Saturday, 26 January 2013


I was not privy to this conversation but I imagine Michael Patrick is saying, "So why do they call you '2 Chainz?' " and Chainz responds, "Well, the thing is ... I like to wear TWO CHAINS!"

Convicted repeat felon and prodigious potty mouth 2 Chainz, one of the hottest rappers on the planet thanks mostly to those opening credentials I just gave you, is set to make his acting debut on the sit-com Two Broke Girls next month. And I cannot imagine why he chose this particular show on which to pop his man-cherries except that maybe he has some contract that says he will only appear in shows that have part or all of his name in them. Or that require no acting ability whatsoever. 
Chainz is going to play himself in the episode, which I assume means it will be set in a strip club and that the show's name will be changed to Two Broke Big Booty Hoes. And despite my almost palpable derision, I assure you I plan to tune in to this show. Because someone might get shot, yo!

2 Chainz note: Man, the episode airs Feb 11. Make sure y'all b*tches watch dat sh*t, cuz iss gon be *bleeep* *bleeep* *bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!*

Friday, 25 January 2013


She Whose Ass  
You Are Not Worthy to Kiss
Things Adele is better at than Shakira: Singing.

Things Shakira is better at than Adele: Everything else.
Things Adele thinks she is better at than everybody: Sorry. Not enough room here to answer that.

I am not a big fan of Adele. I used to be, but then I realized she's such a massive fan of herself that she doesn't need anyone else doing the job. Her latest snotty affectation is refusing to divulge her four-month-old son's name. "I am not ready to share that information with you," she huffs. Tacit implication: None of your goddam business, shitheads. Just buy my records and respect my privacy. And also my supremacy.
There is a fine line between diva and bitch, Adele. And you are sitting on it.

At the polar opposite end of the attitude scale we have ... Shakira. A sunny, humble little confection who, it's true, is not much of a singer but nobody cares about that once she starts shaking her Colombian hips anyway. Unlike Adele, who acts like she can barely tolerate our stinky existence, Shakira seems to like us. Or maybe it's just that Adele is such a shrew by comparison that I want to perform maundy on Shakira simply because she smiles and tells us her baby's name. (Milan. Three days old. I love him already, because his mom is so-o-o-o-o-o-o-o nice!)

EDITOR'S NOTE: After four months of exhaustive and, frankly, weird head games with the press, Adele finally leaked the chosen one's name yesterday by wearing a chain with the name Jesus Christ of Nazarene on it. (Kidding. It says "Angelo." Which was totally worth waiting for, wasn't it?)


Note the thigh-high PETA taunters and 
the insouciant "looks like I'm waving but 
I'm actually giving you the finger" gesture.

Jennifer Lopez is probably my favourite celebrity. And here is why: Because she is a capital "D" diva who rides both sides of the crazy bus. Sometimes she is the ultimate style icon who rocks head-to-toe couture, and other times she is a fashion disaster who mixes her breeds (see The Cougar Wore Leopard, left).

In the past few years she has been both a demure married mom who stayed home with her twins and sang boring duets with her husband and, more recently, a cradle-robbing divorcee who wears see-through unitards while the paid help, also known as backup dancers, crawl all over her onstage. (And I described that pretty literally, but click here in case you need a visual.) 

Sometimes she is sweet and giggly and signs autographs like she's just Jenny from the Block, and other times she is Joan Crawford, summoning front desk staff to have maids beheaded when they dare to knock on her hotel room door. ("WHO GOES THERE?"  
It's me, Conceptione. I just wanted... "GUARDS! SEIZE HER!") 

Yes folks, Jennifer Lopez is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get, but it is always delicious. CLICK HERE for a link to an assorted selection of J Lo's cream-filled bon-bons.

