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Guys, I think I just read the most humiliating sublebrity story I’ve ever read. Like, ever.
It involves a certain celebrity mom (ahem, see right) abusing her two cash cows’ daughters’ Carvel Black Cards to the point of a major incident (I’m talking, like, cops). The tore-up, deluded famewhore mother leaked her version of the story to the tabloids and played the victim–in response, Carvel cleared their name by publicly naming and shaming the whole family in an official press release.
NOT LYING: I AM LITERALLY JITTERING WITH TINGLES OF MORTIFICASIAN FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED.
Read what I wrote again, please. I’m not talking about the AMEX Black Card, I’m talking about a freebie card distributed by CARVEL–the ice cream company–to famous (Ali Lohan is famous? Eh, who am I to judge) folks, to entice those celebrities to come in person (as stated in the card’s fine print) to Carvel stores for a maximum of $25 free purchases per week, for 75 years. Pretty sweet deal for a bunch of people who’ll likely be in rehab or formerly famous in ten years!
I am so mortified by this press release that I have no choice to post it here for you in full, straight from the Carvel blog. Here goes:
Posted on June 17, 2010 by carvelicecream
ATLANTA, GA (June 17, 2010) – As part of Carvel’s 75th Anniversary celebration Continue reading The Lohan Family: Carvel-ing Out A Niche In Low-Rent History
Filed under: Ali Lohan, Annoying Things Celebrities Do, Black Card Abuse, Carvel Black Card, Carvel Black Cards Are Amazing, Carvel FTW, Carvel Ice Cream, Celebrity Mom, Dina Lohan, Dina Lohan Makes Us Hurl, Discounts, Embarrassing, Freebie, Lindsay Lohan, Low-rentitude, Pathetic, Playing The Victim, Public Humiliation, Public Shaming, Shameful Behavior, Sublebrities, The Lohan Family, The Lohans, Time To Call It
Jon Gosselin, who once “took a lot of abuse” from his estranged wife, Kate, is making some real changes in his life, taking the path to a stronger place.
For instance, as he told ParentDish, he is like, totally “together” with girlfriend Hailey Glassman. And he spends all his time with her ‘cuz she’s like, his best friend! And she’s sooooo different from Kate. She’s Jewish too, so he’s gotten really into Judaism–he like, loves challah bread–and is even looking into converting! Did we mention that Hailey is sooo different from Kate? Kate was mean! So was Christian Audigier! Anyway, he loves Hailey like, so much!
Jon Gosselin isn’t an asshole, he’s just a pussy. Somebody call me when this dude gets a scrotum and we’ll talk about whether or not he’s “changed.”
Back in late 2007, there was a lot of speculation about when the first set of leaked nude photos of tween icon Vanessa Hudgens were actually shot. Frankly, I believed her story: they were 3-year old snaps from roughly 2003, taken and once sent to her high school boyfriend (shockingly, if you did the math, this made her out to be about 14 or 15 in the shots). The ex was a bit of a bastard, and eventually got his jollies by disseminating the sexy pictures across the interwebz. Because she was so young, I felt reallyreallyreally almost-pedophil-icky just glancing at the images (the link above is to censored versions)–after all, Hudgens was essentially a child in them. A nude child, a famous nude child lacking judgment, and indeed a ripening sexual being, but a child nonetheless.
So I basically gave her a pass. No, it wasn’t a good idea to take those pictures of herself, but for chrissake, don’t we all do a bunch of stupid things when we’re kids? How smart can you actually be at 14 when half your brain is jelly and the other hormones? There’s no such thing as foresight at that time. Instead, I felt the blame was on us, grown-up people with nothing better to do than avoid our jobs by scouring gossip blogs and leer over dirty pictures of Disney stars. Pathetic. Icky. Shameful.
But it looks like Ms. Hudgens now faces another photo scandal, this time with nude and semi-nude photos recently hacked from her Blackberry. Lots of ‘em.
Does she get another pass? Perhaps not this time.
People in Hudgens’s camp apparently claim that these photos are as old or even older than the originals, but I’m not so sure. As you can probably see, her body shape has toned and matured significantly. The cheeks once adorably swollen with baby fat–quite evident in the original photos, seem oh-so-sinewy and adult in the latest. The glossy blowouts of her glamorous locks are consistent with her look of the last couple of years. And the black RAZR phone that she captures in this number:
…wasn’t released to special folks, like Hollywood stars, until mid-to-late 2005, and really saw its heyday from 2006 to 2007.
Then there’s that belly-button ring, which she apparently got in 2007, prominent in so many of the pictures. Hunh.
I’m not saying that these photos are from last week. But I am saying that I’m not buying this jazz about how Hudgens made one mistake six years ago, and it was one she never repeated.
Why does this bother me so much? Maybe because I’m convinced these pictures really have been living on Hudgen’s SIM card for a while. And for the life of me, I cannot understand why.
