People are all up in arms because apparently L’Oreal photoshopped Beyonce to appear whiter in their commercials featuring Feria hair color. In the ads she sports strawberry blonde hair and her skin looks decidedly lighter, making the singer a ‘weird, nearly white version of herself’, New York Times fumes. L’Oreal denies that they altered her skin tone.

We highly value our relationship with Ms. Knowles,” they said in a statement.

“It is categorically untrue that L’Oréal Paris altered Ms. Knowles’ features or skin tone in the campaign for Feria hair color.

So what’s the big freaking deal? Last time I looked, Beyonce’s the one who dyes her hair blonde or some other unnatural color. When’s the last time you saw her with “black” hair–oh let me guess, her hair naturally un-fros itself? Take your issue up with Beyonce and leave whitey out of it.

Beyonce blonde, blonde and oh yeah, blonde:

Although Beyoncé’s camp adamently denies it, rumors that the “Bootylicious” singer is pregnant have been swirling since her impromptu marriage to Jay-Z last month. Star Magazine says

Friends of the newlyweds tell the New York Post’s Page Six column that the couple is infanticipating their first child. “She has gained a lot of pregnancy weight,” a source tells Page Six. “When she gains weight, she normally does the Def Jam detox, but not now.”

Well, if it’s true, the pregnancy ought to go swimmingly, since Beyonce is apparently an old pro at getting knocked up. Nine MSN says

Gossip site Bossip.com has published the photo [above], showing a young girl who looks a lot like Beyonce nursing a pregnant belly.The pic, sent in by a Bossip.com reader, is alleged to be Beyonce at 15 years of age.

Is it really Beyonce? I don’t know. All I know is it’s clearly a black female in the height of nineties fashion who vaguely resembles a young Mrs. Jay-Z. Of course, Geraldo Rivera vaguely resembles Beyonce if you tilt your monitor back 45 degrees and squint your eyes from about fifty paces. Look, I’m only here to conjecture wildly and speculate. If it’s “facts” and “credibility” you want, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place, baby. We all know I’ve never been one to look after I wipe.

A very definitely pregnant Nicole Kidman in Nashville May 11th:

Meet the latest addition to the Beyoncé Knowles House of Deréon clothing line: the “Deréon Girls Collection.” Now with 50% more kiddie porn flava! Softpedia says

The ["Deréon Girls Collection"] ads depicts a series of young girls aged around 7 or 8 seemingly playing dress up [in] 5 inch high heels, wearing lipstick and posing in a slightly disturbing, overtly mature way.

Seriously, who buys their kids this kind of shit? Oh, that’s right — black people. And probably pedophiles with little girls locked in their basements. Boy, I’d like to see the market research on that target demographic! No, seriously. I would. I’ve got this whole Roca Wear for Registered Sex Offenders thing I’ve been working on for a while now. It’s kind of “urban plight” meets “sexual-predator,” but with funky fresh results.

They’ve been married for all of 14 days now, and the honeymoon is already over for Beyonce and Jay-Z. According to The Mirror

The newlyweds have had their first lovers’ tiff. It kicked off at the Hollywood Bowl in LA. [Jay-Z] climbed on stage [and started] rapping over a few songs. The DJ slapped on one of Beyonce’s biggest hits, Crazy In Love. Jay-Z… stormed to the mic and growled “Fuck that. Sorry, Bey, but fuck that - let’s play something else.”

Furious, Bey stalked off. After he came off stage, she confronted him, demanding to know what the hell his comments had been about. She was gesturing wildly and not looking happy.

Ah, marriage. That special union that makes his formerly cute little habit of winking seem like a fucking Tourettes’ tic and his penchant for leaving wet towels in the floor a direct assault on your emotional well-being. Like Katherine Hepburn once said, “If you want to sacrifice the admiration of many men for the criticism of one, go ahead, get married.”

Though there has yet to be any official confirmation, singer Beyonce Knowles and her boyfriend of six years, rapper Jay-Z, were reportedly married Friday night in New York. The bride wore a white V-neck gown and a white flower in her hair, keeping theme with an all-white ceremony that included guests Gwyneth Paltrow, her husband Chris Martin, and former Destiny’s Child members Kelly Rowland and Michelle Williams. Noticeably absent: The Game, Mase, and Nas. According to OK! Magazine

The ceremony was followed by a lavish party at Jay-Z’s penthouse apartment in NYC’s Tribeca neighborhood, decorated with white orchids and the number ‘4,’ signifying the birthday number Beyonce and Jay-Z both share (Beyonce in September, Jay-Z in December). 60,000 custom-designed white orchid blooms [were flown in] from Thailand for the ceremony.

The only thing more boring than this? The Dewey Decimal system, televised bass fishing, and the interpretive dance version of “Lost in Translation.”

G to the izz-O, P to the izz-A big pimpin at the reception:

Rapper Jay-Z and singer Beyonce are finally ready to tie the knot. Blah blah getting married blah blah zzzzzz. People magazine says

Beyoncé Knowles and longtime beau Jay-Z have taken out a marriage license in Scarsdale, N.Y.. According to a source, the pair obtained a license Tuesday morning. The document is valid for 60 days.

