Let’s get hypothetical for a moment. Say there was a fame-starved young heiress who allowed a sleazy has-been film producer to videotape the sex she gave him in exchange for his idle promise to help further her lifelong quest for celebrity.
And let’s imagine the resulting footage was later “leaked” to the Internet, becoming a viral video sensation despite her confounding lack of fame (outside of Maxim readers), personal accomplishment or sexual prowess, thus turning a completely unlikable amateur porn star into a household name, on the cover of mainstream magazines, practically overnight. I know this hypothetical scenario seems like completely improbable lunacy, but just bear with me for a minute after the jump.
If you’ve ever wondered to yourself “Hmm… I wonder what it would feel like to be inappropriately man-handled by Armageddon star Ben Affleck“, your wish has been granted. Just put yourself in the position of Montreal TV host Anne-Marie Losique, who reenacts our childhood nightmare of asking Drunk Santa to stop touching us in our bathing suit place for Christmas. It’s NSFW, if you’re not allowed to feel really uncomfortable and awkward at work.
Lindsay Lohan has had better weeks. First, there was the whole pig va-hee-na spectacle of a few days ago, where a well-timed breeze and silky skirt conspired to collectively ruin the world’s appetite. Now, the poor thing’s purse was stolen at Heathrow airport. And not just any purse, but a HermÃ¨s Birkin Bag, the kind of bag that even Marie Antoinette‘s corpse is still on the waiting list for. The bag itself is worth thousands (at least we know where her college fund is going). But Lindsay also happen placed nearly a million dollars worth of jewelry inside the orange bag, which was then stolen by a clear genius off of an unattended luggage trolley.
Correct us if we’re wrong, but if you’re going to hop on a plane with a Pirates of the Caribbean-like cache of jewels, wouldn’t you put it in a less obvious vessel than a Hermes bag? Like… a horse feeder? Or something totally last sleezon — like a leather-patchwork QVC organizer? Did this bitch never see Casino? You gotta hide the diamonds in your hair! Or put them up your fuschia nethers! Really, Lindsay, for a girl with no education and an attitude prob, we’re a little surprised at your lack of sechel (Yiddish for common sense… we’re feeling Grandmotherly and judgmental.)
Reports are now saying that Lindsay has gotten her bag back, but no word yet on whether the jewels were inside. So if you see some tattered, toothless Brit walking around Heathrow in a diamond-studded thong holding money-sacks full of cocaine, call the authorities.
Some things are so amazing, not sharing them with the world would be criminal. If you watched WWF Wrestling in the 80′s and/or played with toys, this is one of those things. Reader bigslizz must’ve been saying prayers and taking vitamins, cause they dropped us a doozy.
It’s Best Night Ever for Thursday, September 7th! Shea Hess is here to walk you through the best of Thursday night tv, including ‘Til Death, Happy Hour, and Celebrity Duets!
We know you know, but to reiterate: Paris Hilton was handcuffed last night for the first time without there being any foreplay involved, after police discovered she was driving under the influence. After spending an entire 15 minutes in “the slammer”, Paris was released back into the wild, giving her the freedom of calling up Ryan Seacrest‘s radio show early this morning to explain herself. The gist of it — and these are actual quotes — Paris was filming her “new musical video”… but she “had not ate all day”. She then went to “this charity event Dave Navarro threw for brain tumors.” Wait. Dave Navarro is throwing charity events for brain tumors?? Aren’t we overlooking the real problem here — celebrities are raising money for brain tumors! And in a cruel and twisted joke on God, they’re inviting Paris Hilton to help them.
Oh God. A little bit of blood just came out of our ears. Thanks, Dave Navarro.
More on point, you can hear the entire interview here, and then thank God you don’t have to ever deal with Paris over the telephone. It’s like Robert De Niro in Awakenings, for real.
UPDATE: Mystery solved. To quote a real life SuicideGirl, Alyk, “Yeah, that ‘charity event Dave Navarro threw for brain tumors’ was actually our five year anniversary party. Dave Navarro’s band played at the party, and the ticket sales benefited ‘Head to Hollywood,’ but it was still a party with an open bar and naked ladies dancing.” Phewww! And for the record, no one saw her drinking!
I didn’t think there was anything more annoying about Ellen DeGeneres than that stupid little “smiley dance” thing she does at the beginning of her show until today, when shortly after doing said dance, Ellen launched into a painful soliloquy about her utter befuddlement over the concept of “blogs”, and people “sharing their personal thoughts online”. To learn more, she turns to audience member “Kayleeeee”, who explains how she uses this “blog thingy on the MySpace” to write about her trip to Disneyland. Ellen’s startling incompetence and awkward rambling somehow makes Tony Danza’s daytime talkshow musings look like Shakespearean monologues. Sh*t, Rosie O’Donnell is already a blogging legend.
ALSO: We’re not unaware of the brain-bending “meta-ness” of this post, so save it.
Lionel Richie is worried about a lot of things: he’s worried that Nicole could be the next Princess Di, he’s worried that Nicole might be anorexic, and he’s worried about the safety problems that come with dancing on the ceiling. One thing Lionel doesn’t have to worry about, though, is Nicole ever being considered a better singer than her old man. Here’s Nicole’s new song, “Dandelion”. It’s far from bad, but far from “Hello”. Lionel, you can sleep easy.