This week the San Fernando Valley went into panic mode after porn performer Cameron Bay tested positive for HIV, resulting in a huge industry-wide shitstorm. You may never have heard of this chick, but here’s why we’re talking about her: It turns out that the last scene she shot was with Xander Corvus, the guy who provided Anthony Weiner‘s weiner for Sydney Leather’s hardcore debut, Vivid’s “Weiner and Me.” (And the award for most uses of “weiner” in one sentence goes to …)
Sydney Leathers, the woman who rocketed to the D-list after it was revealed that New York City mayoral candidate Anthony Weiner was sending her pictures of his little namesake, is officially a porn star.
Leathers released a tape in early August (understanding 15 minutes go by very fast, she didn’t waste time), but it was a boring solo video where she diddled herself on a couch or something Octo-mom style. Now, she’s stopped fucking around (or started?) and is opting for some hardcore penetration from the gentleman you see above, who’s making his sexiest face. (HE’S A PROFESSIONAL, PEOPLE.)
Lots of people criticize this decision, as they did when “Teen Mom” star Farrah Abraham made the same calculated choice. But really, when your skill set is picking out the right filter for pictures of your cooter or having babies out of wedlock … why not?
Plus, if you consider the fact that Sydney has already been moonlighting as a straight up prostitute, she’s basically doubled her income stream just by doing what she normally does. Score!
The XXX film, “Weiner and Me,” will be released under Vivid Entertainment’s “Vivid Celeb” imprint — putting Sydney among the questionable ranks of klassy ladies like Shauna Sand, Kim Kardashian, former professional wrestler Chyna Doll, and Tom Sizemore. (We’re sure that Sizemore tape is selling super well.)
Hopefully the title is subsequently changed to “Weiner and I,” because that’s going to keep us up nights.
These are troubling times in the Gaga kingdom. As you may or may not already know, Lady Gaga‘s new album ARTPOP looks to be about as in demand as the complete series of The Chevy Chase Show on Blu-ray. And desperate times call for desperate measures.
Thomas Gibson, star of “Criminal Minds” (previously seen as Greg in “Dharma and Greg” whenever I accidentally forgot to shut off the TV and it just came on – I SWEAR), is probably wishing he was more like his uptight television personas after a video he shot for an anonymous internet stranger was leaked. Apparently playing an FBI agent doesn’t mean you have the investigative skills of one.
In the video — shot during Christmastime last year — the married Gibson sits in a Utah hot tub alone and laments the fact that no one wants to soak with him and awkwardly talks about how beautiful it is there. Alone. You half-expect to hear the Charlie Brown sad music queue up in the background.
Gibson allegedly met the video’s recipient on Twitter, where she initiated correspondence using an account with a fake profile picture. That blossomed into a two-year online relationship with the star.
She now claims she exchanged multiple dirty videos and images with him — except hers were stolen from porn sites. Although her identity hasn’t been revealed, she says she’s 27 and from North Dakota. (Leaving a chance she’s Wilford Brimley, or maybe Jenna Elfman trying to ensnare him into Dianetics.)
After Gibson found out his sexting partner’s photos were fake (which took a whole fucking minute of research on Google Images), he allegedly had his legal representation demand she leave him alone to make himself look like even less of a buffoon. So now, like any entrepreneurial American, she’s going public!
Before he killed his Twitter page earlier tonight, his account bio read, “CBS wants me to keep a Twitter account. Last time didn’t go so well. Let’s see what happens over the next 2 years.” And when a follower asked for his side of the TMZ story, he insisted the video was “spliced.”
Let’s go to the judges.
I’m not gonna lie: I’m a little worried about Jay-Z. A few weeks ago, he showered (what I really hope was ironic) praise on Miley Cyrus. Now he’s been willingly photographed with Justin Bieber.
The overgrown Canadian toddler posted the shot on his Instagram page, and in the photo, Jay has one arm slung around (the very funny) Kevin Hart, and it looks like his other arm is around the Biebs.
NO, HOVA, NO.
Look, I think Miley is about as transparent a poseur as I’ve ever seen, but I (somewhat) understand why guys like Pharrell are working with her. It’s a quid pro quo thing — she gets the hip-hop cred she’s clearly so thirsty for, and they get exposure to her millions of mainstream pop fans. And if she’s gonna pretend she’s into “urban,” at least she’s surrounding herself with credible names.
But Bieber? These days he’s little more than a bratty wanna-be thug who’s more famous for needing a proper ass beating than anything else. Being seen with him increases no one’s stock. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that I was pretty ambivalent about Will Smith, and then I found out Justin regards him as kind of a second father. Say Will’s name now and my Pavlovian response is to smell vinegar and water.
What I’m saying is I adore Jay-Z and if Bieber ruins that for me, I may hunt him down and beat his ass myself.
Today, August 17th, is Madonna’s 55th birthday. That makes this as good an occasion as any to point out that Madge is morphing into an amalgamation of every young and potentially threatening pop star that crosses her path. In a bid to claw her way back to the top of the relevancy pile, Madonna has begun to systematically take on the attributes of her competition, sort of like in The Thing From Another World, only far more frightening.