I absolutely, positively need to know why the MySpace generation, even its celebrity icons, are so desperate to document their goody-goods in easily sharable formats.
It’s not like these people don’t understand that we live in the shadow of Big Brother. He will find you, with his lipstick security camera or Flip cam or cameraphone, pissing yourself at a party or screwing somebody else’s boyfriend, whether you’re famous or not. Yes, once upon a time, a picture was just a picture–and if you destroyed the print, the film, and any potential Xeroxes you were in pretty good shape. Today, if you so much as think about attending a party, there’s already a photo of you there tagged on Facebook; its file remnants, regardless of what you do, forever living somewhere entangled within their intellectual property policy.
We as a people are becoming too well-documented. Pictures are too easy to take. I have about 60 photos in an album from my entire childhood; I’ve got 40 new pictures on my Blackberry of myself next to a super weird dog I met at a coffee shop last week. Put to record far more often, young celebrities are immortalized in thousands of photographs every day–they even enjoy the benefits of Photoshop–why in fuck’s sake would they need more? And why do they always take pics that are reminiscent of amateur video porn?
It disappoints me. And it frightens the hell out of me (Note to my womb: no future baby ever to be built in there will be given a cameraphone for Christmas). It’s yet another reminder that the up-and-coming stars of today aren’t like those in Hollywood’s golden years–those people with so much talent and presence and spark and “a certain something” that they simply needed to be harnessed and put on film–they’re just a bunch of kids that need attention, just like everybody else.
In the end, I still feel pretty icky about looking at the racy Hudgens photos. But perhaps now for a different reason.
Filed under: Blackberry, Creepy Tingles, Disney, I Call Bullshit, Ick, Leaked Photos, MySpace Generation, Pathetic, RAZR phones, Self-Documentasian, Timelines, Vanessa Hudgens, Vanessa Hudgens Nude Photos
According to the UK’s Telegraph, Some Japanese brides feel so pressured to have a good guest showing that–in addition to forking out the hundies for an open bar, tiered cake and boring dinner plate–that they HIRE CHEERY AND CLEAN-LOOKING FOLKS TO ACT AS “FRIENDS” AT THEIR WEDDING.
Oh. My god. I have never. Heard. Of a more. Pathetic. And Sad. Set of Circumstances.
Seriously: WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK??!?!?!?!?
Paris Hilton’s My New BFF, season deux, debuted last night.
And despite all of my wishes, prayers, hopes and dreams, the set’s “throne” chair did not suddenly morph into a slobbering mound of feral, starving, sharp-toothed, snapping, diseased, angry labia that instantly/simultaneously enveloped and digested Paris (and that little piss, Onch) in one smelly, violent bite.
That seriously would have been the best thing ever. Ever.
Source (nice typo, MTV!)
ALRIGHTY! And now I’ll resume patiently waiting for the entire hipster population on this planet to expire. (I know, I know… but who will buy all of the very-tiny t-shirts? We’ll figure that out later.)
Dudes– nothing gives me more retarded tingles than watching somebody get busted for being unprepared and/or sensationalist and/or poorly informed while on split-screen live TV. It’s fucking painful. PAINFUL. Remember Kevin James’s massive “appeasement” stumble on Hardball? Shouldn’t the imminent shame resulting from such incidents be enough to scare some studying into anybody with a booking agent? Why-why-WHY does this continue to happen?
Oh, and I’m talking to YOU, Michael Goldfarb (this is not our fellow HuffPo compatriot, by the way, but the on-leave editor of The Weekly Standard and McCain’s paid megaphone):
My gosh. Can somebody please tell these dorks to do their fuckin’ homework before they go on television? If one is the McCain Campaign National Spokesman, one should at least do that. Or is everybody taking lessons from the Palin School of Interview Bumbling?
Tens of thousands of jobs have been lost. People are losing their homes. Banks are collapsing. The stock market has suffered an historic drop. The largest and most stable financial institutions in our country are declaring bankruptcy.
Even if you’re not willing to admit that we are suffering through an abysmal economic crisis of mass proportions (We’re “strong,” right, Dana Perino?), you’ve got to admit that uh, we’re kinda in trouble and need to figure out how to turn this country around.
What can we do? What’s going to help? More importantly, what does our fearless leader say?
Our Commander-In-Chief’s party mate and Presidential hopeful John McCain is pretty damn old, too. If he gets elected, should we start sending telegrams to the White House? Or just get really, really big bullhorns?
How are you? I’m fine. I’ve been really busy or whatever, but everything’s great, just great!
Let me cut to the chase: I’m not a huge fan of yours. I am freaked out by your family. I am freaked out by your freckly legs. I am freaked out by your mug shot. Hell, I am freaked out by your Friday (Hee hee! Get it?). People say you can act–which is true on some level (I loved Mean Girls)–but I’ve seen you with that gravelly voice, shoving your hands in your pockets, shrugging your shoulders and acting petulant, in enough movies (Okay, I’ve seen Freaky Friday and I Know Who Killed Me and, by God, Lucky You… which is more than I can say for most of the world) to know that you’re a bit of a one-trick pony.
