Saturday, 19 January 2013

MICHELLE OBAMA HAS A NEW HAIRDO! (EEP!) I NEED AIR!

MICHELLE OBAMA'S BORING HAIR IN THE YEAR B.B. (Before Bangs)

OMIGODOMIGODOMIGOD! Big news! This news is so big I can hardly breathe!  Michelle Obama, First Lady, wife of the leader of the free world, has a new hairdo! I'm talkin' bangs! Bangs! BANGS, people! Are you fainting right now? Are you falling off of your chair and having a seizure? Cuz if you aren't, you should be! 

This is pretty much the reaction the First Lady's new hairdo elicited among my female co-workers, and also the rest of the whole entire world, yesterday. When we first heard it, we were all like, "Oh for feck's sake, why should we care about her stupid hairdo?" and then someone pulled up a pic of her stupid hairdo online and we were all like "OMIGOD! She looks so cute! That hairstyle makes her look so much younger! It's the bangs! I want bangs! Bangs are awesome!" 
And our dildo  correspondent actually STOOD UP at her desk and wailed, "Michelle Obama is 49 and she looks adorable and I'm 27 and I feel like a bag of shit! Because I don't have bangs!" 
I am not even kidding.
  
Jesus Christ. Have we all gone retarded? Should we care this much about hair, really? Should we not worry that this instinctive reaction IS THE VERY REASON we will never be taken seriously, let alone be elected to run a country? 
Should we not worry that we do not seem to be able to control our urge to spaz over complete and utter twaddle?  
Should we not all just go out and get bangs? (Shit! I don't even know why I just said that!)

Editor's note: This from the woman who blogs about Kim Kardashian's boobs for a living.
My note: Do you have bangs? No you do not. So I do NOT have to listen to you. Please click here to see a photo and story on Michelle Obama's hot new bangs. Damn her.

ZAC EFRON CAUGHT RED-HANDED IN FOREST OF DILDOS

Zac Efron, dildos, Whorrified,
COMPLETELY NOT-GAY ACTOR ZAC EFRON
As seen against a backdrop of a forest of dildos. 
(Or, as Zac likes to call them, "rosy palm" trees.) 
Photo: Paul Smith/Featureflash


If my career as a gossip blogger doesn't pan out, I think I have a pretty good shot at being an adviser to the stars. I mean, how friggin' hard can that be? These guys are practically helpless! 

Consider young Zac Efron, who is currently in the midst of an embarrassing dildo situation. Apparently, Zac "freaked out" on paps who caught him perusing a collection of mesmerizingly erect and glowing dildos yesterday in New York. The star tore out of the dildo emporium after them, begging them to delete the images that would surely cement destroy his reputation, shrieking "IT'S FOR A MOVIE!" R-r-r-r-right.

See here's the thing, Zac: you only get to use that excuse once. And you used your "once" already, remember? That time? That one time in 2008, when you were caught shopping for a blow-up sheep sex doll "for a movie?" Remember? C'mon, you must remember.

If I were your adviser, Zackie (you don't mind if I call you Zackie, do you?), I would tell you you need to be a little more particular about the type of movies you do. Just as I told Keanu Reeves in a lengthy series of emails, which he foolishly ignored. And look how he ended up. I'm just sayin.' 

Editor's note: Kudos to our dildo bureau chief for tipping us off to the above item (click here for the link, I dare ya), which she stumbled across whilst diligently researching breaking dildo news. That chick deserves a raise or something! 
 

Friday, 18 January 2013

RIHANNA WILL BARE HER ARSE BUT NOT HER SOUL

ONE OF SEVEN CHASTE COVER SHOTS RIHANNA DID FOR COMPLEX MAGAZINE

As you can see from the image above, Rihanna's recent cover shoot for Complex magazine was a smashing success because she got to spend hours posing half naked, which, aside from chasing Chris Brown around the globe, is her favourite thing to do.
Her interview, on the other hand, was a little rocky. 

In a chat over lunch, where she unfortunately ordered calamaretti fritti instead of a big slice of Get Over Yourself, RiRi basically treated the interviewer the way she ought to be treating Chris Brown. Like dirt.

The problem seemed to stem from the fact that Rihanna is an idiot. The classic "Reporter asks questions, you answer" formula was completely lost on her, as was the concept of "But if you incessantly tweet photos of yourself in bed with Chris  followed by tweets about how you've dumped him, people will be confused."
In Rihanna's mind, the whole point of the interview was to promote her expertise in cussing, breast tattoos and self-portaiture. When the reporter lost sight of this riveting goal and instead asked about her bizarre relationship with Chris Brown, Rihanna gave her a death glare, gathered up her belongings and walked away.

It is unclear whether she was pissed off about being asked about the man who once turned her face into a Picasso or whether she just suddenly got one of her urges to go home take all her clothes off and tweet pictures of herself. When that urge comes over you, you just can't fight it.

Editor's note: Well, I'll tell you, I got everything I ever wanted to know about Rihanna out of that little preamble, but if you have a higher retching threshhold and would like to see the full Complex cover story and cover shots, click right here.

