America’s sweetheart and 25th favorite strip club act Nadya Suleman, aka Octomom, has officially been charged with three counts of felony welfare fraud by the Los Angeles County D.A.’s office. If only you could see how shocked we are.
The charges were filed yesterday, TMZ reported, and included “1 count of aid by misrepresentation, and 2 counts of perjury by false application for aid.” According to the county, Suleman failed to report almost $30,000 in income last year. Par for the octo-course, really.
The money allegedly comes from personal appearances (because some people actually paid her for those) and residuals from her solo porn video, which we’d rather watch 10 more times than write another piece on Farrah Abraham.
The D.A. wants bail set at $25,000, or 8,000 gallons of baby formula.
Farrah Abraham is a true renaissance woman. Whether she’s driving little Sophia to dance recitals appearing in strip clubs, drunk driving, releasing a line of sex toys, writing New York Times bestsellers, being annoying on reality television or being annoying in the prone position, she does it all. And now you can, too – because she’s writing a parenting book for you!
Farrah’s on “Couples Therapy” at the moment, bitching to Doctor Drew about how her fake boyfriend doesn’t appreciate her boobs or whatever, and dropped a bombshell that she plans on writing a trilogy of highly original erotic novels. Like Jenna Jameson. Or Sasha Grey. But after that, she announced her definitive guide to caring for children and doing butt stuff in the eyes of god.
What will she do next? Maybe start a clown college. Maybe best Joey Chestnut in a vaguely sensual hot dog eating contest. Who knows? Not us. All we know is that whatever she does, the big man’s looking out for her:
“Wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?” *Plays “Even Stevens” reruns*
Last night, while presenting at the Golden Globes, Jim Carrey took the stage to announce the winner of Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy. He opened this by reciting a famous quote – “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard,” – but then added this addendum: “I believe it was Shia LaBeouf who said that. So young, so wise.”
This, of course, was a reference to Shia’s recent plagiarism “Shia bein Shia” flap, wherein he blatantly copied a short film, and then apologized by plagiarizing several different apologies. But Shia was watching (he has eyes everywhere) and probably began firing off a whole bunch of “No, no no no no’s” in his head. Soon after Carrey’s quip, the “Transformers” star sent this tweet:
If you explain @JimCarrey you've killed him, Nobody knows if it's for real or not. That way he's immortal.
And even though his grammar and syntax are IMPECCABLE, he forgot to check his facts. Jim Carrey has not abandoned daughter Jane Carrey. In fact, they seem to be pretty tight. And Shia must have someone in his corner looking out for him, because eventually he saw the error of his tweets, ways and being:
Jim Carrey states that he is deeply involved in his daughter's life – I accept that,regret tweet on the matter. Apologies to both parents.
(It should also be noted that Jane Carrey is now the one and only person Shia follows on Twitter.)
Meanwhile, Jim Carrey hasn’t said a goddamn word, which is smart – but also odd, considering he has a track record of saying strange things via Twitter.
Hopefully this isn’t all bad. At the very least, we hope they can make up and Shia can come out of faux retirement for a cameo in “Dumb and Dumber Too.” Possibly one that involves being kicked in the balls, since he’s such a method actor.
The Consumer Electronics Show is a wealth of knowledge concerning upcoming innovations in technology. There are several people who would be suited for speaking to these topics, but Samsung, brilliantly, decided to go with destroyer of childhood dreams director Michael Bay. Predictably, it exploded in their faces.
Bay took the stage to plug Samsung’s new television — a 105-inch set that is curved to provide a more immersive viewing experience. After asking how everyone in the audience was doing (how kind?), he said: “My job, as a director, is I get to dream for a living” — completely bypassing scripted lines for Joe Stinziano, Samsung’s Executive Vice President.
Stinziano tried to recover, asking the director what inspired him. Bay began talking about how Hollywood creates a “viewer escape.” As he did, the teleprompter people scrambled to play catch-up due to his complete lack of ability to read lines off a screen, and Bay lost his place. He didn’t know how to describe what he does.
‘Ungh,” he groaned, neurotically swaying on his toes like Rain Man. “The type is all off. Sorry.”
Then an epiphany: Bay said he would “just wing” it. WHen Stinziano tried to prod him in the right direction, Bay took a look at the massive television and said nothing.
“The curve?” Stinziano pushed, motioning to the set. “How do you think it’s going to impact how people experience your movies?”
It was at this point that Bay apologized and excused himself, exiting the stage (not pursued by a bear) and leaving Mr. Stinziano to go it alone. He apologized to the audience and continued with the presentation.
