Here I was thinking that Jim Nabors announced his undying love for peen on a "SHAZAM! I'M GAY!" cover of People Magazine in the 1970s, but I guess I was wrong. I guess Gomer Pyle never publicly slid down the rainbow while proudly waving a rainbow flag, but he is now. Gomer Pyle (which sorts of sounds like the name of a sex act you'd get into at a massive gay orgy) has married the man he's been with for longer than some of us have been breathing air. Jim Nabors told Hawaii News Now (via Towleroad) that he married his partner of 38 years, Stan Cadwallader, on January 15th at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel in Seattle.
"I'm 82 and he's in his 60s and so we've been together for 38 years and I'm not ashamed of people knowing, it's just that it was such a personal thing, I didn't tell anybody. I'm very happy that I've had a partner of 38 years and I feel very blessed. And, what can I tell you, I'm just very happy.
"It's pretty obvious that we had no rights as a couple, yet when you've been together 38 years, I think something's got to happen there, you've got to solidify something. And at my age, it's probably the best thing to do."
Jim and Stan met in Honolulu in 1975 and they've been there ever since. I would say that this is Jim Nabors' second marriage, but apparently that rumor that he married Rock Hudson in the early 70s is a lie and he's denied it a million times.
Congratulations to Mr. and Mr. Gomer Pyle and congratulations to all the bitches at their wedding who shouted "Well, GAAAAWWWWW-LEEEEE" after the grooms kissed. I'm going to choose to believe that at the reception, Jim Nabors serenaded his new husband with his stunning rendition of "Take My Hand, Precious Lord" and I'm going to choose to believe that he changed the lyrics from "take my hand, precious lord" to "take my peen, precious lovah."
It was 66 years ago that David Bowie fell to Earth inside of a star, and to celebrate this special day he has given us all the greatest gift of all. No, he didn't announce that he's starring in a remake of The Parent Trap with his planet twin Tilda Swinton. Bowie has given us a new song. Bowie's new single is called "Where Are We Now?" and it should've been called "Where Are YOU Now?" because that's the one question whores have been asking about him for years. Call off the search and tear his face off the milk carton, because Bowie has been found. Thank God.
David Bowie's website announced that his new song can be downloaded on iTunes right this second and his first album in 10 years "The Next Day" comes out on March 12th (March 8th in Australia since they're always in the future). Here's a piece of what was written on the birthday card attached to Bowie's gift to us:
In recent years radio silence has been broken only by endless speculation, rumor and wishful thinking ....a new record...who would have ever thought it, who'd have ever dreamed it! After all David is the kind of artist who writes and performs what he wants when he wants...when he has something to say as opposed to something to sell. Today he definitely has something to say.
Produced by long term collaborator Tony Visconti, 'Where Are We Now?' was written by Bowie, and was recorded in New York. The single is accompanied by a haunting video directed by Tony Oursler which harks back to David's time in Berlin. He is seen looking in on footage of the auto repair shop beneath the apartment he lived in along with stark images of the city at the time and a lyric constantly raising the question Where Are We Now?
"The moment you know, you know you know" resonates from the new single's lyric. Now we all know...David Bowie has been in the recording studio...just when we least expected it!!
And here's his new song and video:
Who cares if those creepy conjoined teddy bear twins were made with Elf Yourself? I don't even care that the cover for David Bowie's new single is some MS Paint shit and that my dog could've done it with one paw while scratching at his anal glands with the other, I'm just happy that David Bowie is actually doing things. I'm also happy that in his triumphant return to music videos, David Bowie has included a starter butt plug. That's what's sitting on the table to the left, right? Yeah, I thought I recognized it. It's been a while.
Taylor Swift, Katie Holmes and Renee Zellweger are all shedding a single tear while fearing for the future of bearding, because they've lost another one. Matt Dallas, who was Kyle in Kyle XY, has publicly declared his undying love for peen on Twitter (via Towleroad) by announcing that he's engaged to a dude. So Matt Dallas shouted "I LOVE PEEN!" and then every dude with a peen who loves dudes who loves peen is like, "YAY! More options for me!" But then Matt Dallas breaks boners by saying he's not single and he's not an option. This is like if In-N-Out announced their new home delivery service and then in the next breath said that unfortunately, all delivery slots are filled forever! Sorry.
