I'm back

I think it's time to dust off the old Juicy Celebrity Gossipz blog and do this.

Do this.

Some pretty epic stuff happened while I was on hiatus; Kate Middleton married Prince William, probably to steal his gold, Ryan Dunn died, Amy Winehouse died, that lady who killed her baby was pronounced "not guilty".

Truthfully, (and this is honest truth), I kind of got sidetracked during my trip to England to get close to the royal wedding, but it turns out that royal security is somewhat more competent than the guards in the movies. Kate Middleton's wedding dress was the subject of much speculation, but I had my suspicions what it would look like, which turned out to be correct: her dress was white. I can't even believe I didn't blog about that. I would be rich right now if I made that prediction, because my blog would become famous and I would get my own Celebrity Gossip Talk Show, or at least get on Conan.

Now, my opinion is pretty clear - Kate Middleton tricked Prince William into marrying he; a scumbag commoner off the filthy, soot-stained brick streets of England, in order that she might be able to learn the secret location of Prince William's gold, and then steal it and escape with it to South America. When this happens, don't say I didn't tell you so. Because I did, right there in fake ink, published forever in the glass-fragile servers of Google.com which could die at any second if a Chinese EMP explodes over their headquarters. Not that such a scenario would actually take place; but sometimes you think to yourself "Google is solid. They'll be around forever." and then one day, you wake up, turn on the news, it all crumbles to dust.

C'est la vie. It just makes me happy that I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm doing better than ever - in fact, this could be the best I've ever felt in my whole life - because I just came back from rock bottom, and now is the time for me to put my fist through the world's chest cavity and conquer it, right in the bum!

ENCYCLOPEDIADRAMATICA DEAD!?

Oh, lulz, what hath ye wrought?


Today, I was horrified when I tried to go the website known as Encyclopediadramatica.com, and was redirected to some random vomit-inducing version that wallows in the manure of political correctness. When did we come to the stipulation that being off-the-wall offensive and unreadable was no longer going to be supported? When did ED go from being absolutely decadent to absolutely decedent?

I wish I could produce a touching montage of all the moments ED and I shared throughout the years, because yes, while growing out my neckbeard and sitting in my mom's basement, growing jabba-like on hot pockets, in between bouts of completely unprovoked trolling on poor innocent souls, I would gander at the beautifully scripted and angelically poetic writings of all those who contributed to what can only be described as a "clusterfuck of wtf and stfu faggot", I laughed. I laughed at all the jokes. I, for one, was touched (inappropriately) by this now-deceased bastion of trolling goodness, and it brings a black emo tear down the side of my milk-white face. Even as I type these horrifically tragic words onto my world-famous blog that everyone reads, I am blasting Hawthorne Heights, and looking apathetically at my bleeding wrists, which I cut with a razor. It's the only way I can feel anything anymore.

From ED, I learned many things about myself. I learned that misanthropy can be hilarious. I learned that Long-Cat is really long. I learned that drawing pictures of half-snake half-human people who are part male and part female and then crying about how no one understands your artwork is nuts. I learned that by taking Computer Science III, I can shut down any website in the world whenever I want. I learned that Harry Potter and his friends are actually gothic kids who are constantly going to muggle concerts. Most importantly, I learned that reciting memes to people doesn't make you cool or funny. Only funniness is funny, and memeiness is akin to fagginess. Now, as brutal as that may sound, I want to be clear: I am not being homophobic by saying "fag". When I say "fag", I am always referring specifically to the English slang for a cigarette. So if I say, for example, "Stop being a fag", I mean "Stop being a cigarette". Confusing? Good. So be reciting memes in chatrooms/omegle, you are not being clever or funny. It is like smoking cigarettes all day, but instead of destorying* your lungs, you're destorying your SOUL.


*note: "destorying" is not a typo. Destorying refers to the act of destroying something so bad that you literally erase it from history, i.e., annihilating it's very story.

LimeWire sued for 75 Trillion dollars

A class-action lawsuit has been filed by several major record labels against Limewire.com, but it feels less like a lawsuit, and more like a really graphic gangbang, because they are suing for approximately 75 Trillion dollars, which is more than the amount of money in the entire world.

Do you really expect this to go through?

"Hell yeah." said a really smooth attorney working as a prosecutor in the case.

If successful, the debt will paid back approximately by 2,000,2011 A.D.