I don’t think fame-dependency has been good for you. I’ve noticed that your weight constantly fluctuates (you’re looking a bit thin these days, by the way… I do hope it’s pilates and not yay). You parade around Robertson Blvd. with a perpetual come-hither lip snarl, but nobody’s coming hither. And now that you’re no longer under rehabordeathwatch, and your agent is freaking out because your “serious stripper” movie proved to be a fucking disaster, and the trades told everyone that your big-screen name is spelled F-L-O-P on television, you ‘re actually starting to seem… really, really desperate.
Is this why you seem to be taking cues from our DISGRASIAN Hall-of-Shame-whore, Tila Tequila? Let’s face it, she needs attention like most people need air, and so do you! She loves her tits, and so do you! She loves sequined dresses, chapeaus, going blonde, and rubbing up against butch chicks…
The problem with this is not so much that we don’t bi your paparazzi-perpetuated lesbian love affair (drive-bis are tired, and we loathe them all).
It’s that we don’t care.
TAKE AN ACTING CLASS. BECOME MORE INTERESTING. DO SOMETHING. DO BETTER. DON’T JUST DO YOUR HOMELY FEMALE BEST FRIEND.
I’m so fucking bored of you I could tip a cow (but I won’t).
Filed under: Attention Whores, Boring People, Coke Face, Drive-Bis, Fame is Fleeting, Lindsay Lohan, Paparazzi, Pathetic, People Who Have No Shame, Samantha Ronson, Tila Has A Sphere of Influence?, Tila Tequila
The truckload is apparently the first containing parts of over $85 million dollars of materials that have been sitting in a FEMA warehouse since, oh, ’bout 2006. Many Americans became aware of the “lost” materials last month after a CNN-led investigation unveiled that the materials had been deemed “surplus” and were being given away to other government agencies.
From Final Call:
James McIntyre, FEMA’s press secretary, stated in an email to CNN that storage fees were costing FEMA more than $1 million a year and another agency wanted the warehouses torn down. “We needed to vacate them,” he wrote.
“Upon review of our assets and our need to continue to store them, we determined that they were excess to FEMA’s needs; therefore, they are being excessed from FEMA’s inventory,” Mr. McIntyre further wrote.
Maybe McIntyre just needed to work on his vocab. Cuz’ where I’m from, “excess” implies lack of need. Or maybe that means that Louisiana DIDN’T HAVE ANY MORE NEED AND ALL OF THE PROBLEMS FROM KATRINA HAD TOTALLY BEEN SOLVED AND JUST DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT!
Um… woo hoo, America?
Filed under: A Truck? One Truck?, America Is Doing A Bang-Up Job, Bad Vocabularies, Disasters, Embarrassing, FEMA, Hurricane Katrina, Oh Bravo, Paltry Efforts, Pathetic, Shame, Solving Problems, This is Bullshit
Supermodel citizen Naomi Campbell was convicted of assault Friday and sentenced to 200 community service hours for creating a disturbance on a British Airways flight and spitting on two Heathrow police officers in April. Naomi has been found guilty of assault two times previously; in 2000 for hitting her assistant with a phone, and in 2007 for hitting her maid with a crystal-encrusted Blackberry.
Campbell blamed her April “air rage” incident on British Airways, claiming that an airline employee called her a “Golliwog supermodel.” “Golliwog” refers to a hideous, blackface children’s book character popular one hundred years ago:
Which isn’t far-fetched, especially considering this recent exposé about “casual racism” at the British airline.
But, Naomi, we think you should look on the bright side:
At least someone still considers you a supermodel.
Paris Hilton’s “shaman,” whom she’s been seen around town with over the last week, has been exposed as a fraud. No, worse…he’s an actor. Maxie Santillan is his name, and he has appeared in Pirates of the Caribbean and various TV shows. Santillan identifies himself as Latino/Hispanic on his MySpace page and, despite not really being a spiritual adviser, he has some enlightening things to say there. Under “Heroes,” Santillan lists “Me, Myself, and I” and, under favorite books, he writes, “I have not made my autobiography yet.”
Following his outage, Santillan released this statement:
“Hey dudes! How’s it hangin’? So, like, guess you heard I’m not technically a ‘guru’ per se exactly, but there are some key things you should know about me. I’m a full-on Capricorn, a practitioner of bikram yoga over the course of the last 15 days, and I have been known to be a spiritual adviser and healer…between the sheets. And, no, I didn’t ‘go there’ with Paris, even though she wanted it, but I was all, ‘Stay pure, girl, go to the light. Fly little birdie, fly.’ Also, I rub a crystal in my armpits instead of deodorizants. So in a sense of speaking, I was helping her on a path of enlevitation and visionating. Yeah, and um…guess that’s all for now. Hit me up for a headshot, Hollywood. I also do children’s parties.”