Splits

When I first read that Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore were quitting each other romantically, my first response was to declare for myself that forever true love is a falsity (file that under: words I learned while watching Judge Judy) and we should all spend what's ever left of our lives fucking strangers, eating pie, fucking strangers and banging our heads against the cave wall until the grim reaper chihuahua shows up to lead us to the river that takes us to the afterworld. But you know, Kim and Thursty were married for 27 years. That's two decades and a second grader! That's two and a half Biebers! Many people could not wake up next to the same face for 27 years. Hell, some people can't even wake up with their own faces on, which is why they get totally different faces glued onto their front heads. (I'm not naming any names. Kim Kardashian.)

Kim and Thursty simply want a different flavor of genitals on their tongue. That's all. They passed this break-up statement to E! News and everybody else last night:

"Musicians Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore, married in 1984, are announcing they have separated. Sonic Youth, with both Kim and Thurston involved, will proceed with its South American tour dates in November. Plans beyond that tour are uncertain. The couple has requested respect for their personal privacy and does not wish to issue further comment."

So, that shit also makes it sound like they might be fucking done professionally too. Oh well, 30 years is a long ass time for a band to be together and that is a great accomplishment. Yes, that is my new line for everything. Me to the mirror this afternoon after I eat a Big Mac and 6-piece McNugget: "Oh, Michael don't be so hard on yourself. For the past 6 days, you didn't give in to the wishes of the devil by eating McDonald's. That is a great accomplishment for you. You had a good run.....and now you have the runs."

First Katie Price and that Argentinian piece who made my gaydar pucker end their beautiful love affair via a translator (because she doesn't speak Spanish and he isn't completely fluent in Whore yet), and now UsWeekly is telling us that Blake NotSoLively and Leonardo DiCatchAHo's short-term contract is up and they aren't even trying to renegotiate. Pop your umbrellas, because something tells me that suicidal cherubs will be falling out of the sky today.

Reps for both Blake and Leonardo confirm to UsWeekly that after 5 months of contract-enforced dates in Monte Carlo, Venice, and NYC, they have broken up, but are still friends.

As much as this news saddens me, because it makes me long for the days when celebrity couples showed they were really committed to each other by signing long-term contracts (see: Reese and Jake), this shit was bound to happen.

Leo just can't give his heart to a piece unless she gives 10% of the earnings she made from posing in Sports Illustrated to her agent at IMG. And Blake is just not meant to happen even though Hollywood keeps shoving her down our eye holes the same way almost every model is shoving her portfolio into Leo's mail slot right about now. Blake is the Pippa Middleton of American actresses. She is never EVER going to happen. (Cut to the no-so-distance future when Blake is thanking her husband Ryan Gosling as she accepts her Best Actress Oscar while I get my words eatin-ready by sprinkling hot sauce on them.)

UsWeekly said last month that Ryan Reynolds rebounded off of ScarJo's chichis and dove straight onto Charlize Theron's crotch. There was never really anything proof of this. No staged pictures of them trying to pull each other's swim chonies off at the beach. No "leaked" stills from their blurry fuck tape. None of that. And now it's completely over, so says UsWeekly. They say that Charlize and Ryan's time together lasted about as long as a blonde riding on Hef's grave worm dick. A source says that Ryan quit that shit, because Charlize wants to start a family and he isn't ready to dirty his muscle ab biscuits with baby barf. The source put it like this:

"He only wanted something casual, but she's in a rush to settle down, have kids and start a family since she's getting older.

[Charlize] didn't take it very well when he broke it off. She knows deep down that it wouldn't have worked, but she is pretty bummed out about it all."

That's nice and everything, but what about us?! What about the people with the sex lives of a garbage disposal apple who were patiently waiting for fap material in the form of a picture of Charlize and Ryan simultaneously licking on each other's nipples under an outdoor shower? They couldn't give us that as a parting gift? Selfish bitches. And Charlize considers herself a humanitarian? More like an inhumaneitarian.

That being said, Charlize is smooth. Getting tired of fucking on a recently divorced piece who keeps doing ab crunches while you ride on top? Just hit him with the "I want kids" talk and he won't even waste time grabbing his Flex Belt while he runs out the door.

The bad news is that Karen Elson and Jack White are biting off each other's wedding bands after 6 years of marriage, but the good news is that there will be an open bar at their divorce party! Those damn hipsters really know how to turn an AWW into a YES!

Karen and Jack were married in Brazil on June 1, 2005 and decided that their time sleeping nipple to nipple has come to an end. They issued this joint statement to People:

"We remain dear and trusted friends and co-parents to our wonderful children Scarlett and Henry Lee. We feel so fortunate for the time we have shared and the time we will continue to spend both separately and together watching our children grow."

