Kim Kardashian may have covered up her gut full of Kanye West baby but her fingers were still firmed pressed to her iPhone Instagram app. While some were busy stuffing theior faces with tacos and margaritas as a post Cinco de Mayo celebration others were attending the Met Gala in NYC. Kim K. made sure to snap a photo or two with A-Listers that normally wouldn’t come need her with a ten foot pole covered in a hazmat suit.
Kate Moss has certainly seen better days. Yet straight men would still flock to her feet to get a chance to “hit this.” Looks like Kate has already been hit, in the face with a shovel and left for dead. She isn’t the only one with a face that looks like 40 miles of bad road. Take a look below. Enjoy feeling better about yourself, #UrWelcome.
Music really does make the people come together, even if it is Williamsburg. Brooklyn, not colonial. Spotted with children in tow is the material girl herself, Madonna, attending the birthday party of one of her dancers at Antica Pesa Brooklyn. The material mama was even treated to an impromptu show when the dancers moved the tables and burned up the floor. And who else was there you may ask? Only Tom Hardy, just another night in our lovely city. Sounds like that night was a great night.
The social world in New York City is very small and limiting. Although there are over 10 Million people stacked in our little metropolis it’s amazing how we can find ourselves stuck in the same routine, doing the same thing with the same people constantly. As I surveyed the scene recently at a local bar with my friends, I realized we were no better, shocking I know. Is it really that hard to meet new people in New York City or are we simply being snubbed? I couldn’t help but wonder….
I always likened the gay social scene to that of a seventh grade dance. The punch, you’re nervous, anxious and then you’re asked to dance. However with the gays the punch is a vodka soda, you’re more drunk than nervous or anxious and usually when asked if you want to dance it’s code for let’s go have sex in the coat check while other people watch. As usual I was with my posse and after a quick bite at a trendy yet sub par Arriba Arriba, it was time to start our pilgrimage to every bar in the area to drink our weight in booze. The places in Hell’s Kitchen are anything but classy, cool and contemporary like the neighborhood boasts, but right now it’s the place to be seen and heard and boy did we hear the queens. On the corner of right now and everybody was there we stopped into the bar Posh for a quick bucket of booze to get the night started. Luckily the bartenders happen to be the nicest and cutest in the area, a combustible yet titillating combination. As I talked with my friends and caught up, I kept one eye on them, the other firmly on the crowd as I surveyed the room, noticing any familiar, cute faces.
Having never been a staple at a bar I did see the perks. There is always someone who will take your bag and jacket for free and hide them away from the gin soaked patrons, they always keep one bathroom open for you, sometimes a girl needs to get her freak on in an unsanitary, trashy way, and if you are messed with the offensive party is removed faster than a wrinkle with botox. Being in the center of the universe you are bound to run into people, love, loathe or hate and tonight was no different. Now I was raised properly, to say hi to people, hold doors and if you don’t have something nice to say, text it. As usual we ran into people and amazing as I am I slapped on the beauty queen smile and was eloquent and polite, not so much everyone else. As my friend and I leaned against the wall chatting excitedly about this and that I noticed a pair in the corner of the bar, realizing who they were I instructed my friend to stay where he was. He turns to look and he sees two people, one which he has hooked up with and dated for a millisecond, while the other was a mutual friend turned frenemy, to me at least. Since my friend and I were raised properly he tells me he will entertain them with a hello, and he will be right back. I don’t really mind gives me a chance to catch everyone else up to speed about what’s going on, and get my southern baptist church lady on, if only I had a fan. It’s all about the accessories.
Watching from a safe distance, I see my friend saunter back over to our group I smile and sip my drink innocent as a lamb. Knowing that the people he talked to are rather rude, and the history with them and myself is more tainted than their STD results I keep my mouth shut, until they show up to say good night to my friend. Without a weary glance in my direction or a polite nod to my other friends they say good bye to my friend and in a whirl of glitter and stale lube they’re gone. Not insulted just a little intrigued by the lack of manners. In order to keep the peace you say hello or hi there. Having been raised to be nice to everyone because you never know who will be your boss, or in New York City, has a gun. Apparently these queens didn’t get the memo. Unfortunately we would run into these people at every bar in HK until I had to acknowledge them and be the bigger person, figuratively of course, and say hello. Moments like that make me question the validity of people and their genuine motives in New York City. Are we only good enough for a drive by hello ? Kiss-kiss, then done all at once? And if you’re not being said hello to or acknowledged, why can it make you feel like less of a person?
Lucky for me those questions are quickly swept away by two drinks in my hand a Madonna song. In this city people change their friends, jobs and apartments more times than people change underwear, you know IF you wear underwear. It can be a sad, uncaring world at times and there’s no point being hung up on the fact that there are people who I don’t care for and don’t care for me, however let’s get serious if you don’t like me that says more about you than me, now doesn’t it? It’s a healthy dose of ego, everyone needs, like espresso or antibiotics after going home with that guy you met at G Lounge and couldn’t stop itching. Just sayin’.
Or did you? Remember when Madonna was in Istanbul and decided that her nipple needed a breathe of fresh air? Yeah I tried to forget too but alas my poor brain won’t let go of the images that flash through my head like a demonic plague! However our Madge took time out of her busy schedule of shedding her old skin, feeding on the hearts of young girls and sprouting horns and a tail to enlighten us with why she thinks it makes no sense for people to show their junk. Back in January she said this:
“You don’t have to show nipples to be interesting. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re cutting edge if you do, right?”
