This is Blake Lively on the set of “Gossip Girl” yesterday.  I’ve never seen an episode of “Gossip Girl”, because I’m not a junior high girl or a 39-year-old gay man, but I’ve seen a lot of pictures of the people on that show and it’s obvious to me that the wardrobe department hates them all.  Every last one of these fools is always dressed like a jackhole.  Just look at this butt ugly dress they’ve stuffed Blake Lively into.  She looks like Grey Gardens Barbie.

Blake clearly understands the best way to detract from a hideous outfit is to bring as much focus as possible onto your boobs:

Demi Lovato (who is totally a cutter) just refuses to quit it with these goddamn ridiculous sunglasses.  I thought I was pretty clear the last time we talked about these neon plastic pieces of shit, but apparently I was gravely mistaken, because Miss Lovato has seriously stepped up her aggressive game of retro fug with whitewashed, ripped-at-the-knees skinny jeans and a lace vest.  Where the hell does she shop for clothes?  1989?  I can only hope Miss Lovato is fucking with us, because there are only two other options.  Option A is that she’s just returned from an excellent adventure with Bill & Ted, and Option B is that she’s gone full retard.

Everybody knows you never go full retard:

Demi Lovato, fucking with us in her costume as a Def Leppard groupie:

I’ve been ignoring this whole Runaways movie business for awhile, hoping it would just magically disappear.  I’m not sure precisely where the flaw was in my master plan, but things went awry at some point and the movie version of The Runaways starring Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning is still happening.  Stewart and Fanning are currently undergoing “vocal training” in preparation for their roles as Joan Jett and Cherie Currie, respectively.

I’m pretty sure that if you got a chimpanzee messed up on meth and put it on rollerskates with letters stuck to the wheels and then sent it skidding out into an oil slick, it could probably manage to stamp out a better idea than a movie starring a stoner Twilight retard and the little girl from Charlotte’s Web as the kickass chicks who sang “Cherry Bomb” and “Queens of Noise”.

Dakota Fanning arriving at a studio for voice lessons whilst playing dress-up in big girl shoes:

Kristen Stewart with her hair newly dyed black and cut in Joan Jett’s trademark shag:

Mr. Posh Spice David Beckham unveiled images for the new Emporio Armani fall/winter underwear campaign at Selfridges in London today.  I don’t really have a whole lot to add here.  Pictures of athletic men in their undershorts generally tend to speak for themselves, I feel.

Beckham for the Emporio Armani fall/winter underwear campaign:

Launching the new campaign at Selfridges in London:

Okay, I know I’ve said this before (repeatedly) but I don’t think I can ever say enough about how much I adore the way Posh is so completely out of her goddamn mind.  I honestly can’t tell you what’s going on in these pictures — I have no idea where Victoria Beckham thinks she’s going in a see through top with a tutu-ish skirt and the stripper version of ballet slippers — but I like to think that at some point it will involve a burlesque version of Swan Lake.

Leaving her hotel in London:

What the hell?  Listen up, Heidi.  I know you’re knocked up again and so you probably had to pull over on your way to this pediatric AIDS benefit event so you could puke up your breakfast on the side of the road and you’re exhausted and your back hurts and all you really want out of life right now is to lie in bed eating popsicles and watching stupid shit like She’s the Man, but you are a SUPERMODEL.  And not just any run-of-the-mill supermodel, either.  You’re goddamn HEIDI KLUM.  These saggy baggy jumpsuit shenanigans are just unacceptable.

At the “A Time For Heroes” carnival to benefit the Pediatric AIDS Foundation:

Here’s Hugh Jackman at LAX after flying in from someplace, and before you ask, I have no idea why he’s acting so totally unreasonable.  Why the hell does he have a shirt on?  Wolverine has no business wearing shirts, and I don’t even want to talk about that jackassy hat.

Arriving in LA wearing way too many clothes:

Dressed far more appropriately:

Wait, what?  I thought these bitches broke up last year?  Whatever.  Apparently they’re still happening, or re-happening or some shit, because here’s Drew Barrymore and Justin Long at a Green Day concert together last night.  Anyway, that’s not even really the point.  Let’s focus on what’s important here and talk about what in the holy hell Drew’s wearing.  I get that Drew’s all kooky and eccentric and generally very fond of dressing like it’s no later than about 1987 and it’s all just part of her hippy dippy charm, and that’s probably for the best because without all that she’d just be a mediocre actress with a speech impediment and abominable taste in men…

The hell was my point?  Oh, yeah.  The outfit.

Drew.  DUDE.  For serious, what are you wearing?  No, I mean it.  Look at yourself:

Is that a table cloth rigged together with a pair of my grandpa’s suspenders?  Why is there a gingham napkin wrapped around your neck?  And why is there a bird on the inside of your elbow?  Jesus, I hope that’s magic marker, because it’s one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen so I’d hate to think it won’t wash off.

