If I had one wish, it would be for blackened Drake (sorry Tyrese, you lost the crown) to sit the hell down and petition for ‘One On One’ to come back for another season.
The music video for “I Hit It First” chronicles the tale of how Moesha’s brousin was the fairy godmother in the Cinderella story that is ex-girflriend Kim Kardashian. Lord send me a sponsor worthy of Teairra Mari so he can go buh-buy-buy-buy-buy.
You can go ahead and press play if you want, or log on YouTube and watch tutorials on how to properly fade your drawn on eyebrows. I’m pretty sure you can decide which is more important.
There is no age or economic class cap on being pressed. That’s good to know.
Speaking at a Mexico City fashion gala last week, Oscar de la Renta told the press that he isn’t at all bothered that Michelle Obama has not selected him as a clothier because for him it’s all about dressing the average woman.
The designer dissed the FLOTUS in 2009 for wearing a cardigan during her first visit with Queen Elizabeth II. Your homegirl is petty is like shit.
The release party for The World According to Wonder was filled with more D-list stars than the backstage area at the this year’s Soul Train Awards and the $5 DVD bin at Walmart combined. Finally, some good news.
The coffee table book available in stores this February is jam packed with never-before-seen original photos and pop culture anecdotes detailing the history of the Hollywood-based production company World of Wonder, which is responsible for blessing the masses ballsy original programming including RuPaul’s Drag Race, Party Monster, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Inside Deep Throat, Tori and Dean, Million Dollar Listing, and Becoming Chaz.
“It’s really amazing because this is a company that caters [to] and celebrates people who dance to the beat of a different drummer, and that’s a rarity in Hollywood because Hollywood wants to make money, and this is a rare success story,” his majesty RuPaul dished to Entertainment Tonight at the event.
Check out more flicks of La Toya Jackson, Jiggly Caliente, Aubrey O’Day and others inside!
That finger wag really means, “Now you just wait a fucking second.”
If there are three things Future can do without batting an eyelash it’s soothing a crying child by humming the chorus to “Squares Out Your Circle”, producing and starring in a YouTube hair tutorial on achieving a sickening dreadlocks bun, and belt out his signature song “Turn On The Lights” with the conviction of a dozen Mahalia Jackson’s singing for change on skid row.
I hold these truths to be self-evident, “Turn On The Lights” makes me twerk in my solitude. It’s like fire shut up in my bones.
Imagine the look of “fuck outta here” that instantly plastered across my face upon learning that my vagina’s ringback tone had been giving the remix treatment by Lloyd. No, not the lovable personal assistant of Ari Gold but that Lloyd.
Obviously I’m a hater by default and don’t approve, so much in fact that I refuse to embed the audio. But you can listen to it here.
Amar’e Stoudemire reached his hand into the Barney bag of “shit I shouldn’t say anymore” and pulled out a winner.
Last week, Ciara’s ex-boyfriend let his inner bitch get a little shine in a response to a fan asking him to “make up for his past season and improve defense,” sending a direct message containing a word that rhymes with maggot from his verified Twitter account.
But here’s the kee-kee. The fan posted a screen shot of the direct message, which can only be seen by the sender and the recipient, and shit got real.
Stu Jackson, NBA executive vice president of basketball operations, announced the a $50,000 fine Tuesday in a release, calling Stoudemire’s language offensive and derogatory. There goes his straw hat and Paris Fashion Week coins.
He issued an apology for the slur on Tuesday (June 26) saying, “I am a huge supporter of civil rights for all people. I am disappointed in myself for my statement to a fan. I should have known better and there is no excuse.”
Sherri Shepherd‘s neighbors better get used to dealing with the extended party mix of “End of Time” knocking pictures off their walls at obscene hours of the night.
Page Six reports that Star Jones‘ ex-husband (stop laughing) Al Reynolds is renting a room in Shepherd’s Upper West Side townhouse while he’s in New York City working on a financial project. Save your shade, please. Extreme coupon clipping is a full-time job.
So, a bitch has made herself a pallet on the living room floor until further notice.