Engagements

Olivier Martinez almost always looks like he's internally wrestling with whether or not he should break some really bad news to you like the insurgents kidnapped your entire family or he just smoked your entire stash, so I don't think I could wake up to that face every morning, but Halle Berry can. The company who sold an engagement ring to Olivier Martinez tells People that Halle is about to become somebody's wife for the third time in her 45 years on this planet. This will be Olivier's first marriage.

A rep for jooree designer Gurhan opened up their fat talk hole to say that Olivier gave Halle a diamond and emerald engagement ring after being together for more than a year.

END WELL: This isn't going to. Halle's divorce from David Justice left her in such a serious state of the sads that she almost gassed herself to death in her own garage (what's even more sad is that she was going to take her dogs with her). Halle's second husband Eric Benet was allegedly a chronic peen passer and his friends say that she was so crazy that they gave her the nickname of Scary Berry. And I can still stank smell the shit that was thrown around during Halle's custody battle with Gabriel Aubry. So yeah, if you think the hot piece from Unfaithful looks bad now, wait until you see what he looks like when this relationship sucks all of the hotness out of him.

But there is something Olivier can do to stop this. Every time Halle's natural craziness starts to poke out during a fight, Olivier should make the face he's making in the picture above. Halle will have no choice but to put the crazy on pause to ask, "What? What? Do you smell carbon monoxide? Did I fart without my butt knowing it? Did the rebels break in through an upstairs window to kidnap us all? Did dumb ass Timmy fall down the well again? Tell me! Tell me please!"

All of you need to do what Aretha Franklin's 8th world wonder chichis are doing in that picture above by hitting the ground to pay tribute to her and Catfish's love. After years and years of nearly drowning in her endless sea of chichis by motorboating without an anchor, Aretha's "forever friend" William "Catfish" Wilkerson has finally slipped a ring on her skinny ass finger and asked to become her third husband. People has the details from the lips of Retha and her rep about the wedding of the year:

The iconic singer, 69, and Wilkerson are discussing tying the knot on Miami Beach, with an exclusive reception aboard a private yacht.

And for her dress?

"Ms. Franklin is considering Donna Karan, Valentino and the queen of wedding dresses, Vera Wang, to design her gown," says her rep.

Adds Franklin herself of the upcoming nuptials: "We're looking at June or July for our date and no, I'm not pregnant, LOL!"

Last year, millions of nipple slits made a frown when Aretha Franklin was hospitalized with some kind of "mysterious illness," so I'm going to turn off my bitch switch for a quick second and throw out a calorie-free congratulations to the soon to be Mrs. Catfish! Wait. That's why Retha's marrying his ass. Since she has to stay away from fried catfish to keep her new body, she figures if you can't beat 'em, take their name. Go on, Mrs. Catfish!

Because your Facebook feed isn't already filled with a bunch of sappy bitches slobbering over how their pieces went to Jared and slipped an engagement ring on their finger over the Christmas holiday, here's another one to keep your heaves going. No, this isn't a picture of Blanket Jackson getting the life sucked out of him by a Dr. Evil on roids. It's everyone's favorite bongo-playing stoner Matthew McConaughey kissing on the mother of his 2 chirruns, Camila Alves, after proposing to her on Christmas Day. Today, the definition of "precious" is the image of Matthew getting down on one knee, pulling out a shiny marijuana leaf ring and trying to put it on Camila's finger with those tiny T-Rex arms of his. I bet bitch couldn't reach and had to use a grabber. Matthew Twatted this afterward:

Just asked camila to marry me, #MerryChristmas
26 Dec

Matthew and Camile have a 3-year-old son named Levi and an almost 2-year-old named Vida, so some whores are saying throwing these two a "WHY BOTHER?!" side-eye. But just because they already made two baby friends together doesn't mean they no longer have the right to ruin each other's lives by getting married! So I say, congratulations, and I also say, DAMN FUCK THAT'S A BIG ASS HEAD. It's almost like a Kardashian goiter.

via UsWeekly

Jessica Biel (Tip: Read that boring ho's name in Sookeh from True Blood's voice to make it more exciting. Jessica Beeeeeehl!) and Justin Timberlake have been getting on and off of each over for the past 4 years and I figured it was only a matter of time before their relationship completely buried itself right next to the open grave reserved for their movie careers. But apparently Jessica and Justin have tortured each other for so long that they have decided they should torture each other all the way by getting married. Lainey Gossip points to this Tweet from a gallery owner in Jackson, Wyoming:

Word on the street is that Justin Timberlake proposed to Jessica Biel at the Amangani last night...we're picking out post-engagement presents for them just in case they come in! Trying to play it cool...

