Archive for the ‘Naughty naughty!’ Category
Well we had the world’s first pregnant man, so it was only a matter of time before we had the world’s first impregnating woman… it’s just been revealed everyone’s favourite lesbian JustinE Bieber is the subject of a lawsuit where a 20 year-old woman is claiming he fathered her 3 month-old baby.
Now if the thought of that little squirt procreating doesn’t have you reaching for your office bin to be sick, her account of their ‘brief’ encounter will help you on your way to parting with your lunch.
‘Immediately, it was obvious that we were mutually attracted to one another, and we began to kiss. Shortly thereafter, Justin Bieber suggested that I go with him to a private place where we could be alone.
‘I agreed to go with him and on the walk to a private area, he told me he wanted to make love to me and this was going to be his first time.
He then told her he wanted to ‘fuck the shit’ out her. Which sounds like a verbal copy and paste from creepy pornos favoured by sleazy teenage boys with crusty spots and even crustier socks (sounds about right, he just has the money to bin the sock after use and a good dermatologist). He also refused to wear a condom, which is how you know if someone really loves you. Especially if you’ve just met them, that means it’s love at first sight!
Possibly the worst part of this sordid episode is the fact that last October, when the alleged incident took place, J-Biebz was only 16, which in the state of California makes him underage, and as the woman was 19, she would be guilty of statutory rape. Imagine being the woman in jail for raping Justin Bieber? In saying that, they don’t tend to have many 9-13 year-olds in jail, so it’s unlikely anyone would give a french fancy.
OH, and you think I was trying to be funny when I said ‘brief’ encounter? Her sworn statement (like the one she is willing to go to jail for if she’s lying) said the whole caboodle lasted 30 seconds. Which sounds fair, I think I would only last around 30 seconds with Justin Bieber panting and sobbing like a little girl before I called it quits.
Justin had this to say this morning on twitter: ‘all the rumors…the gossip….Im gonna focus on the positives….the music.”
A pop star with a penchant for unsafe sex with promiscuous psychopaths? I say give it 6-8 weeks and he may have another positive to focus on.
So I get adulterous sexting, don’t do it, but I get it. Private text messages sent from one phone to another. You even get an app called Tiger Text, a nod to Tiger Woods’ many mistakes, where messages will erase themselves from the recipient and senders phone with in a specified time scale -
‘this sext will self destruct in 5…4…3…2…1′
But why did Jason Manford decide to demand sexy pics and swap flirty messages with one ‘lady’ on Twitter? It’s hardly the most private of social networking sites.
Well, that was my story originally. But then I got a Twitter crash course and realised there is such a thing as a private message. Jason Manford: 1, Sugarfreebitch: 0.
UNTIL… I googled the original story. The girl, Debra McNamee (which sounds like some daydreaming sub-editor nipped out for a cig just as they were going to press and didn’t have the heart to tell everyone ‘McNamee’ is a totally stupid made up name) sold her story to the Sun.
The ‘busty’ and ‘curvy’ lass – which, when not talking about Holly Willoughby or Kim Kardashian is really just a tabloid’s way of saying you aren’t shy of a pie or a pint of dry – is sight for sore eyes. A sight for botched Lasik with a vinegar chaser even.
Don’t believe me?
Now, I’ve never seen his missus, but I think Adrian Chiles in a Lily-Savage-on-a-comedown costume is more sexually attractive.
In a completely UNRELATED turn of events, Peeedar has been mouthing off about his sex life, mere hours before his new single was released.
His new song Defender seems to be getting a good reception – well, I say that, most gossip blogs are saying that they don’t hate it, which is a major coup for the Aussie singer. And whether you are Team Pete or Team Katie, you can’t deny it is better than Mrs Reid’s recent effort Free To Love Again, which is straight out a drag cabaret from the depths of hell.
But did we really need to know that he had been down under in down under with a woman called Angela Mogridge, who worked with the former-couple when they appeared on I’m a Celebrity in a Sunday tabloid this week?
I find it REALLY hard to digest his ‘keeping-my-dignity-for-the-sake-of-my kids-holier-than-thou-and-by-thou-I-mean-you-Katie-Price-you-heathen’ act, especially when you look at the equation ‘single x publicity ÷ waning interest in constant assaults on the charts = start talking about Little Pete’s adventures?’
Nice try Pete
After the ever-normal Lady Gaga dropped the massive video for Alejandro (y’know- the 8 minute slutty-Nun extravaganza?) who else but Katy Perry, noted religious activist, took to Twitter with a thinly-veiled dig at her more successful/credible rival: ‘Using blasphemy as entertainment is as cheap as a comedian telling a fart joke’.
So how mad must she have been when fiance Russell Brand went on Nick Cannon’s (aka Mariah’s pet/handbag carrier/facilitator) radio show to discuss her flatulence? (‘the pop hits that she fires out of her mouth are nothing compared to what comes out the other end of her’. Lovely Russ, just lovely) Cue first little nugget of hypocrisy.
Second hypocrisy-copter comes straight from the horse’s mouth. In this month’s Rolling Stone (where she graces the cover in her undies), she sticks her spirit stick straight into the issue again: ‘I think when you put sex and spirituality in the same bottle and shake it up, bad things happen’.
