The "Who Cares?" News
Lady Caca originally wrote "Telephone" for Our Lady of Cheetos, but she passed on it because her camp decided it would be weird for her to be singing about telephones when she can't even use one without getting written permission from her Daddy Spears first. Good move. But before Brit Brit call blocked "Telephone", she recorded a demo. Apparently, someone bought the demo for $750 from iLeaks. There's a little debate as to whether this real.
Even T-Pain is making the sign of the cross at this auto-tuned mess, so it could really be anyone. It could be Brit Brit, R2D2, a robot dog meowing into a fan, Lady Caca's peen while suffering from laryngitis or the dude on my computer who tells me when a file is "finished downloading." Probably the latter.
But the real story here is who in the hell paid $750 for THIS?! They could have bought Brit a priest to exorcise the beast on top of her head, a custom made Cheeto bra or a day supply of Frapps. Although, I should really go sit in the corner with the bitch who bought this, because I'm currently looking at a pair of autographed lucite heels from Shauna Sand that I got on eBay for the price of a round of cocktails. But in my defense, I had to buy those exquisite lucite heels since it's part of my religion.
All eyes (not really) have been on Kate Hudson's chest area ever since the rumor went around that she got stuffed with tiny titty sacks the size of Heidi Montag's nipple implants (you know that bitch got nipple implants too). Lately, Kate has been hiding her freshmen chichis, but she brought them out to play last night SANS bra.
Kate was as flat as Jon Grosselin's crotch before, but I'm still not convinced that she got them plumped. Maybe her chest is swelling, because they are allergic to her douchebag poses. That could be it.
But you know what I am convinced of? I'm convinced that I need a hobby, because I've been staring at Kate Hudson's chichis for 10 minutes straight. It's probably because they look like two dwarf gerbils masturbating next to each other. Can't you see their tiny penises? Yes, I need a hobby.
While I go and find one, look at these pictures of Kate at some Chopard event in NYC last night with Fishsticks Paltrow who looks like a lace butt tampon.
Shayne Lamas, the winner of The Bachelor 12 and The Empress of Lucite's arch rival, got married in Las Vegas last night to a dude she barely met the night before. TMZ says that Shayne kicked the already dead horse known as marriage with Nik Richie, the owner of TheDirty.com.
Nik sort of confirmed this mess by Tweeting: "Married".
The only way I would approve of this disaster is if Shayne wore the stunning craft project ensemble (made out of discarded costumes from a community theater's production of Rocky Horror Picture Show) in the picture above. But Shayne didn't wear that. She wore a sheet from a nearby Motel 6 instead. Click here to see the picture of Shayne and her soon-to-be ex-husband on their wedding night. You might want to eat a packet of Sobrietol before click over, because that picture gave me an instant hangover.
Contrary to popular belief, Ice-T and Aimee Mann exist on the same planet, and they had a minor exchange of fightin' words yesterday after she insulted the acting skills of CoCo's main camel toe manicurist on Twitter.
Aimee shanked Ice-T first, and he returned the shank by telling her to go eat a bowl of hot dicks. Let me raise my hand so that I can ask Ice-T where ones goes to successfully order a bowl of hot dicks. I've tried hundreds of restaurants in several cities, and so far no dice (or should I say, no dick).
After Ice-T fought back, Aimee quickly apologized in a series of Tweets:
Oh NOOOO!! Someone just told me that Ice T responded to my tweet about him!! THIS CAN'T BE GOOD!!!
I am not going to read it. I DO NOT WANT HIM MAD AT ME!!
Plus, I do not like to hurt people's feelings. I forget that twitter is not just me and four other dorky friends, ragging on TV stars.
He's out there doing his job. He doesn't need any heckling from the peanut gallery. So, I am sorry, Mr. T! You get out there and DO IT!
Ice-T accepted Aimee's apology and the Twitter world was able to spin again.
It's a good thing this shit didn't escalate, because Ice-T would've had no choice but to sic Coco's hongray camel toe on Aimee. That would've been a disaster. If something ever happened to Aimee or Coco's camel toe, we would all have to get out of our seats, rip off our hats and scream in the middle of Carnegie Hall. We'd ruin the damn symphony for everyone!!
Lindsay Lohan's father Michael and Kate Major, Star Magazine reporter turned girlfriend of Jon Gosselin, have announced that they are engaged to be married. Cue the cricket farts.
50-year-old Michael tells People that they spent the Easter holiday with Kate's family so that he could get her father's approval. 27-year-old Kate cleared the bull feces out of her mouth and then said, "I'm very traditional, so I wanted him to talk to my father. Michael went down with me to Florida for Easter, to meet my father to ask for his permission, and my father gave his blessing. I'm ecstatic. I'm very happy. Michael and I have known each other for four years, and it's meant to be."