Jessica Biel seems like a vacuum hole that can suck the personality out of any room she enters and there are major parts of Justin Timberlake's personality that need to be sucked into a black hole to nothingness, so I hope they make each other miserable for centuries to come.

And I will be disappointed in Justin if he didn't propose to Jessica by making her open his dick in a box. You know a finger ring can easily fit around his peen without the help of Crisco. I will also be disappointed if Justin and Brit Brit don't have a double wedding with a cowboy pimp denim theme.

The ultimate act of romance will take place soon when Jason Trawick asks the judge in charge of Brit Brit's conservatorship case if they will grant him her hand in marriage as long as he promises to honor her, cherish her, obey her team of handlers and hide her meds in pizza rolls just like her daddy does. TMZ, UsWeekly and everybody else is reporting that Our Lady of Cheetos is about to become somebody's wife woman for the third time in her 30 years on Earth.

The hybrid of Sam Merlotte and a bodybuilding turtle dipped Brit Brit's sausage finger into a tub of Crisco and then slipped on an engagement ring at a private dinner for his 40th birthday last night. Daddy Spears has already taught Jason how his baby likes her Velveeta grits (that's the equivalent of giving his blessing) and now the judge just has to sign off on this shit. Brit Brit Twatted this out this morning:

OMG. Last night Jason surprised me with the one gift I've been waiting for. Can't wait to show you! SO SO SO excited!!!! Xxo

That Tweet really doesn't mean anything. Jason could've given her Slim Jim-flavored lip chap for all we know. But anyway, congrats to the future Mrs. Trainwreck. And also, congrats to the makers of the Cheetos wedding dress, the Frappuccino fountain, the Gummy Bears bouquet and also to Del Taco's fine dining catering department, because something tells me they're about to get some business.

Anne Hathaway just won't let those "Anne Hathaway is a big ole' lez" rumors be great, because she is now wearing a promise to get hitched ring given to her by a dude who looks like Alice the Goon in disguise as Ryan Gosling. Anne's rep confirms to People that her 30-year-old boyfriend of 3 years Adam Shulman got down on one knee, gazed deeply into her TEEFS (since there's really nowhere else for your eyes to go) and asked her to marry his ass. Her rep also said that Adam, who is an actor/jooree designer (HA!), helped to design her engagement ring (click here to see it if you care).

Anne and Adam started bumping teeth three years ago right after she broke up with the Italian fiancé who claimed to be the CEO of the Vatican in order to swindle investors out of millions of dollars. Anne pretty much only started dating Adam so he could hump the memory of Raffy from her brain, but then she fell in love or something. Anne said this about Adam a few months ago, "I am very much in love with him, [only] Adam totally ruined my plan. I was really actually looking forward to a little alone time, and then I fell in love like a fool!"

You know, Anne's bright white Chiclets are looking extra swole in that picture, which could only mean one thing: the ho is knocked up! (Just go with me on this, you'll thank me later). This means that Anne is in no condition to finishing shooting that Batman shit, which means her role will have to be completely reshot, which means Julie Newmar will have to be brought in since she knows the role. We've been saved from Anne's Catwoman! Our nightmare is over. We can thank Adam for that. Adam may look like a creeper whose eyes are so beady from squinting through a tiny hole in a public bathroom to watch ladies pee, but he's our savior!

Brenda Song is keeping her lips shut to public ears about whether or not her uterus is playing the lullaby version of the Mr. Ed theme song, but her now fiance Trace Cyrus is telling the world that the wedding march version of the Mr. Ed theme song will soon play in the Cyrus stables, because they're getting mare-eeeeeed! It's as Peter Shaffer rewrote Equus and gave it the happy ending it really deserves. The emo scarecrow let this out on Twitter today:

I am very excited to say, last week I asked my girlfriend Brenda Song to marry me and she said YES! We are both very excited to be engaged!