ANY DAY NOW, THAT LITTLE COTTAGE WILL BE MINE . . .

MY FRIEND AND ME AND PRINCE IGOR,
CHILLING AT THE COTTAGE

 The cottage that has basically been promised to me
and I didn't even have to sleep with the guy
who owns it! In fact he pretty much insisted 
that I not bother even trying. 



Some friends and I spent the weekend at one of my favourite places: a lakefront cottage tucked away in a secret nook in a Southwestern Ontario city. I can't tell you where it is because one day it will be mine and I don't want you people dropping in on me unannounced. I almost never wear clothing  and I doubt your little hearts could take the shock. 

Anyway, this cottage is currently owned by a charming, hospitable young friend who sometimes drinks a helluva lot of vodka, which may explain why he basically promised me this place someday. He did. I have witnesses. Unfortunately one of them is a Pekingese and the other one is a Rottweiler and neither of them like me very much, but still. If I have to, I will subpoena them. ("May I remind you that you are under OATH, you hairy little bastards!")

So, this place on the lake. I first saw it four years ago and fell in love with it. I've been back a few times and each time I fall a little harder. This last time I made such a drunken fuss about how much I love it that my friend told me I could have it someday if I would just  stop knocking back his vodka like there was no tomorrow.

"We're in the country, woman; if this runs out there's nothing left but the moonshine that hillbilly down the lane makes."
"Well that is fantastic because I LOVE MOONSHINE!" I screeched, sloshing a bit of vodka as I did so. (The Pekingese was on it in a flash and we didn't hear a peep out of him for the rest of the weekend.)

That was three days ago and now dude is pretending he can't remember a word of that conversation in which he promised me, I repeat, PROMISED ME his cottage. But I have a very good memory. And I also have the Pekingese. 
Dude probably never even missed the little bugger, but if he is sober enough to be reading this right now . . . well say hello to your little friend!

Pekingese's note: Vast swaths of this bitch's post are lies. But the part about him promising her that cottage? TRUE! (Now will you please let me go home?)

Thursday, 17 January 2013

HULK LAUNCHES NEW LAWSUIT; OLD ONE DIDN'T TAKE

HULK HOGAN, WEARING A LOVELY FEATHER BOA
  It is almost impossible to fathom why no one 
wanted to watch a  tape of this gentleman 
having sex with ... well, anyone. 
Photo/CreStock



  

Hulk Hogan may be a senior citizen but his energy level hasn't fizzled one iota and I'm sure that has nothing to do with the Viagra smoothies he chugs every morning.

You may recall that Hulk, whose new career is suing people, recently expended vast amounts of energy protesting a "leaked" sex tape in which he committed adultery with some classy biker hag. Alas, although he threatened to sue anyone who watched "THAT SEX TAPE I HAD NO IDEA WAS BEING MADE," exactly zero people had the stomach to call his bluff. And so the tape just sits there, unwatched, unwanted and collecting dust. It is very much like Hulk Hogan's penis in that regard.

And because Hulk's pool of remaining options is drying up faster than Jennifer Aniston's uterus, he's now betting all his chips on this one: a lawsuit alleging the back treatments he received at a Florida facility were bogus and damaged his career. (*little voice in my head* "Is he talking about the wrasslin' career that was over years ago or the sex tape career that never started?")

In full blowhard mode, Hulk alleges the Laser Spine Institute is  (wait for it) a bunch of frauds and "a total sham."  I'm just going to let that statement stew in its own irony for a moment. 

That's right: Hulk Hogan. WWF wrestler. Professional fake fighter. Is calling someone a fraud and their line of work a total sham. 
I seriously cannot wait to hear what his next lawsuit will be.

Editor's note: If he wants to sue somebody, he should start with his barber. That moustache could star in its own sex tape.

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

RYAN GOSLING IS ON THE COVER OF GQ AND ... THAT'S ALL

RYAN GOSLING, GQ AUSTRALIA FEBRUARY/MARCH 2013 EDITION

I admit it. This is a completely gratuitous picture of Canada's own Ryan Gosling as featured on the cover of the February/March edition of GQ Australia, along with the obsequious, grovelling and yet entirely fitting teaser: "We talk to the coolest man on the planet." (The words "who is sleeping with MARIE SUTHERLAND OF BRAMPTON, ONTARIO!" were cut at the last minute due to space restrictions.) 

There is no reason for this photograph. No reason at all, other than that I wanted to give my sisters some delicious man candy on an otherwise barren January day. You're welcome.

MEGAN FOX JUST CAN'T BE THAT SOCIAL BUTTERFLY, OK?

I HAVE GIVEN YOU TATTOOS, IMPLANTS AND 
ALL THE SULTRY POUTS YOU COULD WANT
I do not owe you people a friggin' Twitter account!
Photo/CreStock
 
Listen, you morons, fame is not something Megan Fox ever wanted, all right? It just came chasing after her and dragged her into its hoary lap . . . right after she got breast implants. 
Which sort of mirrors her feelings about this "social media thing." Twatter, Facetube, the Interweb: she doesn't want any of that crap either, but goddammit, the world just keeps DEMANDING TO KNOW what Megan Fox thinks about stuff! 