IT'S FRIDAY FRIDAY - A very meanie mean critique

It's friday. You know what that means! Time to power-trip on the internet!

As a high-powered ruthless soulless stalkerazzi with no remorse in my heart and no need for sleep or food, I am on a constant power trip. Once, while hiding in Tom Cruise's bushes, I was like "Damn, I'm good." so I don't need any extra power-tripping. If anything, I need medication to take it down a notch, because damn, I'm good. Other people, such as unnamed internet music producers, need to power-trip it up at everyone's expense.

However, the music video for Friday is trippin' like crazy, and also incidentally, is bad in every way humanly possible. Is it worse than genocide? Possibly. Genocide is really, really, really bad. Friday is only really, really bad with two "reallys". But does it deserve the criticism it receives by millions of outraged people/robots?

Yes.

There is theory "out there" which is that all publicity is good publicity. Well, let's put that to the test with this review.

On rating system of 1 to 10 stars, I give Friday a good solid -392,782,281,983,198,452,102,002.45, and I spit upon it with nastiest, snot-filled blob of spittle imaginable. If this were the movie industry, Friday would be the equivalent of Gigli, or perhaps even Plan 9 From Outer Space. It is rumored that Dick Cheney developed Ark Records as a method of torturing prisoners at Guantanamo Bay so that they will reveal the location of the 500 billion dollars in gold that Osama bin Laden hides in his beard. I suspect this is the case, because when I was chatting with Dick Cheney on AOL back in the day, one of his screen names was TrizzyGangsta13, and the Youtube Channel hosting the abomination known as Friday is Trizzy66. Coincidence!? OR SECRET ILLUMINATI PLOT?

I wish there was a way to take Friday, and turn it into some form of toilet paper, so I could wipe the shit off my ass with it and then watch as it spins down into the toilet never to be seen again except by the sewer-dwelling elite mutant turtle fighting force. But I know that this dream of mine is impossible, because you cannot make toilet paper out of shit. If you did that, you'd be wiping shit with more shit, and then everyone would just agree that it was a terrible invention.

I should clarify that Ark Records barely qualifies as a "record label", but for all intents and purposes, I will to refer to it as such. Also, if any of the girls involved in the production read this by some bizarre twist of fate, I just want to say that you made a very poor life decision, but I hope that you can move on and become stronger as people or something. What I mean is, this isn't like smoking weed in high school; this is like smoking crack in high school. I hope this analogy provides you with some perspective on how poor the decision to be involved in this project was.

Now, some of the other critiques of Friday have been fairly brutal, so I'm going to tone mine down and keep it sweet and simple. First of all, I do not wish any of the grizzly fates some incredibly insensitive people have suggested befall Ms. Black, but maybe like, maybe she could get stung by large number of bees or something. I, of course, would not release the bees personally, and would never involve myself in anything involving bees. Then again, I'd rather work with bees for the rest of my life rather than be even a lowly stage-hand in the production of Friday.

Rebecca Black's voice is horrendous, and sounds like a room full of people singing "Happy Birthday" out of tune. Her voice is the reason Simon Cowell quit American Idol. Her voice is the reason Christina Aguilera will quit NBC's The Voice. Her voice is the reason for the recent Tsunami/Earthquake/Nuclear disaster in Japan. I can barely believe that's her actual voice. I'm almost positive the original track was sung by a choir of mentally handicapped people, and she merely lip-synched over it.

The song itself was written by a 3-year-old girl with a red crayon on a piece of yellow construction paper. Then it was slapped down on the wooden crate Trizzy uses for a desk in what can be described as a "barely functional office space" and he was all like "This shit is genius! Let me just bust a rhyme on this track and it'll go platinum!" and then they did some elaborate handshake.

Then they spammed the shit out of the internet. Oh boy, did they ever spam. OH, don't worry that everyone thinks the video is a flaming pile of dung that will be the end of civilization itself, at least you got almost 60 million views (so far), and that's all that matters, right? 60 million is such a big number. And you earned it. So pop some bubbly and give the middle finger to all the haters, because hot damn, that number is big. You did it. You got the big number.

Rage Against Charlie Sheen

Yes.

February was a boring and heavily-medicated month for me, but this month has been blowing up with headlines about one man: Charlie effing Sheen. For an intense celebrity-obsessed blogger like myself, I could not physically bring my fingers to resist the urge to type a post about Chuckie Sheen's wild antics, and BLOW THEM WILDLY OUT OF PROPORTION.