Matt Dallas coming out as gay is about as shocking and unpredictable as me announcing that I had a pot cookie and a cream soda for dinner last night, but he still did it. Matt opened the glass closet door and slipped out with this tweet about being engaged to singer/songwriter type Blue Hamilton.
The combination of Blue Hamilton sort of looking like Matt Dallas in the face and me having the Mondays in my eyes made me think to myself, "Matt Dallas is engaged to a Labrador? Congratulations, I guess, but the Labrador doesn't look really fucking excited about it."
You know you thought that too, don't lie.
(Pic via Tyler Shields)
Well, we actually made it through 2012 without being shot into space where Tommy Girl and John Travolta would cackle at us while zipping off to Xenu's home planet in their space pods (which look like this). We made it! Although, Kim Kardashian is knocked up with the Illuminati's golden child, so I'm sure the rapture will swallow all of us in 6 months when she gives birth to a swarm of locusts and four fishsticks-eating horsemen. But in the meantime, let's all toast to the beautiful things that 2012 gave us like Mama June's stack of Pringles chins and her Forklift Foot. 2013 is totally going to be a breakout year for Mama June's Forklift Foot!
And I'm going to spend my New Year's Eve rounding up all the roosters on the island (Seriously, Kauai is the island of roosters and not a second goes by when one isn't cock-a-doodle-doodling up my asshole. That sounded sexy, but it isn't.) and slapping Honey Boo Boo glasses over their eyes before getting them drunk on bottom shelf rum, so they'll be too hungover tomorrow to wake my ass up at 4:30 in the morning with their yodeling. That's what my ass is going to do.
Happy New Year, everyone!
Normally when I see bitches making out in public, my lonely, bitter ass side eyes the shit out of them and mumbles "get a room" into my cheap light beer. But somehow these pics of Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi hugging each other up on the beach in St. Barts aren't bothering me. They're even kind of...romantic and cute? Ugh, slap me.
After the "I hate your ass" pictures of Kim and Kanye and the MEH shots of Jennifer and Justin over the past couple of days, it's nice to see a couple looking like they actually have a damn to give about each other. Not you, Chris and Riri, sit your asses down. Look at them, lovingly holding hands and playing in the surf like a couple of kids. And now I'm off to barf my guts up from the sickening sweet shit I just wrote. I think the holiday spirit has wrecked my brains.
Wait. Gossip Cop (quoting the National Enquirer so you know it's FACT) says that because of Ellen's career, the couple is being driven apart. So, this is an obvious attempt by them to trick us all into believing that their love is twuuuuue and they're not slap fighting as soon as the cameras of off. Ah, suspicion and contempt. That feels better.
There was a huge campaign on Tumblr, and I think Facebook too, asking Christian Bale to visit the victims in the Aurora shooting dressed as fucking Batman! Out of all the things the victims need, seeing Batman in their hospital doorway, even if he is carrying a bouquet of carnations, is probably not one of them. Just a guess. So thankfully, when Christian Bale did an awesome thing today by visiting the victims, he left his Batman mask in the closet.
TheDenverChannel says Christian didn't want to turn this into a huge STUNT QUEEN situation, so he rode to the hospital in an ambulance to keep the media from finding out. Christian showed up to the hospital at around 2 this afternoon and spent around two and a half hours hanging out with several victims including Carey Rottman, who posted this picture with Christian on Facebook. Warner Bros. said that Christian went on his own and he wasn't there representing the studio.
Well, this was a completely amazing thing of Christian Bale to do and makes me feel all warm in the chest area, and I usually only get that feeling when my laptop overheats on my chest while I'm watching porn. I know some of us are fans of Christian's bitchy on-set meltdowns, so don't worry, I'm sure he'll be back to screaming his tonsil skin off at an assistant director by this time... Wait, what time is it? Oh yeah, he's probably back on the set and screaming "OH GOOOOOOOD FOR YOU" at an assistant director right now. A crazy with a heart, that Christian.