So even though she seems like a selfish bitch, she apparently isn't one because she made herself gag it down (an experience that no doubt reminded her of her first audition) and joined Twitter last week. Although, frankly, she wasn't very nice about it and she made sure we all knew what a huge favour she was doing us. Because heaven knows she is terribly busy posing for bikini shots and learning her five lines for Nanny Banger III.

Well, selflessness is just so foreign to Megan her body flat-out rejected it. After a mere week of tepid tweeting, she deleted her Twitter account and joined Facebook instead, posting:  "I thought that 2013 might be the year that I finally blossomed into a social networking butterfly … but as it turns out I still hate it. Love you guys but I will just never be that girl. Facebook is as much as I can handle."

I'm sure all of you will join me in grovelling prostration as we thank Megan for making this sacrifice for us. You may not be a social networking butterfly, Megan, but by god you are a saint. For those of you who'd like to worship at the Mahatma's breasts Facebook site, simply click here, and let the mind-expanding updates begin. 

JODIE, OPRAH, LANCE REVEAL STUNNINGLY OLD NEWS

SCORE! GOT HIM TO 
CONFESS TO BEING GAY! 
Wait, no, that was Jodie. Oh well, watch the 
entire tedious two-hour interrogation anyway!
Photo/CreStock
This week in "Things We Already Knew," Jodie Foster shocked maybe two people by finally admitting to being gay. While the rest of the audience at the Golden Globes looked at each other and asked, "Why is she telling us this here? And now?" two twelve-year-olds who lied about their age to get in looked at each other and asked, "Who's Jodie Foster?"

In other "TWAK" news, Oprah's people dutifully leaked her interview with disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong, enabling forcing Oprah to confide that he confessed to drug use. Marvelous! This saves me the bother of watching the two-hour oeuvre, which, for those of you who are easily shocked and amused and did not already think Lance was a doper, airs Thursday.

THIS JUST IN: SOMETIMES MEN SAY STUPID THINGS

TRUE OR FALSE: THESE RED STILETTOS ARE UNCOMFORTABLE ... 
BUT THEY'RE HOT, SO I WILL WEAR THEM
 If you answered "true," you are a woman. Or a transvestite. 
Either way, good answer!

Contrary to what you might assume from reading this blog, I don't hate men, I love them. OK, "love" might be a bit strong. I like men. Except when they say stupid things, which unfortunately happens fairly often if you share a home with them and expect them to help you clean it.
  
Take this example of an excuse that was spouted by a fellow I once lived with. Oh don't worry, there've been several and most of them can't read, so the odds of him seeing this and thinking, "That bitch! She's talking about ME!" are slim. Unless I supplied his initials, which are "J-O-H-N  S-M-I-..." Hahahaha! I kill me!
But seriously, this otherwise lovely fellow I once knew in the biblical sense often tried to avoid housework by reminding me of how enthusiastically he "used to" help out when it was all new and fun. He would say, and I quote: "Don't you remember when I used to clean that stove like it was my baby?"  
Yeah, here's the thing about "used to":  IT'S GONE!
As in I "used to" be a virgin.
I "used to" be 29.
I "used to" live in my parents' basement rent-free and had money coming out my VAGINA!
Guys, please. You're going to have to do a lot better than this to get out of helping us. Try: "Jesus Christ, I've just had both arms sawed off in a drive-by maiming!" That would work for me, and for most women I know. 

Then there are the cloddish observations men make. Such as commenting on a woman's weight gain, correctly guessing a woman's age when asked or, perhaps most egregious of all, offering unasked-for opinions on a woman's attire. Such as this one, when a male co-worker asked a female co-worker about her incredibly sexy shoes.
"Those can't be comfortable," he said.
"No, not really," she said.
"Then why do you wear them?" 
Fortuitously, I . . .  the woman who wears the least sensible shoes in the entire building, maybe even on the entire city block . . . happened to walk by at this very moment, and my female co-worker enlisted me to help make her point.

"I love your shoes, Marie," she said. "Are they comfortable?"
"Oh hell no!" I said.
"Then why are you wearing them?" she asked. 
For one moment, I just looked at her like she was crazy, and then we both burst out laughing while our male co-worker looked on in nervous confusion.
 I could go on, but really there's no need. I think I have made my point . . . and also I am starting to wonder if in fact I do like men after all.

Monday, 14 January 2013

PLEASE ENJOY RESPONSIBLY. (READ INSTRUCTIONS)

THE BAR IS NOW OPEN . . .

Liquor and chocolate, together in one handy receptacle. Whoever invented these is a genius. Usually I'm in such a hurry to ingest these bad boys I don't even look at the box. But when it fell into the garbage can face-down recently, I noticed these instructions on how to properly eat a booze-filled chocolate, and it is nothing like how I usually eat them. (Unwrap frantically. Insert into mouth whole. Crunch once. Swallow.) 
And all along I thought I was eating these things the right way. I could have DIED! 

Because I care about you deeply, I'm providing the instructions, below, for your consideration. Please read carefully. (Caution: May require many hours of dutiful practice eating.)