Thursday, 24 January 2013


You know, when you've had three daughters, two divorces and a head-on collision (the collision was easiest), you don't shock easily. But this? This video of a baby miraculously averting death in a crash on a Russian highway infested with tractor-trailers? This is the wildest thing I have ever seen. A friend of mine tipped me off to this video, which I watched over and over and over again ... at work, I admit it. And as I watched it, a few deep and, if I may say so, very insightful thoughts occurred to me. 
In an analysis worthy of the BBC, I present them to you here, in no particular order:

A) This baby was obviously being watched over by whatever they call God in Russia. 
(Editor: "Putin." They call him "Putin." He makes them, otherwise it's Pussy Riot all over again.)
B) They're not big on car seats in Russia.
C) The winters we used to get in Canada have moved to Russia. 
D) Whoever was holding that video camera has a warped sense of priorities.
E) What. The. Hell. Is in. That other bundle? (Editor: Mother-in-law.) 

Watch this very short video for yourself and see if the same thoughts don't occur to you. Fasten your seatbelt and click here for the link to THE LUCKIEST BABY ALIVE! (Note: The second version explains what really happened here.)

Wednesday, 23 January 2013


Well here's a "scandal" I can't really get worked up about. Like, at all. For those of you who missed this world-altering event . . . well first of all, please sit down, I don't want any of you tumbling over on my watch . . . Beyonce apparently LIP-SYNCED the national anthem at Barack Obama's inauguration. EEEEEEEEP! I know, right? "Scandal" is exactly the word that comes to mind here! This is right up there with Monica Lewinsky fellating a married president in the Oval Office! This is right up there with (for the Canadians in the house) Shawinigate. (You know. That thing? That scandalous conflict-of-interest lobbying thing when Jean Chr├ętien ... oh, forget it, even our scandals are boring.) 

So Beyonce lip-synced the national anthem because it was colder than a witch's tit and she didn't want to leave anything to chance and news outlets are going berserk but anyone who knows anything about live performances is yawning and saying, "Really? We're getting upset about this?"
In fact the only person who is upset about this is cellist Yo-Yo Ma, who mimed his performance at Obama's  inauguration in 2008 and nobody cared. Our Believable Lies correspondent tells me Yo-Yo called U.S.A. Today to ask why that never made headlines and was told, "Because you're not bootylicious."

EDITOR'S NOTE: Well I'm confused. Was she lip-syncing over Barbra Streisand's voice?
My note: No.
Editor's note: Over Ella Fitzgerald's voice?
My note: No.
Editor's note: Over Barney the Dinosaur's voice?
My note: No! She was lip-syncing over her own voice.
Editor's note: Wow. Stupidest scandal ever.


Is that one of God's own angels calling my name? 
Don't fret, Fatima, I am coming back! As soon as 
I sign a couple of cookbooks and harvest 
some wholesome free-range seaweed! 

In her ongoing mission to exalt the planet and the miserable hoi polloi who inhabit it, Saint Gwyneth of the Grain-Fed Martyrs is taking a break from knitting hairshirts to focus on helping the poor. And by poor, I mean everybody who isn't her.

Recently, if you'll remember, Saint Gwyneth allowed a glimpse into her immortal soul by busting the pernicious myth that she is perfect. She admitted to U.S.A. Today in no uncertain terms that she has flaws, the biggest one being that she is perfect. "One of my most negative qualities is the perfectionism that I have, and I think that I unconsciously project that." (Correct, Saint Gwyneth. In fact, you not only project it, you fucking RADIATE it.)

This week, it's parenting tips.
And I don't know about you, but I can't wait to hear what tips a mom who named her kids Apple and Moses and who only lets her kids watch television in Spanish instead of their native English has to share with us. (Please do not ask me why she only lets her kids watch television in Spanish. I have no idea, but I'm sure it has something to do with perfection.)

And although you will obviously never be as perfect as Saint Gwyn, she nevertheless gets a huge kick out of watching you try. So humour her, won't you? Here, from morning flax to group baths, are some tips on how you too can strive for but never achieve the level of parental perfection Saint Gwyneth achieves without even trying. 
Wait, don't go yet . . . you didn't get your free hairshirt!

Tuesday, 22 January 2013



I know Whorrified is usually a sweet, sugary mountain of fluff drizzled with delicious, decadent snarkasm. But there have been some sombre developments in my personal life and so for today, I have some serious matters to discuss. 
I need to talk to you about ... my hair. 
The gray other colour is just growing in too fast, so I think maybe it's time to switch shades. I'm getting sick of the constant maintenance of being blonde ... what, you thought I was a natural blonde?  That's priceless. Although I do look spectacular, I must say.

