Showing posts with label Gross. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gross. Show all posts

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The "I Can't" News Of The Week: Justin Bieber Hooked Up With MF-ing ADRIANA LIMA

Remember when Biebs posted this picture of himself with Adriana Lima on his Instagram account about a week ago? No? I'm the only one here that follows him? Great, another black mark on my effed up life. Anyway, US Weekly is claiming that after these two alley cats were partying it up and taking raised-eyebrow selfies in Cannes at some nightclub called Gotha (sounds annoying), they ended up leaving together at 5 am.

I'm taking this all with a big ass grain of salt. This beautiful creature probably didn't even do dirt stuff with JB. It was early morning, so he probably just needed her to put the straw in his breakfast time Capri Sun. That shit's hard to do. This is a 32 year old mother of two, and he's a 24 months old. That's the only thing that makes sense in this world.

Because there's no way that a grown ass Victoria's Secret model is having sexual times with a guy wearing a sunglasses/training mustache combo in a club. Right? In her defense, he was probably wearing those faux denim pull-up diapers so he looked like he might almost be an adult.

I know that you thought that this was a picture of Leo DiCaprio, but it's just a baby. You can see how it's a simple mistake.

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Thursday, January 30, 2014

GUUUUUURL Of The Day: Trojan Condoms' Commercial Is Letting Us Know That Old People Are Doing It

Haven't felt like you wanted to vomit nearly enough today? This should solve that.

Well, my uterus just shriveled up and died like a Craisin, so there's that. My brain knows, deep in its recesses, that oldies occasionally get freaky. But, my eyeballs and ear holes don't need that data.

via realitytvgifs
Thanks, Trojan. I'm barren.

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Friday, September 20, 2013

My "I'm Just Not That Into You" Celebrity Moments of the Week

Listen, I know that I hate just about everything, but there was a hell of a lot of sh*tty nonsense going on this week.

YOU GUYS. JT and JB showed up to premiere of that terrible looking Timberlake/Affleck movie wearing matching suits. I'm pretty sure that Biel is Single White Female-ing JT and Benadryled him into wearing this mess. I mean look at those hazy ass eyes. Something ain't right. I need to see receipts!

Ready for the ultimate day ruiner? Baby Biebs is now a shirtless/tie-dyed tank dress wearing rapper. I really can't even with this b*tch anymore. I don't want to hear any song that involves penises and Bieber-related things, like, ever.

 The likelihood that I might vomit is currently strong to quite strong.

Speaking of vomitous information you can't use, here is the state of Gwyneth Paltrow's pubic area.


And speaking of Gwynnie, when the f*ck did Brad Pitt turn into Robert Redford?

I mean, Robert Redford is hot and everything, but Jesus take the wheel -- I'm not ready for that jelly. That means all of our asses are old.

And in my favorite news of the week:

via daily mail
C Stodd got turnt the eff up so much that she broke off the control knob. Bruises be damned and everything.

Homegirl got crunk as hell in London the other night, and I strongly suggest that you check out all the pics over at The Daily Mail.

Happy weekend, if you get one of those. Celebrities, carry on with the grossery. I can't wait.

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Thursday, September 12, 2013

Great. I'm the Effing Worst, Part 308430984: Justin Bieber Mustache Edition

You b*tches know there are very few things that I hold closer to my heart than hating on Biebs. (Basically, just koalas, unicorns, bacon, and wine.) SO THAT'S WHY I HATE MYSELF. I really, really, really wanted to make fun of Justin Bieber's non-stache today, as seen here:

via huffpo
We can all hash out that shower curtain liner-embellished, brought to you by the letter "Y" shirt at a later date, because here's another picture of the offensive three hairs:

via jb's instagram
And here:

bieb's i.g. again
I mean what IS that??? I had so, so many Kip jokes to make, you guys.

Like, a lot.

And the worst thing, ever, happened.

yep, still stalking the instagram

I hate everything.

I need to pet baby stray kittens (after vaccinations) and drink (more) wine.

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Monday, September 2, 2013

And In "Holy F*ck, I Feel Old" News, Spencer Pratt JUST TURNED 30.

via buzzfeed
YOU GUYS, HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE THAT SPENCER IS JUST NOW 30 YEARS OLD? HOOOOWWWW? I feel like The Hills was on MTV roughly 2 trillion years ago. Is time somehow going by really and and really effing slow at the same time? Is this an episode of Quantum Leap???

Oh, by the by, Spencer, just because you're now 30 doesn't mean you have to stock up on shirts from the Men's Warehouse Two and a Half Men collection. You're thirty, not disgusting.

 Oh, yeah...
via mrhankey
We're still not that into you.

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Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Demi Moore's Boyfriend Has a Pearl Ween.

And I'm not talking about tampons, here, people. This surprised-caveman-looking homeboy is apparently Demi Moore's boyfriend, Will Hanigan. It is not a remake of Brendan Frasier's Caveman, sadly. This is real life.