The invitation to their anniversary/divorce party reads that the party is to re-affirm their friendship.

Yes, as a bitter cunt queen monster who feeds off of the scandalous lives of others, I'm a little disappointed that Karen and Jack aren't throwing daggers of revenge at each other in the streets. But I guess it's best to end a relationship the same way you start it: absolutely fucking tanked.

Happy divorce to Karen and Jack!

In news that even Alison the Slycic could have predicted, Taylor Armstrong of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and her skeezer slimehole of a husband Russell have quietly tiptoed away from their marriage. Taylor has said that her 7-year-old marriage to Russell has become nothing but a business arrangement and he always has a tortured look on his face like he's a stupid argument away from giving up on life. (No, I don't mean suicide, silly! I mean that he'll only get around on a Hoveround, won't ever change his underwear, will only survive on items found on a drive-thru menu and won't bathe unless an order from the health department forces him to do so. Like half of America!)

Most of Taylor and Russell's problems come from the fact they've got Aston Martin tastes on a Yugo GV budget. Their frivolous spending habits have left their finances as empty as a plastic surgeon's entire supply of Juvederm when Taylor comes to visit. A source says that Taylor has moved out and is so upset that she's lost 15 pounds.

How can Taylor lose 15 pounds when bitch doesn't even weigh 15 pounds! Poor ho is probably nothing but yallaw weave, bones and lips now. Like the bottom of a box of KFC after Jessica Simpson ravages through it.

This is for the best, though. Taylor is a crazy gold digger who sucks at gold digging, but I still don't know how she slept next to Russell's creepy ass for that long. Russell probably sleeps with both eyes open and slurps on canned anchovies in the middle of the night as a snack. He's always been like a skinny Penguin to me. I never blamed Taylor for plumping up her mouth to monkey anus proportions, because she was probably hoping if she keeps injecting, her top lip will block her view of Russell's face one day.

Right before I fell into a catatonic half-dream state last night, the anchor on whatever local news I had on was sad to announce that after 25 years of marriage Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver have separated. And all I kept thinking about was how many times will I hear some news bitch say "It's hasta la vista for Ahnold and Maria" throughout the day? (Answer: zero so far, thank the fuck). And then I thought about how I really had to pee and how I wish I could just go over the side and rely on my dog to clean it up like I do for him. I guess I could do that, but I'm saving that move for when I'm old and really don't give a fuck. But enough about lazy peeing!

Maria finally got to the choppah and fled her martial home in Brentwood, CA. Maria moved out weeks ago, and the two only released a statement because The L.A. Times started to raise a few questions about their relationship. Here's the statement. Take out a red pen and add in your own puns and references (examples: The Divorcenator, "He won't be back!," etc...)

"This has been a time of great personal and professional transition for each of us. After a great deal of thought, reflection, discussion and prayer, we came to this decision together. At this time, we are living apart while we work on the future of our relationship.

We are continuing to parent our four children together. They are the light and the center of both of our lives. We consider this a private matter and neither we nor any of our friends or family will have further comment. We ask for compassion and respect from the media and the public."

"Nor any of our friends or family will have further comment"?! Say that shit to the 20-year-old intern who is brokering a deal with Radar Online to tell them about how Arnold texted her several pictures of his Austrian crotchwurst before she gave him a handjob underneath the desk during a conference call with Barbara Boxer. Well, the only good that can come from this mess is that we might get updated pictures of (NSFW) Arnold's peen.

There comes a time in every baby's life when Madonna slips bus fare into his Pull-Ups, packs him a warm bottle for the road and pinches his cheeks while goo-goo-ga-ga-ing out the lyrics to The Power of Goodbye. And that moment has come and went for Baby Brahim. The Daily Mail says that after 9 months together, Madge has sent hip-hop dancer Brahim Zaibat back to his native playpen. It wasn't their 28 year age difference that did it. It was their constant fights about their different spiritual beliefs. Baby Brahim follows the Muslim way and Madge is strictly on the red string, so it was never going to work.

A friend of Brahim's says that he's back in France and isn't shedding any tears over his split from Madge, "Brahim’s family had told him they did not want him going to Kabbalah meetings and wanted him to stick to his Muslim beliefs, which caused some rows. Things started to turn sour and they were hardly seeing each other. Brahim has been home and he’s a single guy. He’s no longer an item with Madonna. He’s very happy. There’s nothing more to say."