She thinks it’s just attention whore seeking. sort of like driving around town in a $250k car or giving birth at the prom so she had to make herself clear by letting her areola breathe…. in public … in Turkey, because that makes sense. However I do have to say that if I had that body at 50 years old I would be flashing my nipple at concerts, public restrooms at the supermarket and school performances, hell I might not even wear clothes. If you haven’t seen it then be advised this is NOT SAFE FOR THE CHIDRRUNS!
Let’s face it Madonna’s halftime show was probably the best of the last several years and it rocked the socks off the homos and heteros alike so when M.I.A decided she was going punk out and flip the bird to the camera it was not appreciated by people. Madonna took no time throwing her ashy ass under the bus, then leaping on the crushed carcass in hopes of sucking up some youth and vitality. Sorry Madge it didn’t work boo boo th only thing you getting from her is hep C and contact buzz. Anyway so she took to Ryan Seacrest who used to sing her songs into a hair brush and a towel on his head while dancing naked in the mirror as a young girl to set the record straight about what happend that night.
“I was really surprised. I didn’t know anything about it. I wasn’t happy about it. I understand it’s punk rock and everything, but to me there was such a feeling of love and good energy, and positivity it seemed negative. It’s such a teenager…irrelevant thing to do…there was such a feeling of love and unity there what was the point? It was just out of place.”
Twenty years ago Madge would have been the one flipping the bird then lifting her skirt with no panties to show us her penis. However being the adult she has grown into, 27 procedures later, Madonna was the reserved one. I am thinking she was just tired from not having a filling meal of her usual vodka, virgins blood and satan semen. The breakfast of champions.
Kesha is a lot of things, sometimes a singer sometimes a fashonista but mostly she is doing what she can to spread her love, open sores and regret throughout the world. Which is why she is all too happy to destory man as she goes along her journey. Unfortunatly her journey has her music as a soundtrack, probably because she can’t afford the rights to the covers of good songs done by the fat guy at karaoke in Kansas City. However Kesha took time to show some insight to Glamour magazine with a synaptic misfire of epic proportions of how she talks about devouring men like Madonna and a new born baby.
I’m just very amused by five-year-old humor. Don’t get me wrong: I do destroy men on a weekly basis. It’s like a hobby. I’m like a praying mantis. They f–k me, and then I eat them. But who isn’t amused by a giant, dancing penis? Sometimes when I’m sad, I make my assistant put on the penis outfit and bounce around my house.
Glad to find that she has one person who thinks she’s amusing, even if it’s one her personalities. It’s pretty obvious that if you sleep with Kesha you better hope you have done everything else you wanted in your life, because there ain’t no coming back from this. As she mounts you and your skin begins to melt away and eyes pop in your head from the fumes leaking from her lady cavern you are going to try and pray only to choke on the fumes. If only Kesha was cool like a Praying Mantis. She wishes she could pull off the long lean body and kick ass extensions, lord knows she would have to give up beer and wings and her valtrex that is making her gain weight like Christina Aguilera at an all you can eat buffet.
The Super Bowl halftime show may have gone off without a hitch but there is now some new controversy rearing its ugly head. Now while it’s not exactly the oblong distorted nipple of Janet Jackson, it is just as inappropriate, apparently. M.I.A while taking to the stage for Madonna’s Give Me All Your Luvin’ which also boasts Nicki Minaj decided that she was going to show off the only thing has been giving her any actions in the last 7 years, her middle finger. I know it’s absolutely despicable to take away from a family show like this with a bunch of queens dipped in latex covered in sequins doing the Vogue like their coke addictions rely on it as Madonna does cartwheels exposing her granite crotch. Could this bold gesture have upstaged the Queen of Pop? Uh-oh if so I fear that the end of the world will be upon us thanks to this insolent whore who decided to piss off Madge, who thanks to a deal with Satan worth a Bentley full of porterhouse steaks runs the world. Now the question remains who will survive and what will be left of them? I have my sixteen cases of vodka and bomb shelter ready that should be enough to get through about 3 days before I have to venture out for a refill.
Just in case you missed Madonna dancing her face lift off during her Half Time performance at the Superbowl this is your second chance, so don’t blow it. Sure she is only 457 years old but she still rocks out like she’s just 229. The sad part was that there was no wardrobe malfunction which disappointed people who really wanted to see Madonna’s penis, sorry Ms. Jackson. So slap the flesh sausage out of your mouth and listen to your queen of pop she worked hard all last night drinking the blood of virgins, always filling but never fills you up, and having unprotected sex with with 20 year olds, she deserves your attention like the lady she is. Or else.
Sorry geriatrics Joe Francis and Madonna are not teaming up for Grannies Gone Wild. Things might be all well in the world of the biggest Pop Star this side of her dentures but some people are trying to bring her down peg. Joe Francis the infamous P.O.S that created Girls Gone Wild has filed a cease and desist letter to Madonna and her team based on a song she has on her newest album titled Girls Gone Wild. He says that Madonna and her “co-conspirators” are trying to get something for nothing, sort of like him except he did get something a trip to the free clinic and a burning sensation when he pees that won’t go away. Francis and his team feel it’s a clear violation of his trademark but said he is willing to work with the material girl if they can come to a few terms. He wants to negotiate a licensing agreement, account for the number times she has already used his trademark and she CANNOT perform the song at the Super Bowl. Since Joe is about as coherent as Lindsay Lohan at the Chateau Marmont on a Wednesday afternoon he sent a letter to Madonna, NBC and NFL since he feels they are conspiring against his pettiness and he wants a response TODAY by 5 PM PT. I think everyone will rally behind Madonna since we know better to piss off a woman who runs the world of gays. She will her minions rise up to Joe Francis a new bum hole and not in the fun way. Oh how will this unfold?