First of all, I get Charlie Sheen. He's just like me, except much older, has been in movies, lives on the other side of the country, is a different person, is much richer, owns a car, etc., but we're basically the same. I know what's going on in that brain of his. I see through that paper-thin facade. It's pretty obvious to me that Charlie Sheen -- and I am going on the official record as saying this shit -- is doing drugs again.

Is that slander? I don't know. We'll let our high-powered Jewish Lawyerbots battle it out in the streets of Tokyo to figure it out. Meanwhile, I'm just going to throw that out there, cuz it's ma opinion and I'm usually never wrong. This one time, a girl told me she knew Clay Aiken was straight, and I was like "Uh, no, he's gay." and look who's laughing all the way to the gay bank now? Me.

Now look, I know a lot of people are fanz of Charlie Sheen. He has a certain... uh... sheen... to him, and he was on the hilarious-for-awhile-then-gag-inducingly-repetitive hit show Two and a Half Men, starring Charlie Sheen as himself almost literally. All he had to do to get into character was show up at the studio and drink a glass of Jack Daniels, and -bam-, Charlie Sheen was ready to get on stage. Due to his personal life being an out of control party of hookers and cocaine (my opinion), he was promptly fired by Donald Trump from the show. Personally, I blame the economy for this layoff, and more importantly, I blame Obama. Damn you, Obama! You spent 800 billion dollars to bail out banks that got us into this mess, but didn't spend one cent to bail out Charlie Sheen. Why? America deserves answers, answers we're not getting, unless we go to protest outside the Black House (Formerly known as the White House) and PROTEST OUR ASSES OFF.

Who can possibly fill the gaping hole that is Charlie Sheen on Two and a Half Men? Here's my opinion. No one. Only Charlie Sheen can show up to work and act in a role which is himself. Rob Lowe cannot show up to the set and be Charlie Sheen. That doesn't work, unless this an alternate dimension that we've stepped over into by warping time and space through a quantum experiment gone horribly wrong, which it's not! Just let the show die. The jokes have all been done to death, and while they were all funny and hilarious at first, IT'S OVER. LET IT GO, CBS, OR WHICHEVER NETWORK OWNS THAT SHOW. IT'S OVER. CAPS.

I AIN'T GONNA WORK FOR MAGGIE'S FARM NO MORE

I'm sick of working on Maggie's farm. It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.

SO I QUIT.

What a month...

It's been quite a rough month for me personally, but also as a professional stalkerazzi. The amount of juicy celeb info I've been able to obtain has been greatly reduced by my frequent doctor visits, and taking medications, then switching medications, then changing the medication dosages.

Like, dang.

The Hot Girl of the Week is becoming more like "Hot Girl of the Month", and to be honest, if I did it weekly, I'd probably run out really fast, and then end up having to feature Jennifer Aniston or someone that everyone is sick of.

Yes, I'm thrilled with Jennifer Aniston's amazing weight loss, but c'mon. C'mon. Friends was canceled years ago. She divorced Brad Pitt years ago. What does she have left? NOTHING. NOTHING, I SAY. It's OVER, Aniston!! YOU HEAR ME, OVARRRRRR.

On a side note, I wanna just, like, say that I think, like, it was like totally wrong and uncool of Brad to leave Jennifer for Angelina. I mean, c'mon. C'mon. The thing about Angelina Jolie, is, to be honest, she looks kind of weird, like she's part reptilian. Now, I know it's possible that the Reptilians are scouting out planet Earth for when Tiamat (aka Niburu is coming aka Planet X) crosses paths with Earth in 2012, leading to an all-out interstellar conflict that will end all of humanity. I'm fairly sure Brad is aware of this information, however, for reasons unknown to us, has chosen to ignore it. Perhaps he believes that if he finds favor with the Lizard-beings, that they will have mercy and spare him instead of sending him to their death factories to be ground into a hamburger-like food substance. This, of course, is folly. And that, my friends, is why Brad was totally wrong to leave Jen.

Diet Oatmeal

...tastes exactly like shit.

If you're on a diet, you're forced to eat horrible food. As you may know, Hollywood Actresses never diet. Their method of preparation for movie roles involves a personal trainer feeling them up as they lift tiny weights, and a weak gag reflex. Only lowly non-celebrities attempt to diet, and it fails exactly 100% of the time, and that's a scientific fact, like how toast always falls jelly-side down.