Later, Bay took to his blog (where he once claimed to have been attacked by zombies) to explain himself, writing:
Wow! I just embarrassed myself at CES – I was about to speak for Samsung for this awesome Curved 105-inch UHD TV. I rarely lend my name to any products, but this one is just stellar. I got so excited to talk, that I skipped over the Exec VP’s intro line and then the teleprompter got lost. Then the prompter went up and down – then I walked off. I guess live shows aren’t my thing.
And if you’ve watched the video, you clearly saw a man excited to talk. What the teleprompter going “up and down” means? Not sure. Why he can’t articulate how his job involves telling dudes to hose down Megan Fox and detonate explosions? Not sure, either.
Either way, the moral of the story here is don’t invite Michael Bay to do anything for you except yell “action!” or maybe judge an amateur stripping competition. (And definitely don’t ask him anything about fine cinema.)
Reigning-but-retired porn queen Jenna Jameson has done some dirty things in her life. But none of them can match what the denizens of 4chan’s /b/ board, a wretched hive of scum and villainy, have accomplished in their short span on Earth. So when Jenna needed help tracking someone down, that’s exactly where she went:
Hi Guys, it’s me, Jenna Jameson and I am having a really bad night. My ex assistant who goes by the name of redacted turned out to be a con artist. I do not know if redacted is his last name.
I finally found him out and fired him… Since he was previed [sic] to my personal information such as passwords he reset and probably deleted my twitter @jennajameson and has also removed all pictures of me and him from my instagram.
He is completely fucking with my digital life and so I ask if you have any ideas of who he is please let me know. I am in the process of consolidating and resetting all my passwords. I will be attaching images of him shortly.
Chan residents greeted the message with an appropriate level of incredulity, and even though Jenna wrote “Please ‘no tits or GTFO” — a staple of the board — they said it anyway, demanding a naked photo before going onward with the investigation. She complied, snapping photos of her rack (which has held up remarkably well, considering her face is melting Bruce Jenner-style) as well as some of her in lingerie partaking in the “shoe on head” meme.
Within an hour, as per usual, the internet gumshoes took the images Jenna provided and retrieved a social security number, last known address, last place of employment and a credit score for the rogue assistant. (This is called “doxxing,” or gathering documents on a given target, and 4chan is fantastic at it.)
After receiving what she was looking for, she posted one more picture of her ass just to thank her personal not-so-private eyes.
The question remains: What, exactly, does Jenna plan to do once she finds this guy? Will we possibly see a return of the brass knuckle iPhone case? It’s too soon to tell.
Remember Cameron Diaz? Remember “The Mask”? Well, you’re old, because that came out nearly 20 years ago. But since the “Bad Teacher” residuals aren’t paying the bills, Cameron’s written a new book entitled “Body Book” – which happens to have a whole section called “In Praise of Pubes.” Seriously.
You can probably guess what this is all about, but here it is in Cameron’s own words:
“I hear that there’s a big fad these days of young women undergoing laser hair removal on all of their lady bits… Personally, I think permanent laser hair removal sounds like a crazy idea…I know you may think you’ll be wearing the same style of shoes forever and the same style of jeans forever, but you won’t. The idea that vaginas are preferable in a hairless state is a pretty recent phenomenon, and all fads change, people.
So if you ever run across Diaz at a Hollywood soiree and plan to woo her back to your hotel room with your knowledge of Proust or whatever the hell Cameron Diaz is interested in, be prepared to run into a tustle of Charlie’s Angel hair. She continues:
Pubic hair also serves as a pretty draping that makes it a little mysterious to the one who might be courting your sexiness…Pubes keep the goods private, which can entice a lover to come and take a closer look at what you have to offer…Also, let’s be honest: just like every other part of your body, your labia major is not immune to gravity. Do you really want a hairless vagina for the rest of your life?
And now you will never be able to watch “Knight and Day” on blu ray without picturing drooping vaginas. Just kidding. No one will ever purchase “Knight and Day.”
Finally, Diaz sums up everything by saying: “Consider leaving your vagina fully dressed, ladies. Twenty years from now, you will still want to be presenting it to someone special, and it would be nice to let him or her unwrap it like the gift that it is.”
And with one fell swoop, Cam’s successfully robbed the title of Pubemeister from Jennifer Love Hewitt (who will surely be crushed) and her vajazzler. Perhaps the two could collaborate on some sort of “too much information” project. We smell a podcast — and that’s all we’d like to smell, thank you very much.