Pictured above is one of the shots from that feature. Em…Katy….I like your necklace. Who’s it by?….Haus of Jesus? Did she not realise that in the same spread she critisised Lady Gaga for her crucafix antics she was going to all done up like a dog’s dinner sandwiching the very item she took issue with in between her admittedly-pretty impressive mammaries? Is she really that dense? Where in the Bible does it say ‘and on the seventh day thou shalt kiss a girl, and thou shalt like it’? Oh. wait…. nowhere.
I didn’t even have time to post that Lindsay Lohan had gone to jail before she was softly handed over to the men in white coats. Her 90 day sentence, of which she served 14, is now the only thing in her timeline shorter than her stint as a lesbian.
She’s now in a rehab and psychiatric facility, and hopefully not the normal celebrity ones where you are taught to blame your mother/father/upbringing/ religion/assistant/dealer/Krispy Kreme/Sesame Street and anyone else you can think of so you don’t have to admit you have been…well a little bit naughty.
I think as far as comebacks go she really needs to find her marbles and hold on to those babies for dear life, I mean prescription drugs are a little bit 2009 non? 2010 is the year of malaria darling, now Cheryl’s done it I hear designer mosquito bites are THE only accessory for the summer.
So the whole Mel Gibson thing is pretty horrific. A ranting, profanity-happy, racist drunk. Earth to Mel- Braveheart was fifteen years ago sweetie, you can’t call it Scots method acting.
I made the mistake of listening to the now-famous tapes released by his baby-mama Oksana Grigorieva in the middle of the night, home alone. Now I have an irrational fear of 90s global megastars. I burst into tears when I see Nicolas Cage, and don’t even get me started on Bruce Willis. I can’t even go in a lift with a man in a white tank top.
So, if you have been in boot camp with Kerry Katona and haven’t had internet access, a safe route into the horrible ravings of a complete mad-man can be observed on Buzzfeed, using photos of kittens accompanying some of the more salacious gems:
I guess most people probably would need a few drinks if they lost their first love to a certain pint-sized Scientologist with a penchant for jumping on Ikea’s finest.
Chris Klein of American Pie fame (?) has entered rehab after his rep admitted he had an alcohol problem. The smiley-star has clocked up two drink-driving charges in six years – which I have to admit is pretty tame by the high standards for debauchery in H’wood. If he had been caught drink-driving while snorting a line of oxycontin off Lindsay Lohan’s belly while shouting anti-semitic comments then we could maybe get our shock on.
Come on Chris, go really tits- swing round Casa Cruise and jump all over their furnishings, burn all the stacked loafers, piss on the Scientology books. Just leave Suri’s wardrobe be!
The beautiful and damned Jonathan Rhys Meyers has been banned from flying with United Airlines in the US, after one too many 7am vodka/cokes on a flight to LA.
This is the THIRD incident of a drunken-departure-lounge flavour in as many years for the actor (yeah, I guess he is one of those once, twice, three times an arsehole types).
Allegedly (see, law revision was so worth it; no lawsuits for me!), he also dropped what our transatlantic cousins call the N-Bomb during the tantrum when he was told he wouldn’t be taking to the skies.The rehabalicious star clearly attended the Naomi Campbell School of Aviation Relations.
I mean, with Colin Farrell doing Mermaid films and firmly strapped into the wagon there isn’t really much competition? He could have just had a pina colada and told staff they were ‘big smelly losers’ and still have retained the Irish Bad Boy title.
Fix up, look sharp J.R.M.
The Geldof household must have all the vim and vigour of a Boomtown Rats reunion gig this week after Peaches’ nekkid pictures have been passed around quicker than her last joint. The sloppily-captured pics showed just how talented the photoshoppers at Ultimo lingerie really are because that advertising campaign look as much like the real Peaches as Tiger Woods does. One thing I do know is she was NOT taking heroin that night. And why do I know this? Because Eli Roth (her Mr Right-now) took to his Myspace blog to defend her.
WTF! You are the hugely famous Eli Roth- screenwriter and movie star! (although Peaches’ ‘squint and gurn for the camera’ efforts look like something out 28 Days Later so I guess that’s what gets him off). You are not her latest skinny jeans wearing/guyliner loving/premature ejaculating indie boy, get a grip! In an open letter to the mother of boy who sold the pictures, he airs all their dirty laundry, calls her a bad mother and generally slams the whole situation.
Peaches- you are NOT helping the ‘daddy issues’ argument by getting your much-older boyfriend (his 37 to her 21) to tell on one of your snap-happy one night stands TO HIS MOTHER.
What’s that? You want to see the pictures? WARNING- these pics may cause body confidence (I certainly felt pretty damn good after viewing them).
Yet another week, another adulterous prat has been exposed. Mark Owen, formerly the nicest man in pop music, has kiss & told on himself?! He was all up in the front cover of the Sun this week, admitting to being your garden-variety cheating rat. I utterly refuse to buy into any of these ‘addict’ cards that famous men are playing more than their wives. ‘I’m a sex addict’, ‘I’m a drunk’. Addiction is a serious disease, however when people like Mark Owen cheat on their partners upwards of ten times – only admitting it when they are caught – can it be a legitimate excuse? Since when did the Sun/Star become a major interventionary device?
These men only care about their image. A well-timed trip to rehab is a publicist’s way of performing CPR to their career. They slink off to facilities where they are taught that it is not because they are bad people, but a biological flaw that has caused them to devastate their wives. Bull. Shit.
As you can tell, it’s not an issue that’s going to give me back pain from sitting on the fence.