So as Madge leaves a trail of animal crackers from a South American nursery to the front of her cauldron to nab another baby, Baby Brahim is pawing at the place on his peen where his foreskin was before she ripped it off with her bare claws like she did with Guy's. But good fucking riddance to Brahim! I'm sure he was slowly creeping up to the age where he started to learn how to talk back and who wants to be around that? Just like I said there comes a time in every baby's life where Madge dumps them, there also comes in a time in every slut's life where they want to stop talking and get on a hot piece! Or in Madge's case, only talk about herself to a mute hot piece before getting on said hot piece.

That cracking sound you heard was from a dozen of Jennifer Love Hewitt's friends breaking their eye bones (YES, we have eye bones) from rolling so hard after seeing that she has called them after a year of silence. Yes, Jennifer Love Hewitt is forever that friend who isn't even trying to have contact with you while she's got a man but will stick to you like sperm on a Duggar ovary when she doesn't. Well, JLove's friends will have to pry her off with whatever you use to pry size 2 clingers off of you, because she's single again. The basic cable Jennifer Aniston has let it be known to UsWeekly that she has quit it with her boyfriend of a year Alex Beh.

This is the same Alex Beh who JLove said brought her flowers every day. It's also the same Alex Beh who knew that JLove already had three Tiffany engagement rings picked out just in case he wanted to propose. And now he's the Alex Beh who's the latest member of The Exes of Jennifer Love Hewitt Club that meets once a week in the basement of a church and bowls together as a team every Sunday afternoon.

We can all sit here and type that JLove needs to put the STOP in desperate, but this is just her way. She gets a man, drools nauseating love hearts all over him, proclaims to the world that he's better than nipple cream and when the relationship ends she uses her tears to stick rhinestones onto her vagina before she finds another man. Barf, rinse, repeat, etc...

Ho is probably uttering out an "I love you" right now to the valet at the vajazzle salon.

As Tina Knowles nearly shakes her wig off out of fear that she'll see security walking down the hallway with empty cardboard boxes in their hands, Beyonce has announced that she has scratched the "Beyonce's manager" part off of her daddy's business card and shooed him away. Matthew Knowles services as Beyonce's manager are no longer needed.

Daddy Knowles has been Beyonce's manager since Destiny birthed out four yodeling wigs a long time ago! Matthew is the one who watered them with the sweat falling off his forehead from working the ho stroll and watched them grow into international superstars!!! Mathew is also the one who drove disobedient DC members into the middle of nowhere and pushed them out of the car with only a cold sack lunch in their hands when they tried to outshine Beyonce. And now, he's out. AP brings the news that will singe every weave in Texas:

Beyonce's publicist, Yvette Noel-Schure, told The Associated Press in a statement Monday that the Grammy-winning singer and her father have parted ways "on a business level."

Knowles has managed his daughter since she debuted as a teen in the multiplatinum-selling group Destiny's Child in the late 1990s and throughout her superstar career as a solo artist.

Beyonce says in the statement that she is grateful for the role her father has had in her career. She adds that "he is my father for life and I love my dad dearly."

Solange's full belly cackles will be busting the floor boards tonight! That's until the basement door opens and she sees Matthew Knowles shuffling down the stairs with his head in his hands. The insulation in the basement is bad enough, and now she has to listen to Matthew muttering "fuckmylife" to himself all day and night.

And Papa Joe better log in to make sure his password is still good, because firing your daddy could be in the air.

If you're a gayelle who feels a special kind of tingle when your fuck partner growls like a pit bull gnawing on a bone while going down on you and love it when she shoots pussy balls at your parts using the slingshot from her old talk show, then pinch your nips because it's your lucky day! Page Six reports that Rosie O'Donnell and her girlfriend Tracy Kachtick- Anders have stomped their relationship into a fine powder and fed it to the dandruff mutant monsters that live in Donald Trump's hair. Basically, they broke up.

Tracy, who runs a nonprofit that recruits foster and adoptive homes within the LGBT community, moved her six kids to Florida to be with Rosie's army of four children. A source didn't give a reason as to why the love died like my nerves whenever Elisabeth Hasselcrack talks for more than 3 seconds on The View. But the source did say that Tracy has stayed in Florida and moved to a nearby house, because her kids and Rosie's kids have become close. Rosie's rep didn't address the split but let it be known that Tracy and Rosie were never officially the Lezzie Bunch:

"Rosie and Tracy never officially lived under one roof. They have lived near one another for quite some time, and their families still socialize and they see each other frequently."

I'm not going to comment that Rosie is probably difficult as fuck to live with because she nibbles on your ear lobe one minute and then barks into your ear hole the next when you breathe the wrong way or something. Instead I'm going to blame this split on the most obvious thing....CROCS! CROCS may feel like a warm smile for your feet to some people, but it's made of the labia from Satan's minions and it devours love whenever it gets a chance! And Rosie's relationship ending is a prime example of that shit. And don't get me started on CROCS dildos. Not today.