The most reasonable explanation I can come up with for this situation is that Drew was at some sort of picnic, and she was high as a goddamn kite and she saw a pretty bird, and she really wanted a picture of the bird but she was so stoned that she forgot cameras had been invented, so she drew a picture of the bird on her arm, and then there was skinnydipping and some nefarious character came along and stole her clothes from the pile on the shore, and so she was forced to MacGyver an outfit for herself with the contents of the picnic basket.  She’s so resourceful!

Oh look you guys, it’s Bar Refaeli in GQ Italia, wearing some shorts she apparently stole from a nine-year-old dwarf.  I’m pretty sure you can actually see her cervix.  She looks pretty pissed about it, too.  Seriously… how unflattering is that cover photo?  I have no idea why the Italian editors of GQ hate Bar Refaeli so much, but I think the only way they could’ve gotten a worse picture is if they doused her with diesel fuel and set her ass on fire.

Bar Refaeli in the June ‘09 issue of GQ Italia:

Salut, mes porcelets!  It’s Sarah today.  Abby has the day off to start her training at Space Camp, but she’ll be back tomorrow.  Unless of course she meets up with a kid named Max and his best friend, Jinx… then her only hope is if John Travolta’s wife happens to be floating around and spackling on some glitter.  She once read a book on Morse code, you know!

There are probably only about 2% of you who will have any clue just what in the holy fucking hell Kelly Preston has to do with NASA.

Aaaanyway, the premiere of The Hangover happened yesterday, and I was under the impression from the previews that it starred Zach Galifianakis and some other dudes, but the red carpet photos are all about Heather Graham and her boobs in this somewhat ill-fitting and overly shiny red dress.  I seriously forgot Heather Graham was even alive, but apparently she’s not dead and she’s in The Hangover.  Who knew?

Whatever.  Boobs:

Lindsay Lohan’s swath of freckled destruction and epic failure continue! Rooting herself more firmly onto the “Do Not Invite” list, her supposed talks about joining the House of Ungaro has the current head designer threatening to leave if he catches wind of her. The New York Post reports,

Lohan is in Paris, according to multiple sources, talking to the House of Emanuel Ungaro about signing on as a “creative consultant” for the fashion line. But the current head designer of Ungaro, Esteban Cortazar, is not greeting the rehabbed starlet with open arms.

“Esteban is threatening to leave the company if they bring Lindsay on as a consultant,” said a fashion insider. “It has been a revolving door of designers there and if he leaves, his team will go with him.”

Ungaro owner Asim Abdullah signed Colombian-born Cortazar in 2007 at the age of 23. The young designer put his own line — which he’d launched in 2002 — on hold to join the troubled Ungaro house, and received warm reviews for the first Ungaro runway collection he debuted in March of last year.

Meanwhile Lohan, between a series of box-office bombs and highly publicized romances, has dabbled in fashion by designing a line of leggings and launching her own spray tan.

According to our source, “Ungaro thinks Lindsay is going to bring the company new energy and new buzz, but she is going to be the nail in the coffin. Nobody will take them seriously ever again.”

A rep for the House of Ungaro did not return our calls or e-mails. A lawyer for Cortazar had “no comment.”

Dabbled in fashion? Leggings are two pieces of fabric sewn together, usually with only one seam. They don’t even have to be cut specially to fit the body since they’re made of freaking spandex. It’s not rocket science, people. I’m pretty sure if I gave the local adult day care center some spandex, a sewing machine, and a Bedazzler, you’d get better shit than she can put out.

Sam Ronson and Lindsay arriving at Sam’s house at 2:45 AM:

Taylor Swift was on “The Today Show” this morning, I guess, performing in Rockefeller Centre.  This insanely shiny stuff is what she wore.  Jesus, even her guitar is sparkly.  I feel like if I look at these pictures too long, I might end up with epilepsy.  I am not generally a fan of sparkly shit, but I just don’t have it in me to hate Taylor Swift.  She confuses my eyeholes, but I like her anyway.  Her hair usually looks like either nylon Barbie hair or the kind of wig they put on actresses in Lifetime movies about cancer, but she’s so pretty.  Even though she actually just looks kinda like an adorable squinty-eyed rodent most of the time.  She’s somehow still pretty.  It’s an infinite mystery, like what hot dogs are made out of or why it always seems hotter outside when you’re wearing a skirt.  Taylor is also friends with that hellspawn Miley Cyrus and she once dallied with a Jonas and is therefore tainted beyond what an exorcism can oust, but whatever… I somehow like her anyway, okay?  DON’T JUDGE ME.

Taylor Swift singing something on “The Today Show” this morning: