So…rapist bitch Bill Cosby gets out of jail, even after all the proof of him drugging and raping many women over the years. But Britney Spears, who wants her life back, remains enslaved to her pimp dad aka still under conservatorship, even when she showed proof just a week ago that her dad abused her and swindled her money.
It was relieving to hear the actual Britney and not some PR person masking as her for once. But, wow. She spilled a lot. The backbreaking work schedule forced upon her, the lithium thing, the forced IUD?!?! How could you not get sad and angry over all this? Even if you’re not a fan of her music or think she’s overrated (I’ll spare the side-eyes for now), she is still a human being that doesn’t deserve that shit at all.
My sympathy and support to Brit-Brit is boundless, and I hope she finally gets her way and lives the life she wants. Is that hard to ask?
Also, I see you Timberfake and Lamar Odom’s plastic Sasquatch ex-wife trying to fish for some goodwill in all this with your faux support. STFU and continue to fade into obscurity.
In actual unexpected news, supermodel/superbeeyotch Naomi Campbell just had a baby (!), and forget about who the baby daddy could be or that she still has working ovums given her age and all the drugs she’s done over the years. I’m just bummed that she didn’t invite me to her baby shower so I could’ve given her this for her newborn:
Baby’s first toy! I would’ve also gifted her a doll dressed as a personal assistant for target practice.
A celebrity couple that’s been married for longer than two years is considered an anomaly these days, so leave it to one of my favorite celeb couples (they’re only one of a handful–most celeb couples bore or annoy me), Ice-T and the always demure golden rose Coco, to show everyone how true boobs, I mean, love is done. That pic radiates all the joy and boobs and love and thigh and boobs and, yes, I must talk about Coco’s top. It’s like a knockoff of J-Lo’s infamous Versace dress but cut down to minidress size and more see-through so that the goosebumps on your areolas can also pose for pictures. In short, THE perfect anniversary dress! (What, you expected me to call it tacky? Have you just started reading my blog?)
Congrats to them, and may they have many more boobs, er, years together!
Not me, of course. I refuse to chop off my long red locks. I have bills to pay.
Who knew that 2020 would not just take away a bunch of cool celebrities (boo) and selfish anti-mask choads (yay!), but also Keanu’s hair and beard?!
Buzzcut Neo is back on the menu! Now if only he can add a face mask to it. Come on, NuNu. You may look good at 490 years old but strange things really are afoot at the Circle K these days when crazy ass Nic Cage is besting you in the face mask scoreboard!
This week’s Hump Day post is brought to you by Rihanna on the September subscriber cover of Harper’s Bizarre (typo and it stays), wearing some designer coat that I’m sure was made from the skins of many Muppet rejects. If you’re wondering about the post title, I cannot be the only one who sees that coat & picture and think “flying processed cheese-dusted puffs!” They take up more space than the head of Miss Ooh Na Na! I’m sure fellow Cheeto hound Britney Spears saw this pic and also thought the same thing.
I like RiRi and the rest of her layout, but I refuse to give props to HB. Especially after all the times they foolishly gave covers to the K-trash, Cardi B Exhausting, and the Hadont sisters. Oh, and there was this criminal act of fuckery that should have caused Diana Vreeland to rise back up from the dead and bitch-slap HB’s delusional AF editor-in-chief (whoever she is/was). Frankly, if they really wanted to redeem themselves, they could’ve started by using this shot of RiRi for their cover instead:
High heels, diamonds, and sunglasses at night? Helmut Newton would approve. And if you’re wondering what’s in the trash bags, it’s the unsold products of Fist Brown’s latest album & Secondary Reality Show Personality’s “skincare” line (and RiRi’s got many, many more bags of the first two to throw out), as well as what’s left of Drake’s ability to find women 18 and over attractive, and Beyonce’s best weaves (RiRi would keep them but she’s got better taste!).
Just when this year be cunting (I know it’s not a word but roll with it) hard for the umpteenth time by revealing how much the supposed “Internet’s Boyfriend” enjoys wearing face masks in public (re: not at all), here comes a midriff-baring Venus from the heavens to save the day and salvage the year! Yes, it’s ubermodel/former spouse to an emu/my future wife Irina Shayk struttin’ her stuff in New York, showing the no-mask wearing lessers that you can flaunt hotness and safety. See, Keanu? It’s not that hard!
Look at my lady’s style–the face is in 2020 and the rest is in 1991. Needs some hoop earrings, a large print of Color Me Badd on the shirt, and a Motorola Micro-TAC to replace the hell phone in her hand to complete the throwback, but I still approve (duh)! If there was a Miss Quarantine Universe pageant, Irina would easily snatch the crown with this pic, hands down.
(Update 9/8/20: and yes, this was originally part of the previous post. But after re-reading it–almost two months after I posted it, I know–who was I to lump a masked goddess with that no-mask wearer in one post? Shame on me!)
Normally, fans meeting celebs don’t bother me. (I do get a little envious when they get to meet my faves.) So you’d think, in this time of a global pandemic where we gotta mask up, practice social distancing, and stay home as much as we can, celebs wouldn’t be able to meet their fans. And you’d think the supposed “good celebrities” would be following the new pandemic guidelines, right?
Nope! First Captain America running around mask-less with his new lady in London, and now *gasps* the beloved John Wick?!?!
In any other year, those pics would be innocuous. Right now, though?
And, sadly, that’s not the first time he’s gone out sans mask and social distance (clock the date of the post).
*sighs* It was just a year ago that I was a proud Keanu fan (but not a stan–I don’t stan for anyone because I know my faves will fuck up one way or another) who needed a coaster placed under her whenever his name was mentioned. Now, well…I’m still a fan in some ways, but I am much disappointment over this latest move. Don’t care how likable someone is–if they’re not taking this Covid shit seriously, I will be side-eyeing their ignant ass. It doesn’t help that there’s some revealing gossip on K’s mom, I mean, that chick that looks like his mom that he happens to be dating (see link above, and–fair warning–you’ll be sucked into that site).
The idea behind making this whole “inspo post” came about when I woke up yesterday. Which is an oddity because I usually can’t comprehend shit when I wake up. Anyway, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always admired a take-charge woman with a sense of style. Who’s not afraid to be ballsy, bitchy at times but also not scared to show some vulnerability, go out on her own, and life life the way she wants to, and look damn good while doing so. For those who want their ladies to be meek, dowdily dressed, stay in the background, and be known for nothing more than your lesser half, well…first off, fuck off with that shit and show some respect for your woman who deserves better. And, second, this post is not for you.
With the book I’m currently writing, I know my protagonist (who is female) has these elements. For me, I cannot write a female lead who’s spineless, vanilla, and a lovelorn wallflower. It just doesn’t attract me, and, consequently, stories that primarily focus on such a character that have her stay that way throughout turn me off. As I wrote in my very first entry, give me Lucky Santangelo over Anastasia Steele any day. Also, the more I go over the rest of my story (which is sorta-kinda almost finished, I should say), I feel like I’m giving similar traits to most of the other female characters of my story, whether they’re friends or enemies of my protagonist. What can I say, fierce and glamorous women rule my world.
It’s a GIF party after the jump (with some stills). You’ll find many recognizable faces. The image choices reflect more on the “fierce and glamorous” attitude as opposed to who’s in the image, although I admire all the women featured. (OK, most of them–a few have turned sour on me, but I used to adore the hell out of them before. I’ll let you figure out who they are.) No empty-eyed, vapid basics here.