you, but I'm going to pretend not to see you" face as much as I love Eva throwing one of her signature "Keep hating, bitches, because I'll be making the same happy face when your fake boyfriend massages my toes with his tongue later tonight!" smiles. Just like I do every time a new picture of Eva and Ryan comes out, I trolled the Internet to see what the commenters had to say. Of course, there were plenty of people calling Eva a Cesar Romero-faced piece of trash who will hopefully get struck down with an allergy to Canadian peen skin. Oh, I love the rage Eva puts in hos. I kind of hope Ryan and Eva will elope, so that I can sit back with a tub of maple syrup popcorn and watch as his fangirls do The Exorcist head spin in unison.
And Lainey says that Ryan and Eva have been driving around Eastern Canada. Eva brags about how she's fucked in every US State, so I'm guessing she's trying to achieve the same thing in Canada by fucking in every province. Here comes that fangirl rage....
Autism whisperer Jenny McCarthy and Jim Carrey humped on each other for 5 years and during that time he formed a relationship with her now 10-year-old son Evan. Since they broke up over 2 years ago, Jim hasn't called or visited Evan at all. Evan regularly tells Jenny that he misses Jim. Instead of calling Jim up to tell him to wave at Evan on Skype or some shit, Jenny put him on blast while promoting her newest shit show Love in the Wild on Howard Stern. Jenny told Howard that she hasn't actually talked to Jim, but she has gone through various "channels" to try to talk to him. What I think she means by that is that she sat in front of the TV, channel surfed until she landed on a channel playing Ace Ventura and then used her Indigo powers to send him a message through the screen. That's what she means. This is what Jenny told Howard (via UsWeekly) about Jim walking out on her son:
"I've tried to ask [Jim] numerous times [to see Evan], because my son still asks. I haven't [reached out directly] . . . I think that sometimes people need to take a real break from each other. But I still love him. I think you can love people from a distance and respect him. But as a mother, you just hope when you have a relationship with someone, it has nothing to do with the child when you break up.
I tell [Evan] that someday you'll cross paths, meet again, [but] it's hard. He's been in therapy. It's a process, he's working on it."
Would it be nice for Jim to visit Evan every now and again? Sure. Was it a dick move for Jenny to paint Jim as a heartless, child-hating shit bag when she hasn't even tried to contact him herself? Definitely. But we don't know the whole story. It could be complicated. But instead of using her son to get to Jim Carrey, Jenny should do what most hos do when they want to see Jim Carrey. Bitch should just put an Emma Stone cardboard cutout in her backyard and wait until Jim shows up. He will!
UPDATE: Jim issued a statement to TMZ where he made it clear that he doesn't see Evan anymore and also made it clear that Jenny needs to learn a little thing called STFU. Jim said, "I will always do what I believe is in the best interest of Evan's well being. It's unfortunate that Evan's privacy is not being considered. I love Evan very much and will miss him always."
I think I'm the only one who didn't know that Steve Madden is an actual person and not just some random name a huge corporation came up with for their shoe line. I honestly didn't know this. But this is coming from a dumb stupid bitch who up until I was 17 or so really thought that when I put my ear to a conch shell, I can hear the waves crashing onto the beach where the shell was found. I wish I was telling you a joke. I really believed that the huge shell your grandma keeps on her coffee table is like a direct telephone connection to the ocean. Like sea magic at work! Who did I think I was? The little fucking mermaid? I wish I could blame it on drugs, but I can't. It's just my natural dumbness. So when I call a dumb bitch a "dumb bitch," I'm totally projecting.
So, Steve Madden the person has worked with the double, double toil and trouble twins for five years and most recently he worked with them to bring the Italian brand Superga to the states. At the opening party for Superga's first US store in NYC, Steve Madden told Fashionista that everything they say about working with trolls is true. They cackle behind your back, nip at your ankles when you disobey them and threaten to eat the hair on your first born's head if you look at them funny.