Just when you really start to fully believe that the world is a shitty place full of throbbing assholes that keep adding to the piles of shit comes a video that might temporarily restore your faith in humanity. A dashboard cam caught a little ole' memaw having a hard time crossing the street, because throbbing asshole drivers kept shifting into the DON'T GIVE A FUCK gear to speed past her. But then a suburban knight on a white horse camouflaged as an SUV stopped and helped the little old lady cross the street. How the hell did everyone not jump out of their cars and lay down on the pavement to offer up their bodies to this memaw savior?! He is a hero to all memaws should be award the Werther's Original Heart of Honor.
But you know, I'm so jaded that I kept waiting for him to snatch ole girl's pocketbook before getting into his SUV to drive away. The world did this to me!
Yesterday, the whole of the Internet got a boner after Matt Bomer said in so many words that us gay sluts actually have a chance with him (that's how I took it) and today the Matt Bomer of Australia (basically), Sharon from Kath & Kim, said on national television that she's full gayelle. Magda Szubanski, seen on the right as her Kath & Kim character and seen on the left as herself, has come out in the name of marriage equality. The chunk of lard jelly in my chest hasn't felt this much love for Magda since she refused to have the character she created be used in the pile of rotten spunk that was the Americanized Kath & Kim. Let's never speak of that shit show again, foxy morons.
This was what Magda said today on Ten's The Project (click here to see the video):
"It's not like I was running around hiding it, but there's a difference between living life openly and living life absolutely publicly. How do you communicate to someone what it feels like to be on the receiving end of prejudice? I was so nerve-wracked yesterday, I demolish a whole packet of Tim Tams.
I am absolutely not straight. I do not identify myself as bisexual either. I identify myself as gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay. If there's a tablet you could take to cure it, I wouldn't take it.
I love my work ... You almost feel like you have to choose. I know you are going to ask me if it would have been hard (to be gay and an actor), but it's only recently that things have changed. It's only in the last four years things like civil unions have been granted."
I was going to spend my Valentine's Day night by going into random restaurants to find the most in love couple in the place. Then I was going to push at one them before telling him that he left a case of herpes on my ass when we fucked last week. But instead, I'm going to eat a Russell Stover's (the chocolate, not a piece I met on Grindr) while watching my first season DVD of Kath & Kim. Happy Sharon Comes Out Day!
I was going to start this post by brain farting about all the fuckery that trickled on us this year, but the memory box in my head labeled 2011 has been erased by all of the breakfast wine, lunch wine, after lunch wine, dinner wine, before bedtime wine and during bedtime wine I've been guzzling in Italy this past week. The only thing I really remember right now from 2011 is the ethereal dandelion of my dreams, Duchess of Alba, dethroning that bland basic bitch Kate Middleton as the most beautiful bride of the year. And I also remember chewing on an entire glass bong after I found out that the IRS was auditing my ass. Oh, 2011, you punched me in the butt cunt and then you blew powdery beauty right in my face.
Whatever it is you do tonight, be safe about it. And by that I mean, don't give your last name to your one night trick and if you're going to get arrested, make sure the police drag you to a jail cell with WiFi. Because how can I start my day tomorrow without reading your emails where you curse me out for my tragic grammar and attach that picture of Prince Hot Ginge's hard scepter that never gets old?
I'm spending my night the way all damn tourists in Venice spend theirs by going to that St. Mark's Square shit. But I'm only going, because somebody told me that at midnight, you're supposed to kiss everybody around you. At least that's what they tell me and that's the story I'm going to tell after I get punched in the tongue for making mouth love to every hot Italian piece with luscious hair I see. (Seriously, almost every Italian dude has a luscious mane that I just want to floss my ass with.) On that note....
Happy New Year! Here's hoping that if the apocalypse eats all of us in 2012, it eats the Kardashians first so we know what it's like to live in a Kuntrashian-free world even for just one second. I'll DRANK (and burp) to that!
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!