Michael added, "I'm ecstatic. I've never met anyone who's been there for me like Kate. She's always been there for me. The one thing about Kate is that she doesn't come with baggage."
Doesn't it make your sphincter itch when two famewhores find love with each other? I'm sure they will share their pure love with the country in a wedding that will be televised on the Fox Reality Channel on a Monday at 3am.
But seriously, Kate's father must not only hate her, but he also must hate himself. Kate, who has the face of a Bulldog puppy with downs, not only dated Jon Grosselin, but now she's MARRYING Michael Lohan?! What went wrong?! Kate probably got into her mother's bathroom cabinet when she was a child and drank an entire bottle of Summer's Eve. She hasn't been the same since.
The Real Housewives of Atlanta's resident low-budget bitch Kim Zolciak previously denied that she was bumping merkins with DJ Tracy Young. Kim has now decided to come clean and admit that she loves the cooch as much as she loves the cock. Kim held up her "Will Eat Vag 4 Publicity" cardboard sign and DJ Tracy Young came running. Kim queefs it all out to Life & Style:
L&S: Was there chemistry the first time you and Tracy met?
Kim: Well, we were both going through heartbreak at the time. I had split up with Big Poppa, and she had just ended a relationship she had been in for three years. The first night we met, we just connected on a different level. We ended up talking for two hours. After that, we started working in the studio together, remixing “Tardy for the Party.” We gradually became closer.
L&S: Can you pinpoint the moment when things became romantic?
Kim: There were sparks, but [physically] it was a gradual situation. Tracy made the first move. Our first kiss was passionate and exciting.
L&S: Were you ever tempted to deny your relationship with Tracy?
Kim: No. I’ve never denied anything. I don’t lie. I’m not embarrassed by anything I’ve ever done in my life. But I wasn’t ready to discuss it when the story broke. I hadn’t even had the chance to talk to my family about it. It was so unfair.
L&S: Do you feel you’re giving a voice to other bisexual parents?
Kim: I’m among the millions of parents who have been in a gay or lesbian relationship. It hasn’t been an easy road lately, but I feel there are no mistakes in my life. Everything happens for a reason. To have the opportunity to speak for myself and to have people understand what I’m going through is really special. I myself was confused and scared at first. Being able to speak from my heart and get this all out, it’s a huge relief for me.
If this bitch's wig had eyes it would've already broken the Guinness World Record for the longest continuous eye roll. I mean, what in the hell is she going on about? Just slap her with a million of Dwight's "How Dreadfuls."
We all know that the two Ps Kim cares most about aren't "peen" and "poon." They are "publicity" and "paper." If humping on a piece of lasagna got her a cover of Life & Style, bitch would declare that she's a carb-sexual. No offense to Garfield.
A Super 8 motel room somewhere might soon be filled mountains of baby diarrhea and used black market collagen syringes, because OctoMom is in danger of being kicked out of her La Habra, CA home. Amer Haddadin, the man who owns the house, claims that OctoMom's family is behind on the payments and owes him nearly $450,000.
Amer tells KABC-TV that when OctoCrazy cried about needing a home for her 10 million hongray children, he stepped up and offered to sell them his home. Amer agreed to carry the $450,000 loan for one full year or until OctoCrazy's family could come up with enough money for the down payment. Octo also agreed to pay Amer $4,139 a month for the first year. Amer says she has been late on her payments several times.
Amer has started foreclosure proceedings and says he has no choice but to kick Octo out on her fat lips. Amer added, "I was the kids' savior. What they are doing is not right, and I am going to take them to court. They are not cooperating with me."
Not only is this bad news for Octo's child army, but it's also bad news for all of us. Octo refuses to get a full-time job, so expect her to pose naked in a spread for Stretch Mark Fetish Magazine and star in a Vh1 reality show called Uterus of Love.
P.S. - As far as I know there's no such thing as Stretch Mark Fetish Magazine. But if it exists, please don't tell me the truth. Not today.
Page Six brings us this story about how Chynna Phillips filed for divorce from Billy Baldwin on Friday, but withdrew the documents yesterday after she had a change of heart. This just your regular "wife files for divorce, talks to her business manager, withdraws divorce" story. So since all I've got is time, I'm going to try to tell it using the title of every single Wilson Phillips song (covers not included) from their first two albums. Yes, I own all their albums. Yes, I am officially your mother, so send me a card (E-Cards don't count) on Mother's Day or I'll go into your old room to weep into your baby blanket.
This post isn't going to make any sense, but my posts never do so you're probably already used to that. Here we go!!!
Chynna Phillips checked into rehab for anxiety early last week, because IT'S ONLY LIFE. Five days later, Chynna shuffled up to the receptionist at rehab and said, "RELEASE ME." Once Chynna finished signing her exit papers, she turned to the receptionist, bowed and proclaimed, "GOODBYE CARMEN, I'm all FUELED FOR HOUSTON." Technically, Chynna was going back to Santa Barbara, but she's been a little spastic lately so she sometimes has no idea what she's saying.