Amanda Bynes has been awfully quiet lately. Too quiet. So quiet, in fact, we nearly missed the fact that she was released from rehab in early December (“It’s a Christmas Twerkicle!”). Nevertheless, she’s out, and was recently spotted walking around L.A. looking moderately able.
Manders was snapped with parents Rick and Lynn Bynes taking her dog for a walk through their Thousand Oaks neighborhood, and looking pretty fierce. Her microdermal piercings are gone, and her hair appears to have come back in nicely. Family lawyer Tamar Arminak weighed in, saying:
“She is doing very well and reestablishing a close and loving relationship with her family,”
So it appears this story has a happy ending after all (for everyone except that bong, at least). And like 2013, the batshit crazy Amanda of yesteryear is gone forever. We hardly knew ye.
Phil Robertson, transient hobo star of A&E’s somehow-hit show “Duck Dynasty,” will be allowed back onto the show after all those slack-jawed acquaintances you went to high school with petitioned on Facebook for his reinstatement.
This all began after Robertson spouted off about how gay people are bad and vaginas are, you know, totally cooler than butts. He followed this up with some delightfully tasteful comments about how black people were just peachy before that pesky “civil rights” thing came about. A&E promptly suspended him, and the outcry began.
Robertson became an unwashed hero to the unwashed masses. Thousands of angry, uneducated simpletons bombarded the network with (most likely) terribly misspelled letters claiming that this was a “free speech issue.” There is, of course, no free speech in corporate America. You have the right to bigoted, hateful speech, but you don’t have a right to keep your job while spewing it.
Regardless, Mr. Robertson — not to be confused with that other bigoted idiot, Pat Robertson — is coming back to television. The good news is you don’t have to watch it. You can just kick back with an issue of The New Yorker and pity people who do. Sort of like we do with “Honey Boo Boo” and “Hannity.”
We may be going to hell, but whatever’s down there can’t be worse than watching 45 minutes of the Robertson family “stroking their beards” — if you know what we mean, and we think you do — and thumping bibles.
It may be the day after Christmas, but Miley Cyrus just keeps on giving. A new video for “Adore You” has dropped, featuring the singer she-bopping herself beneath satin sheets and droning on about how much she loves an unnamed muse, which we’re safe to assume rhymes with Smiley Papyrus.
Lacking the understated sultriness of a Madonna or the poppy, fun upbeats of Cyndi Lauper, Miles spend the majority of the video writhing around in a bed with a video camera. It’s pretty much the same thing we’d imagine she does after drinking one too many juice boxes before being sent to bed.
Later on, she’s bathing in some sort of lace getup that would really not be conducive to loofah scrubbing at all. It really makes you wonder about Miley’s personal hygiene and, furthermore, Billy Ray’s — because how else does this sort of thing get passed on?
Despite being her most desperate attempt at boner-baiting, this is one of the least sensual things we’ve ever seen. She fondles herself like blind people grope faces in movies to picture how someone looks.
Ultimately, this is a boring video for a boring song. It’s so uneventful we couldn’t even write a timeline. But if you skip around and look at individual frames, you can interpret Miley’s expressions of bliss as pain and pretend to be shooting her with a taser. And that stretches the video’s novelty for at least another five minutes.
Farrah Abraham, mother and anal porn star extraordinaire, is nothing if not perceptive. So when she tunes to Radio Disney on her XM radio and hears Justin Bieber covering Burl Ives, she knows it’s time for the holidays. She may not know exactly when those holidays fall, how to celebrate any of them or what day it is — but she knows it’s time.
Case in point is this Keek video she posted yesterday, where she proclaims “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” like a valley girl with a mouth full of marbles. (At this very moment, Andy Williams‘ corpse is trekking across the country to exact vengeance.)
She then begins spewing a string of completely random words like a Speak & Spell that’s been thrown against a wall. First, she declares it to be “Ugly Sweater Sunday.” Not ugly Christmas sweater. Just ugly generic sweater. Farrah chose an aqua one, and it actually isn’t that ugly. It’s pretty standard sweater fare.
Next she giddily exclaims “Twelve day countdown!” and “So close to Christmas!” At the time of the video, of course, there were three days until Christmas, not twelve. Then she reverts back to the sweater thing – telling her fans to show her their ugly sweaters before signing off.
Technically, 12 days from the video’s posting would be January third. Could this be a sign? Could she be tipping us off to the date she will bring about the apocalypse by reflecting a mirror against her teeth and laying waste to everyone not wearing a sweater? We don’t know, aren’t eager to find out, either.