According to the NY Daily News, dude has a pearl in his wee wee parts because he's a pearl diver, or something:

“He had a pearl inserted in his penis when he was in his late teens,” said a source. “It is pearl farming tradition and he would always joke about it in Australia. He’d boast it’d give girls extra stimulation in the bedroom.”

Can I be real for a minute? I don't even know what the eff that means. I first thought they meant in the hole, but that doesn't even make sense. So like a piercing thing? Who wants to have a weiner o'pearls?

Yep. Totally this dude. I think I can see his pearl in this picture. 

 Not today, pearl pants, not today.

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Saturday, February 2, 2013

Why Not Start Your Saturday Off With Some Delightful Music Stylings? (AKA The Worst Music Video Ever.)

This video was dubbed on YouTube as "the worst music video ever." After watching it roughly seven times, it has kind of become my anthem. It's like the modern day version of Aretha Franklin's "Respect," or something. And lucky for you, I have transcribed the happenings of the entire 4:18 of this diamond in the rough. YOU ARE WELCOME, world.

The first 30 seconds of this mess looks like an opening for a really, really, sh*tty Chicago-based soap opera. Then we see our heroine, looking most reminiscent of a younger, blonder, George Costanza's mother. In the next shot, we really get to see what homegirl is working with, and let me clue you in, sister, those pants are atrocious. It's like FUPAs were breeding with more FUPAs up in there. If it were legal to burn whatever material that makes up those pants, I would highly suggest it. After ANOTHER long shot of the Chicago skyline, our eyes can feast upon the romantic lead of the story. Now, we KNOW that he's a bad boy, because not only is he leather-clad and mulleted, but HE PARKS HIS MOTORCYCLE IN A "NO PARKING" AREA. Swoon city, party of one! Amiright?!? It's time of a little backstory -- we get a vignette of them walking together in matching outfits, with matching, puffy ass hair, and waving to pretend friends (adoring fans?), then riding off into the sunset late morning. Next we're back to the FUPA pants shot, with a possible Delorean sighting in the background, and we get a close up of the stone wall behind Darla (I don't know her name, but it fits). Oh, sike! Darla's back, and her face is more scrunched up than ever. Then we get: road warrior, more scenery filmed from a car window, and a payphone shot, complete with sexy leather gloves! Oh, Darla, it's "anymore" not "no more." Now fancy camera work. Uh oh? What do we have here? Darla's at the airport in her fancy ass limo? Why didn't the driver even carry her bags? And there she goes (we are supposed to assume), flying off to another exotic location. Where do you think she went? My guess is to Dubai to marry a super glamorous Sheik.

P.S. I just saw that Darla's name is really Jan. I'm going to suggest that you go ahead and change that, Jan. It's Darla, now.

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Sunday, January 27, 2013

Sh*t Guys Should Never Wear

I'm glad I'm not a dude, you guys. You're so limited on your attractiveness level. You can't wear dresses or skirts, can't do too much with your hair, and can't wear makeup without b's judging the sh*t out of you. And guess what, dude-types? I'm about to limit your crap even more, because I have compiled a list of stuff that guys should never, ever wear. (Or just not around my ass.)

Cargo Shorts

 Who needs two huge ass pockets attached to their person all the time? What the eff are you carrying around? The entire set of Encyclopedia Britannicas? The Encyclopedia Britannica guy???

I wish that were the case. I picked this specific picture of cargo shorts for a reason. I hate the socks, too. The leg flesh to cloth ratio is waaaay off. I can't handle it. It's gross.


I can't reiterate this fact enough. TURTLENECKS ARE EFFING HORRID. Don't wear them.


What the hell kind of tom foolery is this?!? A man's feet are pretty unattractive anyway, but I really don't need to see dem b*tches highlighted in this fashion. I can deal with a flip flop here and there, but this is just show pony-ing some grossness. You're a step away from wearing a clear jelly shoe, sir. No friggin' thanks.


I know that this is beating a dead horse, but jean shorts are the Devil's denim mistress for guys. The only thing worse are denim capri pants. I can only hope that they all simultaneously combust somehow. And can we please note the dude in the above photo's shirt? What is that? A baby tee?

Insane Jewelry

I might be in the minority here, but I am not a fan of dude jewelry (dudewelry???). There's something super skeevy about it to me. Like I'm in danger of being sold into an Eastern European sex trade, or something. Especially a lot of rings, not going there...

via nbcparksandrec tumblr
Did I miss any other grossness, ladies? Let's gross each other out.

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Wednesday, January 9, 2013

I Must Say Something Quite Rude. (Shocker, I Know.)

via buzzfeed
I think I want to punch Sean Penn. Here he is with Emma Stone at the premiere for Gangster Squad (which I'm dying to see, by the mutha effin' way), looking ummmm, skeevy. And kind of dick-ish, if I do say so myself. When your skin texture is identical to Hulk Hogan's, it's time to do some deeeeep moisturizing and maybe get a facial, or something. Oh, and thanks for getting all dressed up for YOUR OWN MOVIE PREMIERE. Is that a cold day on the prison yard jacket? Nice.