Some of the horrible food used on diets are: Grapefruits (ew), Celery (gag), Yogurt (disgusting), Soy (Garbage), Sugar-Free Gum (fuqqin nazztii), and of course, more low-fat low sugar foods.

So, okay, I wanted to eat some oatmeal, but there was none, but there was diet oatmeal. I always keep some diet oatmeal on the shelf in case I run out of cat litter, and the cat needs something to crap into. Today, I made the ghastly error of deciding to try it out.

On a scale from 1 to 10, with 10 being delicious, and 1 being vomit-inducing, it was around -3. It is rumored that David Carradine killed himself because he had some diet oatmeal. Diet oatmeal is what America tortures terrorists with, and is rumored to have been developed by Dick Cheney himself. This stuff is absolute crap in terms of flavor. If diet oatmeal was a person auditioning for American Idol, Simon would quit, and in fact, that's why he DID quit. More people hate diet oatmeal than Justin Bieber and Andy Dick's mutant asshole hate-child (I would call it a love-child, but that just seemed wrong). If diet oatmeal went to high school, he would be shoved in the lockers by the teachers and the principle, and when he turns in his term paper, it would break the school grading system, and they would have to invent a new letter lower than F, possibly G. After this, the teacher would be all "Get out of my classroom." and pull out a shotgun, and diet oatmeal would run out the door crying but would fart with every step. Then he would get home, and his father would beat him without mercy after seeing diet oatmeal's grades, that is, if diet oatmeal's father hadn't committed suicide from the disgrace of having such a failure of a son that turned all his drinking/poker buddies against him. Diet oatmeal's mother, of course, would be knitting a sweater for her son that reads "I suck", because diet oatmeal has a face that even his own mother thought was so hideous that it convinced her to sell her most valuable and dearest possessions to scrape up enough money to get surgery to get her tubes tied and take out her ovaries and place them in a vault that was dropped into an active volcano in the Pacific Ocean, which caused the volcano to erupt so violently that it created a brand-new continent.

Verdict: Guilty of killing Nicole

Reggio's Frozen Pizzas have finally fallen as the king of terrible nasty food.

Hey, whatever happened to Paris Hilton?

Hey, remember Paris Hilton?

















No Official Certified Profession Celebrity Gossip Blog would be complete without Paris Hilton. It would be like breakfast without bacon. It would be like be like Geraldo Rivera without a mustache. It would be like Paris Hilton without a penis in her vagina. Unfortunately for myself, and everyone else, Paris Hilton has been quieter than a church mouse, and you all know how quiet mice are when they're breaking into a church to eat that stale bread before it can transmogrify into the body of Christ. Those bastards.

Paris Hilton first made her first cerebral scars onto the cranium of America in 2003, with her hit reality-series The Simple Life, which chronicled her heart-warming journey of self-discovery on a rural farm along with sidekick Nicole "Holocaust Victim" Richie, torn from the luxurious glamour of their normal lives. However, instead of learning about simple living, the duo learned nothing, which seems to be a recurring theme.

The fame bestowed on them caused them to be on the cover of every magazine, even the sciencey ones. It seemed like they had it all: Fame, Fortune, Bliss (caused by ignorance), and apparently, night-vision cameras. But out of the blue, they vanished from the headlines.

Leaving an empty hole in my heart...


As a matter of fact...
















Hey, whatever happened to Tara Reid?

Last time I heard, she had a bit of a nipple slip during a red carpet event, where it took her several hours before she realized her boob was showing. The boob flash made one thing very clear: she got plastic surgery done by the same doctor who created The Human Centipede. Upon further photo analysis, she had other operations that seriousssss screwed up her body.

This is tragic. Tara Reid, while not being particularly bright, is very pretty, and she's RUINING it. I'd almost rather see Larry King naked, but OH WAIT, I already have! DAMN YOU, JON STEWART!

Still, Tara Reid's botched boobs/stomach are nothing compared to Paris Hilton's bizarre-looking other-worldly purple vagina. A normal, healthy vagina is surrounded by a beautiful soft pink/peach. Paris Hilton's vagina, however, is surrounded by dark purple flaps of skin that would flop around if there was a breeze blowing. It's like what would happen if you took the black gums in the mouths of dogs and used that tissue to make a vulva.

In short, it's an abomination to humanity.

Also, in even shorter, where are these girls? We need them to return, for the sake of all that is good and right in this world.

Penguins

You're welcome.