In other more interesting news, Lindsay Lohan took a nose-picking constitutional around Beverly Hills with DJ Samantha Ronson yesterday. You know that old saying — you can pick your friends, and your can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your lesbian enabler’s nose! Unless she’s letting a couple of chunks of coke go to waste up there, in which case it’s your civic duty to help yourself to the leftovers. They don’t call it the Law of Conservation of Mass for nothin’.

Dig deeper:

There was plenty of shockingly awful (see futuristic Tina and Beyonce, above) fug at last night’s Grammys awards show. I find that like stink on a gorilla, fashion disasters seem almost intrinsic to an award show. The more stink, the merrier.

And speaking of stink, let’s start with Nas and girlfriend Kelis, promoting his new album “Nigger” and what’s sure to be a big hit with college-educated African-Americans everywhere — his new fashion line NegroWear!^TM:

Rihanna did her best wounded exotic bird in a ruffled cobalt blue Zac Posen disaster. I see they got the feathers, but for the tar, try Nas’s NegroWear!^TM brand lynchin’ tar:

Miley Cyrus and her devil eyes showed up in a white sequined Celine dress and hair extensions she forgot to curl:

Beyonce donned a hideous beaded tulle Elie Saab gown she probably borrowed from Candyland’s Princess Frostine:

Melissa Joan Hart’s dress is okay; her hair color, lack of makeup and general fatness are not. I know she’s pregnant, but that’s way too much bloat:

Cher came in costume as Goth Cowardly Lion.

Carrie Underwood’s floral Zuhair Murad isn’t great, but it isn’t fabulous, either. It’s the hair helmet that bothers me. It looks like a damn tranny wig:

I was going to do separate Best and Worst Dressed lists, but let’s face it — this year’s Video Music Awards brought out the usual cavalcade of heinous fashion disasters, and out of the bunch at best anything could be categorized as “Acceptably Dressed” — so I’m going to just lump it all together. If there was an overall theme to this year’s VMAs, I’d have to say it was “Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman Before She Got All Fancy and Still Wore Whore Outfits,” as evidenced by Rhianna here. This look is saying “Upscale Melrose Hooker” all the way.

More fashion commentary after the jump!

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So the Grammy Awards were last night. I took minute-by-minute notes as show progressed so that those of you who didn’t catch it could enjoy the full Grammys experience. Oh, and I put up a shot of Jennifer Aniston topless, just because.

7:58 p.m. — Two minutes ’till showtime. Two bottles of liquor, a microwave burrito, and half a pack of cigarettes just within reach for maximum viewing pleasure.

8:00 p.m. — The show opens with Sting and The Police performing their hit song “Roxanne.” I play that fun drinking game where one of you drinks whenever Sting sings “Put on the red light” and the other person drinks whenever he sings “Roxanne.” But there was just me, so I had a lot of drinking to do. Still fun.

8:05 p.m. — One bottle of Jager, one burrito, eight smokes left.

8:30 p.m. — The phone rings. An ex-boyfriend wants to “come over and talk.” Probably without his pants. I say no, I’m doing important work right now. He argues. During this phone call somebody won something, possibly the Dixie Chicks, who won approximately 7,426 Grammys last night.

8:45 p.m — Justin Timberlake looks gay while singing one of his lame-ass songs. I mean really gay. I feed the burrito to the dog because I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.

9:12 p.m. — Mary J. Blige wins “Best R & B Song.”

9:30 p.m. — Something weird is in my belly button. It has a smell. I do a couple of shots of Jager.

10:15 p.m. — Somebody else wins something, but the dog has diarrhea courtesy of the beef burrito, so I’m too busy cleaning it up to notice.

10:28 p.m. — I balance my cigarette on the arm of the couch to better inspect my belly button.

10:31 p.m. — Carrie Underwood wins “Best New Artist” and the Dixie Chicks win something else, probably “Most Useless Who-Gives-a-Shit Band.”

10:37 p.m. — I notice the couch is smoldering.

10:38 p.m. — Note to self: Jager does NOT put out a fire.

10:40 p.m.– The smoke alarm goes off.

10:48 p.m. — The dog has more diarrhea. Justin Timberlake wins “Best Dance Recording.” The two are not related. Or are they?

10:52 p.m. — I throw up.

11: 12 p.m. — I throw up again.

3:47 a.m. — I wake up. It seems that the Grammys are over. The couch is completely charred on one side, there’s puke in my hair, and the whole room smells like ass. Dog ass. I wish I still had my burrito.

And there you have it. It’s like you were there, wasn’t it? For the complete list of the night’s winners, click here.

All of the fug after the jump

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Beyonce Knowles is bootylicious but where are the boobies?

Find out after the jump.

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“Bootylicious”, the word Beyonce Knowles uses to describe her awesome butt, is to be added to the dictionary. Beyonce admits she is puzzled the word is being added to the official English language. Here’s her own explanation as to what the word means:

“I don’t know what it says in the dictionary but my definition is beautiful, bountiful and bounce-able.”

“Fuglycious”, the word I use to describe her husband Jay-Z, should also be added to the dictionary. I don’t think you need an explanation as to what the word means.

Source

And I think she’s got what pirates and thieves are looking for: the booty.