Anyway, what I'm looking for here is a little input. Click on the captions, above, to see the unretouched versions of what I look like with red, blonde and my natural dark hair, and feel free to weigh in. Please, no "I'll shave you bald again if you like" suggestions. Dildo correspondent, I am lookin' at YOU.

Editor's note: What IS it with you and Carrot Top?

My note: Just this: he scares me shitless. You know those nightmares you have as a kid when a demon clown is chasing you through the streets trying to catch you and kill you? That friggin clown looked EXACTLY like Carrot Top!
Editor's note: So red's out, then.


"Sho I shays to her, I shayss GOOD ASS! 
But she thought I said GODDESS. Ha ha *hic* ... 
Who the hell are you again?"

Things have really improved for Charlie Sheen since he allegedly sobered up. First he raised his dating standards and upgraded to a slightly-less-slutty goddess (as previously discussed here). This new goddess, Georgia, is just into girl-on-girl porn, whereas his previous goddess, Bree, was into unspeakable porn. To put that in perspective for normal people, that would be like you or I dumping an illiterate, thieving wife-beater and moving on to an illiterate alcoholic. (It's progress, okay? Just let it go.) 

Anyway, after Charlie made this improvement, the doors to normalcy swung open like the gates to L. Ron Hubbard's initiation pod. For example, that epic meltdown last year: Dirty old Charlie would have totally denied that was a bad thing. Crisp new Charlie is able to see it for what it was: A bad steroid trip.

During an appearance on Piers Morgan's talk show last week, Charlie revealed that it was steroids that made him "crazy." That's right. It was the 'roids. Cuz 'roids will do that if you crush them to a powder and snort them by the snootful and then chase that with a bag of nine-gram rocks. 

And speaking of men who do crazy things and then blame it on steroids, Charlie also touched on the subject of Lance Armstrong. He told Piers he met him once, noting, "he wasn't the friendliest guy in the world." From which I infer that Lance was a total prick to him. Because as we all know, Lance is a very scrupulous person and would not approve of having to share a room with someone who uses drugs.

Here's a link to the Piers Morgan interview. Aside from the parts where Piers Morgan talks, it's fantastically entertaining as only interviews with candid lunatics can be.

Monday, 21 January 2013


Actually, in hindsight, maybe one regret. (See below.)  

Jennifer Lopez's "people" are vigourously denying a New York Post report that she is freaked out by her latest cover of People magazine because she thinks it makes her look "old and haggard." Which clearly means she thinks her latest cover of People magazine makes her look "old and haggard." J Lo reportedly spazzed when she saw it and said she looks like fashion designer Betsey Johnson. Who is 70. (Betsey to J Lo: "Like that's a bad thing?")
Yeah. So let us all just observe a moment of silence for poor, hideous Jennifer Lopez, who looks so very old and so very haggard. For feck's sake, Jennifer. Most of us would crack open a bottle of champers if we looked like this.

Editor's note: More importantly, I note that J Lo is rocking bangs. Bangs! BANGS, people! First Michelle Obama, now J Lo . . . I gotta get me some bangs!
My note: Mmhmm. You do that.


A completely gratuitous pic of Tom Brady. 
Who is  ... wow. What? Dreamy. Huh? 
(I'm sorry, I can't seem to think straight right now.) 

Happy Monday, or Butt Day as it is known in this part of the world. Beg your pardon? It's not known as Butt Day? Well it should be, and here are at least two people who agree with me: Justin Bieber and Tom Brady.
You may not ordinarily think of Justin Bieber when you think of butts, but after this tasteful Instagram pic he sent out (and then deleted), that may change forever. And may I just say, Justin, you really need to be doing some squats and lunges. Cuz for a moment there, I thought I was looking at flapjacks.

As for Tom Brady, well if you watched the big game yesterday for even two seconds, you saw more than enough closeup evidence of why photos of Tom Brady's butt deserve to be shown every Monday. (Justin, take a good look at this link. THAT RIGHT THERE is what a man's butt should look like.)