TMZ – Come Fly With Meeeeeeeee
If you’ve got a spare ten G’s kicking around at the end of the month, because I don’t know I guess you’ve got a really good relationship with your Mint account, then you probably spend it shuttling yourself between coasts aboard a JetSmarter on the weekend. That’s what Mazen Dayen (who?) was doing when he found himself on the same flight as Kim and Kanye West, right before he threw his head back in the air and cursed the gods above for landing him on the same cloistered six-hour journey as the two worst travelers in history. Kim spent the whole flight snoring, while Kanye yammered on and on and on about watches and cars and servants and the wicked splendor of riches most immeasurable, even though Mazen tried to drop a huge hint by keeping his earphones in the whole time. Sorry Mazen.
Huffington Post – “Is Kyga No More?” 
This is what I hear whenever I have to listen to news about these two:
EW – Bye Matthew Stanford
What? I mean Michael Strahan. Whatever your name is. I didn’t even watch you when I worked from home. I didn’t even notice when you won a Super Bowl. I didn’t even pay attention when you GAVE THE KEYNOTE SPEECH AT MY COLLEGE GRADUATION. But! You seemed like a real nice dude and you had to sit next to Kelly fuckin Rippa for god knows how many mornings and that, my friend, takes some mettle.
E! – Friendly Old Man from Nursing Home Shows Appreciation for Doting Nurse
Ozzy Osbourne, a lovable mewling burnt piece of toast, showed up for a press conference at the Los Angeles Palladium yesterday to announce the merge of his Ozzfest with Slip Knot’s Knotfest. Oh, for the love of pills, come on. Can someone please let this old burnt boulder live his days in peace, eating burritos in a cave and slamming buttons on a Baby Einstein just to see what happens? Anyway, Sharon was there too, since Ozzy admits his recently separated wife is still “the boss.” Well, yeah. Pretty much anything with motor skills and a basic command of the English language is your boss. God, I love you Ozzy. Never change, you Prince of Fucking Darkness. And brain cysts.
People – Dear Gwen Stefani and Everyone Else Like Her
Seriously? Go fuck yourself. This is not empowering. This does not show solidarity. This does not make me feel better about my pasty skin or my aimless life post 30 or my crippling debt or the war that’s waging between my need to lose weight and the unshakable devotion I have to alcohol. You are not me. You are not us. When us LAYDEEZ wake up with no makeup, we don’t look like this. We look like death. We look like a glossy slice of ham tangled up in some napkins. We look like someone did a water color painting on the mattress using only the shades black, bronze, and clear sweat. We look like someone brought a feral cat’s nest inside and sewed it to a patient who’s been dead for 17 years and just woke up from the coma. Gwen. When you’re comfortable dumping your team of body perfectors, take another selfie. Share it for the world to see. I dare you.
Wow Gwen, so brave.
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