“They’re very demanding, they’re very tough. You know, just tough, tough. They want what they want. And so we worked hard to get that done. They are difficult. They are exacting. They are a pain in the ass. But they’re very good though. No. They’re awesome. They’re very grown up, very worldly. And I’m very immature. So we meet in the middle.”
Demanding and tough? Steve Madden is just being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. How hard could it be to work with those demon children? If they don't get what they want, they just put their heads together and force you to stare into their eyes as their irises project images of your gruesome demise if you don't do exactly what they say. That's not being tough at all!
It's been nearly a year since failed gold digger Crystal Harris left Hugh Hefner waiting in his Hoveround at the altar, sold her engagement ring for $90k and told Howard Stern that riding Hef's tequila worm dick made her pussy vomit and not in a good way. For the past few months, Crystal has been lying on an air mattress in her studio apartment waiting for the calls from Dial-A-Skank to come in (they never did) and while she waited she thought about the glory whory days when she'd pull a number out of the red ticket dispenser in Hef's chambers and patiently wait for her turn to sit on his face. Crystal misses the scent of Fixodent wafting off of her chocha and she wants to get back to that. So Crystal begged Hef to take her back and since he doesn't remember who the hell she is, he opened his front door to her! A source tells Radar that Hef is Crystal's Stevia Daddy (Hef's doctor told him to cut back on the sugar) again.
"Crystal begged Hef to let her come back. He surprisingly doesn't have any hard feelings against her, so he let her move back into the Mansion. Shera Berchard, Hef's #1 girlfriend, moved out as soon as Crystal moved back in. Hef and Crystal are really happy back together."
I know I've called Crystal a gold digger a million times before, but ho is more of a fame digger than a gold digger. You'd have to be the dimmest gold digger alive to get with Hef. Hef doesn't let his hos leave the mansion, gives them the worst allowance ever and probably notices when his ho steals one of his prized confederate coins to secretly pawn it off while they're out buying red velvet diaper covers for his Depends. It really is like living with your pepaw. CORRECTION: It's worse than living with your pepaw. At least your pepaw doesn't make you spoon feed him Viagra pudding before hopping up and down on his peen while reading the astrology section from an old copy of Reader's Digest. Crystal is obviously trying to get on another cover of Playboy or maybe she's just really into rubbing her coochie against Hef's stoma sores. Sucia bitch.
The audience sitting in the first few rows at the Billboard Music Awards last night witnessed a dramatic mess of a show when Whitney Houston's sister-in-law and former manager, Pat Houston, caused a scene by trying to get security to psychically remove Ray-J's ass from his seat. Ray-J was seated near the Houston family including Bobbi Kristina, and Pat wasn't having any of that. TMZ says that Pat believes Ray-J was a shit influence on Whitney and wanted him far, far away from the Houston family. Just like Ray-J'z boomerang dick when it gets caught on a cervix, he was not pulling out easily. Ray-J refused to move.
Just a quick minute before the Whitney Houston tribute started, Pat waved at security to move Ray-J. When Ray-J refused to move, Pat got a few uniformed officers involved and told them to use their arms to put Ray-J up out of his seat. Security and the officers told Pat that if they put their hands on Ray-J, it could explode into a huge scene and the cameras would catch all of it. So Pat let it go and Ray-J stayed in his seat.
I haven't heard much about Pat Houston, but from what I have heard it sounds like bitch could out-leach Ray-J any day of the week. I don't like Ray-J, because his piss stream christened the S.S. Kardashian Fame Whore Ship and he always wears sunglasses at night like he's someone (see him with Sophie Monk below), but trying to evict him from his seat is just stupid. It's the Billboard Music Awards! It's not that serious. The only reason to pull Ray-J off his seat is if seat filler extraordinaire Phoebe Price needed one.
Pat was probably just worried that Ray-J's dumb ass would get more camera time than her. But don't worry, Pat made sure that wasn't going to happen by escorting Bobbi Kristina up on stage to accept her mother's award.
If anybody should be up there with Bobbi Kristina, it should be Cousin Dionne! But maybe Cousin Dionne was outside, slathering Vaseline on her face while waiting to jump Ray-J.