When she got home, Chynna called her husband Billy and asked him, "WHERE ARE YOU?" Billy told Chynna that he's in NYC filming Gossip Girl. Chynna was feeling a little ALONE, so she asked Billy if he would come ALL THE WAY FROM NEW YORK to see her. Billy told Chynna that he couldn't, but to HOLD ON for one more day because he'd be with her soon.
After Chynna hung up with her husband, she felt like she didn't have A REASON TO BELIEVE their love would make it anymore. So Chynna called her lawyer to file for divorce. Chynna had to call him OVER AND OVER again, because the line was busy for some reason. When Chynna finally got through, she told her lawyer that she needed to divorce Billy. Chynna cried to her lawyer that she's only FLESH AND BLOOD and it was time to GIVE IT UP. Chynna's lawyer responded by saying, "I HEAR YOU." And with that, Chynna's lawyer submitted the divorce papers to be filed in a Santa Barbara court.
Billy immediately Skyped Chynna when he found out what she just did. They argued for a few minutes and Billy begged Chynna, "Please don't RELEASE ME." Chynna couldn't take it anymore and logged off after saying, "YOU WON'T SEE ME CRY, Billy!"
Chynna ran off to bawl into her bed sheets. When she wiped her eyes on the pillow case, she looked up and stared at a beautiful picture of Billy on their wedding day. Chynna realized she was just being IMPULSIVE and told herself, "Chynna, YOU'RE IN LOVE. That's the way it should be." So with that, Chynna grabbed her coat and got into her car to drive to the court house. But there was a tiny problem. Chynna's car was out of gas.
Instead of wasting time calling AAA, she put on her Easy Spirits and started to run to court. When a guy on a bike noticed she was in a hurry, he told her to hop on and he'd give her a ride. Chynna was so excited to get to the court house that she kept pulling on her savior's jacket too hard. He kept having to shout at her, "DON'T TAKE ME DOWN or you'll go down too!" Once they got to the court house, Chynna hugged her savior and said, "OOH YOU'RE GOLDEN!" Dude rolled his eyes at her, because he was annoyed that she kept pulling at his jacket like an idiot.
Just as a court clerk was about to file Chynna's divorce papers, she yelled at him to stop. The clerk turned around, gave Chynna the sex eye and puckered his lips at her. The court clerk had EYES LIKE TWINS. Skeezy twins, that is. Chynna couldn't believe the court clerk was actually hitting on her at a time like this! Chynna demanded that he hand over the papers, but he refused to do so unless she gave him a little kiss on his penis first.
Chynna told him she's following Lady GaGa's advice and only having sex with people she loves. Namely, her husband. The court clerk whispered in Chynna's ear, "THIS DOESN'T HAVE TO BE LOVE, sweetheart" And just when he was about to force a kiss on her, a sassy judge saw what was going down and put a stop to it. The judge snatched the papers out of the clerk's hand, handed them over to Chynna and then fired the perv on the stop.
Once Chynna had the divorce papers in her hands, she dropped to her knees, ripped them into a million pieces and shouted into the heavens, " THE DREAM IS STILL ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!"
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go wash the patheticness from my finger tips (SPOILER ALERT: It's not going to come out).
This is just a quick update regarding the case of Tila Tequila's baby daddy. I know the mention of Tila Tequila's name makes your brain hurt, but this will be fast. Just squeeze my hand. I'll give you a lollipop afterwards.
Yesterday, Tila Tequila said the father of her unborn publicity stunt is The Game. The Game immediately went over to TMZ and denied this. The Game said he wouldn't touch her with 50 Cent's pole. Tila Tequila responded by barfing her homegrown brand of crazy all over Twitter. #straitjacket
Alex Reid, the dick tucking, cage fighting mongoloid boyfriend of Katie Price, beat out Dane Bowers and Vinnie Jones to win the final "Celebrity" Big Brother. Alex (or "Roxanne" if you like to pucker up to a peen wearing lipstick) won 65% of the public vote. In possibly related news, the entire water supply in the UK was tainted with MDMA minutes before the CBB voting began.
Soon after Alex ran back into the shit-stained arms of Katie Price, she declared, "He's the love of my life and he knows that." YES KATIE, we all know that! You only proclaim it on the cover of OK! Magazine every other week, you dumb bitch! Although, Alex might not know since there's a good chance he can't read. Hopefully, he subscribes to the audio version of OK!.
And I'm sure Harvey Price is thrilled that Celebrity Big Brother is over, because now he has his favorite punching bag back. All is well in the world.
Here's some pictures from last night! In order: Roxy Fart, Vinnie Jones, Stephanie Beacham, Sisqo (who looks like the stoop sale version of an Old Navy commercial), and Dane Bowers.