Here are four words never used collaboratively in the history of the English language: Nancy Grace nipple slip. For good reason, too. Just click the header. It’s like a big old wad of ground beef. Us Magazine says:
On Monday night’s Dancing with the Stars, the 51-year-old HLN host had a major wardrobe malfunction. After ABC quickly cut away to a static shot of the audience, Grace readjusted her dress and buried her face in partner Tristan MacManus’ shoulder.
“On the European version that would be perfectly fine,” Tom Bergeron joked.
But the judges were able to see past the partial nudity and appreciate Grace’s performance. “How refreshing,” Len Goodman said. “That was a proper quickstep. Well done!”
Now we just wait for a Nancy Grace upskirt to hit the interwebs and my own private circle of hell will be complete. My fifth-grade teacher must be so proud of me right now.
Jennifer Lopez suffered a serious wardrobe malfunction last night when her salad plate-sized nipple poked its way out of her dress while filming an episode of “Wetten dass..?” in Palma de Mallorca, Spain. For a German talk show, there sure were a surprising lack of turtlenecks and Capuchin monkeys on leashes. I was expecting something more dry and devoid of any notion of humor. You know, sorta like my last couple of posts.
What’s worse than a Lady Gaga nipslip? How about two Lady Gaga nipslips? Today is just not going to be our day, my friends. We should stay inside with the shades drawn and nurse a bottle of gin until the bad feelings go away.
Arriving at the CFDAs to get her Fashion Icon (no, really) Award last night:
Michelle Rodriguez is the kind of chick you find peeing standing up in the parking lot when your Dad makes the mistake of stopping at a Denny’s two blocks from a lesbian biker bar in northern Daytona at two in the morning because you didn’t go when your mom told you to back in Jacksonville and there’s no way you’re holding it another hour to Orlando. You can almost feel the hot sting of shame and splattered stranger-urine as your mother shakes her head and mouths “I TOLD you to go when we stopped!” from the front passenger window.
I haven’t seen this bad of acting since I came home and my ex was fist-deep into some slut’s poonany on our bed. He plastered on his best “concerned” face and said he lost his watch in there. When I asked him what he was doing to get his watch lost in there in the first place, he high-kicked out of the room lifting an imaginary hat, singing “Hello My Ragtime Gal”. Nice try, bub. Here’s Heidi Montag trying her best to look like she did not, in fact, yank down her own top.
Tons of pictures in Costa Rica, because paparazzi love a camera whore:
Crack might be “wack,” and crack might be “cheap,” but judging by her X Factor performance on Sunday night, Whitney Houston is back to basin’ again (FF to the 4:00 mark for the especially crack-y stuff). Star Magazine says
The admitted drug user’s bizarre appearance on Britain’s The X Factor raised eyebrows Sunday, as she nervously struggled through her song “Million Dollar Bill,” and seemed disoriented during the interview afterward.
When asked by the host when her album was to be released, Whitney paused and stared at the ground before stammering, “Yeah, the um…the album? It should released this weekend or next week sometime. I’ll be back here in April for the tour.”
When [the host] asked her what she thought of the talent, Whitney again looked at the floor for the answer. “I thought that they were…um…how do I put this? Really good.” Then she fiddled with her nose and added, “So that’s um…they’re young.”
Jesus Christ she’s freakin’ twitchy! All that’s missing is a herkie into a pile of folding chairs and a nervous smelling of the fingers she had shoved under her armpits during her Meredith Baxter-Birney monologue and she could be the old black version of Mary Katherine Gallagher.
I’m a day late and a dollar short on this one, but it seems that Beyonce suffered a wardrobe malfunction onstage at the Oscars Sunday night. Put your face right next to the monitor and squint and you’ll see it. You might need to tilt the screen a little. Maybe lean way back. Then ask yourself if scouring the internet for celebrity nipples is where you saw yourself ten years ago and try to determine at what point your life became a meaningless void. At least that’s the way I did it.