Any of these outfits would be much preferred. I'm wearing the top of the triangle's today.

P.S. Your facial hair looks live a cartoon Devil's. That is all.

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Monday, December 31, 2012

File This Under: Sh*t I Hope Not to See in the New Year

I am not shy about my confusion over Justin Bieber. I just don't understand -- but sometimes parents just don't understand. (I am at least of parental age, people. I should just accept that ish. Oh, and this is of note about that link I posted -- DJ JAZZY JEFF HAS A MOTHER EFFING VEVO. WHAT IS HAPPENING???) But for some reason, mostly my complete hatred of myself, I follow Biebs on the ol' instagram. And lemme tell you a little something; I can't handle seeing any more Bieber nipple. Not because it's giving me the Bieber fever. Oh no, it is quite the opposite.

via JB's instagram
First came this shot, which is bad enough. It brought the slight quease. I don't want to see you, Bieber, in all of your baby tattooed/baby abdominaled glory. And that face? No. But the insanity didn't stop there. Oh, no.

duh, via baby bieb's insta again
WHAT THE HOLY EFF??? I do apologize for the inconvenience of only being able to see 1.2 Bieber nipple. Oh, wait. No, I don't. This is just entirely too much. I feel straight ILLEGAL AS F*CK at this point. And obviously everyone else did too, because he deleted this mess. I see you, Justin Marie Bieber (it just fits), I see you. You will not become a sex symbol. You will have to pull the laptop from my cold, dead hands.

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Saturday, December 29, 2012

I Think Kanye West Wants Us to Put the Lotion on Its Skin.

pics via buzzfeed, via some instagram
I'm all for edgy. And dudes wearing skirts. And doing whatever the eff you feel like. Unless you look scary, which I feel like this is creepin' straight up in the latter category. (Truth bomb: I just had to re-edit the first two sentences roughly three times, because I've had some wine.) This is some Legends of Ga'Hoole meets Silence to the Lambs type sh*t.

It's friggin' weird, and I don't like it. Imagine what the inside of that mask must smell like. It's a feathery, owl mullet. Bleeeeeeeh.

via mrhankey
Okay, I have to go now, before my sh*t get out of hand.

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Monday, December 17, 2012

Blogging Note, with a Helping of This Looks Disgusting.

I'm having some womanly issues today, so if my posting is spotty (har har) you'll understand why. And maybe my "condition" (Why do I feel like I'm a 1930's doctor right now? These broads and their hysterics!) is making me feel extra grossed out right now, but I kept seeing this sh*t on Facebook, as a sponsored post, and it was straight up making my ass sick.

via bob evans
Have you guys seen this? It's recipes using Bob Evans' refrigerated mashed potatoes. Most of them looked pretty insane, but this one took the proverbial gross cake. This is the Clubhouse Mashtini, featuring things like: ham, turkey, pickles, and ranch dressing. That sounds nothing short of vomitous to my delicate constitution. 

Not today, Bob Evans. Not today.

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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Annnnd THIS is Why I Can't Deal With Holiday Foolery.

What the hell did I just watch? Why did this have to be filmed two hours from my house? What is happening with Travolta's hair helmet? Does he understand that 50 somethings (or anyone, really) shouldn't be wearing and utilizing chain wallets? Did the soldier guy even know the cop? What grade school Audio/Visual Club shot this video? Should someone tell those children to omit this tragedy from their resume? Since when is doing a jazz square repeatedly considered dancing?

I could ask these questions all damn day.

via logotv

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Thursday, November 8, 2012

What in Eff's Sake ARE THESE THINGS?

via buzzfeed
As the late, great Whitney Houston would say, "Oh hell to the naw!" This is just atrocious. And needless. What are you putting in those pockets, boo? A mini notebook in the back pocket? A piece of gum in that tiny inner pocket? These are truly the devil's jean/boot/flip flop hybrid.

Let's wash our brains with some Kaitlin.

I wanna be GLAMOROUS!

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Friday, October 5, 2012

Pictures to Peruse While Listening to Jock Jams

Ugh. Remember this disgustingness?

That's a badass b rollin' deep right there.

Oh, No Fear shirts. Never have charm and trash collided in such a way.

Does this even need a caption?

I had this exact crimper. Y'all ready for this?

I had these shoes, too. Flawless. Thanks, Spice Girls.

Get that Guts agrocrag, honey.

Please tell me you guys remember Pumps. Why the eff do we need air to tighten the shoes, again???

Okay, so you should probably listen to grunge for this, but tell me you don't want that earring.

Seriously, why?

Who loves sweaty feet with dirt particles stuck to them?

I once cried because of this show. I was 15.
This is way after Jock Jams, but exactly WHAT THE EFF IS THIS?

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