The thing about horse's being hung must be true, because why else would Brenda willingly marry into a fucked up family that is more horrifying than the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family. I mean, at Thanksgiving she'll have Billy Ray on one side smacking on Corn Pops while he has a staring contest with her nipples and on the other side she'll have Noah Cyrus singing a Peaches song in between gnawing on a neck bone. But Brenda obviously liked it enough to put a rein on it, so congrats to her! And I, for one, can't wait for Mai Song's dramatic A STAIN ON THIS HORSE monologue about this mess.

via UsWeekly

Elizabeth Hurley's marriage to that hot Indian billionaire completely died (like Hugh Grant's boner in Divine Brown's mouth after the police shined a light on his face) last year when the News of the World (RIP!) published pictures of her licking on a tongue belonging to Australian pricket (typo and it stays) player and kitty-faced Shane Warne. Shane was also married at the time, but just like Elizabeth, he said he and his wife had been separated for months. Elizabeth and Shane started face humping the fillers out of each other full-time and ten months later their asses are engaged to be married! Because that mess worked so well the first time. Elizabeth and Shane are now the overseas LeAnn and Eddie! Which is sort of fitting since if I kiss this bong again and squint my eyes, Shane looks like he was cut from the same piece of Falcor's taint as LeAnn.

The Daily Mail says that Shane slipped a sapphire and diamond ring (see below) on Elizabeth's finger at some restaurant in St. Andrews, Scotland last night after the Alfred Dunhill Championship. A source who witnessed Elizabeth and Shane getting pre-pre-divorced said this about the proposal:

"Shane proposed over dinner and it was fairly public, not a private affair.

It was a VIP crowd in there this evening. It was residents only, including Dunhill past players. He didn’t get down on one knee, but when it was announced the other guests in the restaurant stood up and applauded. Everyone there was absolutely delighted."

But the guests only applauded to hide the sound of the simultaneous queef they all let out over this news. And I'm sure that simultaneous queef lasted longer than Elizabeth's marriage to Shane will! No. I'm sure this one will stick. You know what they say (they don't say this). A marriage to a hot Indian billionaire never works, but a marriage to a dude that looks like a retired Thundercat who suffers from chronic menopause sweats will last forever!

As I blog from the front of Mah Boo Anderson Cooper's firehouse, waiting for him to prance out in a cloud of platinum glitter to propose to me using a ring he made with the locks of his diamond dust-covered pubes, let's all celebrate the engagement of Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka. You know EVERYBODY and their body waxer got engaged last night and now you can add NPH and DB to that list. They announced it on Twatter last night.

@Davidburtka David Burtka
@Team_Klaine4ver I've already purposed, he said yes! Thank god!

Davidburtka David Burtka
@Team_Klaine4ver he proposed to me as well. I said yes! Thank god!

@Davidburtka David Burtka
Neil and I have been wearing rings for years. We have been engaged for a while. It did not just happen.

I wish somebody would purposed to me. No, I don't know what that means, but I've got a $10 off coupon for the free clinic, zero standards and a no-no that's been through it all so I'm up for everything!

But seriously, this is not only good news for NPH and DB, but it's also good news for me. I can now follow in the footsteps of my gold digging heroes by marrying a senile old man for his money. I really feel like I haven't lived up to my full potential until I've looked a billionaire pruneface in his cataract lenses and said, "Your billions of dollars don't mean ANYTHING to me, but I'm allergic to ink and legal papers so I cannot sign that prenup." Now I just have to find a billionaire pruneface who will make my dreams come true. So if you know of a wealthy old bat who has shit eyesight (so he won't cringe when I pick and smell my eye boogers in the morning) and prefers the touch of a supple mound of bloat instead of a six-pack, send him my way! You get 10% of my divorce settlement as a finders fee!

And I really can't wait for NPH's wedding. My barren tear ducts may get moist when Vinnie Delpino walks him down the aisle to the Doogie Howser theme song.

via HuffPo

Above is a NSFWish voicemail from a citizen of the Magnited States of America who called the customer service line for Austin's Alamo Drafthouse Theater to bitch and whine about getting her ass put on the curb after she received two warnings for texting during the movie. Well, you know that saying "When life hands you a priceless and rambling voicemail from a possibly drunken ho, make a PSA out of it"? Alamo Drafthouse did just that and now they will play homegirl's red red whiiiiiine before every R-rated movie.

I would definitely not go to the movie's with this girl. But I would totally let her lift me for a keg stand while she shouts, "MSA! MSA! MSA!!"

(Thanks Leah & Christopher)