Chris Brown — singer, dancer, member of the He-Man Woman Hater’s Club — was hard at work Friday night on what could be his last album EVER when the karmic weight of his douchebaggery collapsed in on him like a Florida sinkhole.
Or, you know, he had some sort of seizure. At least that’s what the person who called 911 said. (Then again, of course that’s what they’d say. Ambulances almost never show up to save anyone from their own bad karma.)
Apparently Breezy’s not an epileptic, and he’s not known to have a Lil Wayne-like affection for sizzurp — so why did an otherwise healthy 24-year-old guy have a seizure?
Here’s his rep’s story:
“His doctor tended to him this afternoon and attributes the NES [non-epileptic seizure] to intense fatigue and extreme emotional stress, both due to the continued onslaught of unfounded legal matters and the nonstop negativity.”
OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS. THIS IS OUR FAULT. OURS. WE DID THIS. US. YOU AND I.
Well, that’s what we get for helping beat the pretty off Rihanna‘s face four years ago. Oh, you weren’t there for that? How about for all the times he’s shown his ass since and reminded people over and over — and over — that his reputation as a rage-monster is well-founded?
Huh. Maybe Chris is far too modest and just giving us credit where it isn’t deserved. But really, we shouldn’t expect any less from a guy christened “God’s anointed” by his own mother.
Lady Gaga has been squirreled away in a secret, subterranean bunker in the Adirondacks,
pouring cereal all over herself and binge eating working hard on her new album, ARTPOP. (A concept album about a very pretentious soda. I’m looking at you, Fresca.) Now a demo for the album’s first single has conveniently “leaked,” just as people were no longer giving two shits about Lady Gaga.
The song, “Burqa,” is a completely incoherent mess, with Gaga grumbling through the verses in that feigned accent she did on Born This Way’s “Americano” — but this time it’s almost as if she’s doing a Jim Varney impression or gargling sandpaper.
The lyrics detail the story of a woman who murders someone in the desert, sleeps with multiple men who have big penises, doesn’t get caught (possibly because of that burqa disquise) and then proceeds to lure more men with her irresistible, pseudo-Middle Eastern charm.
Here’s a sample:
I’m not a wandering slave
I am a woman of choice
My veil is protection for the gorgeousness of my face
You want to fancy me cause there’s always one man to love
But in the bedroom,
The size of them’s more than enough
Do you wanna see me naked, lover?
Do you wanna peak underneath the cover?
Do you wanna see the girl who lives behind the aura, behind the aura?
Bob Dylan is definitely jelly.
Is the song supposed to promote tolerance of other cultures and show they’re good people? Because having someone in a burqa commit murder and stuff the body in a car trunk doesn’t exactly get the job done. Plus, it isn’t cutting edge. (We’ve all seen “24,” Gaga.)
No telling whether this will return Gaga’s profile to its old prominence, but let’s hope so. Because otherwise we’re stuck with
Flock of Seagulls Miley Cyrus.
Remember that time TMZ reported that all the drugs mashed up into Amanda Bynes‘ daily bowl of peanut butter and marijuana were working and she was getting better? None of that was true at all.
In fact, doctors deemed it necessary to extend Mander’s psych hold for another 30 days, saying she is “gravely disabled.” Meanwhile, her parents have been granted temporary conservatorship so they can make sure she doesn’t spend any more money on electric socks or bong footballs. TMZ reports:
The conservatorship not only covers Amanda’s personal well-being, it gives her mom the ability to manage her finances. Amanda’s $4 million savings have been rapidly depleted, though it’s unclear what she’s been spending money on. The judge cautioned the parents not to make any significant deals without consulting with Amanda’s lawyer.
This judge is worried about her parents making a deal with … who? Maybe there’s a pet accelerant company just waiting for an endorsement. Meanwhile, Amanda’s lawyer is busy googling how much plane tickets to Uruguay cost this time of year.
So the moral of the story is that if you’re rich, you can go all over the country running people over and assaulting random strangers like a methed-out Tasmanian devil and your reign of terror will only be stopped once you endanger an animal.
Remember Paul Schrader? That guy who brought you “American Gigolo” and the insanely popular “Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist”? Well, now that he’s realized no one wants to see his latest effort, “The Canyons,” starring Lindsay Lohan (see: drug addict) and James Deen (see: porn star), he’s started the obligatory press tour, telling behind-the-scenes drama about Lindsay
snorting cocaine off the backs of baby elephants while wearing a rain poncho being Lindsay.
“Tardiness, unpredictability, tantrums, absences, neediness, psychodrama—yes, all that, but something more,” Schrader told Film Comment magazine. “That thing that keeps you watching someone on screen, that thing you can’t take your eyes off of, that magic, that mystery.”
Alright, Paul. I’m no expert, but I believe the word you are desperately searching for here is “tits.” There’s nothing mysterious about them (except maybe why we don’t have more public monuments dedicated to the subject).
But then he raised the pretentious shittiness to a whole new level, directly comparing Lohan to Marilyn Monroe.