And Now: Some Sad confused clowns crying.

Because having your face look like a slab of ice-cream that has been left in a freezer for too long is totally hot right now, here is a bunch of clips from Jezebel of Real Housewives leaking from their eyes, which in some cultures where additional facial expressions accompany such physiological reactions is known as crying.

Get DAT MONEY, Prince!

Get DAT MONEY, Prince!

Twenty years ago I was six and so my engagement of entertainment news watching ZZZAP! and seeing if that evil annoying bitch Daisy Dares had dared the handymen to throttle her yet.

Accordingly, I guess I wasn’t aware of this shit, but apparently Prince had a HUGEEEEE wine-throwing falling out with his then-record label Warner that was so epic he called himself a slave, changed his name to a symbol to piss them off then released some shitty albums to fulfil his contract.

But since we live in a tough economy and sparkly platform shoes don’t pay for themselves, Prince has decided artistic integrity and the whole point he made such a big fuss about making isn’t so important any more, and has just signed a mega-deal with Warner to re-release all of his old albums.

Translation: Prince is GETTING DAT MONEY!!!

Honey Boo Boo

Now, a lot of you might be sitting there thinking ‘Prince is such a turncoat sell-out’ or ‘Prince might as well just be Jennifer Lopez at a dictator’s birthday party!’ and that may well be, but looking like a gender confused explosion of MAC concealer isn’t cheap, nor is a lavish wardrobe of spandex catsuits, so give a guy a break.

Prince basically entering in an agreement for Warner Brothers to re-release all of his old material is his way of saying “Yes I had standards. Yes I bitch and moan about people hearing the same stuff over and over again, and Yes, I still hate Madonna, but fuck it, I’m going to get even more filthy rich…i’ll spare a thought for integrity whilst I replace my loo roll with $100 bills made with Madonna’s face on them!”

I always wondered why he had that squiggly ass symbol for a name, but like most of my ignoramus generation I had more important things to focus on, like writing about Kim Kardashian.

Single Armenian Female

Single Armenian Female

There are a lot of ways you can tell if you are not famous. Looking at your bank balance and asking yourself if you can or can’t afford a loaf. Checking your Facebook and seeing if you pay anyone to be your friend. Looking at your genitals to check if you are currently having sex with Lindsay Lohan, or checking your Google Calendar to see if there any fortnightly appointments that fall under the titles “dietician”, “therapist”, “botox”, “dentist”, or “dermatologist”.

See famous fancy bitches don’t have to deal with common folks things like human looking skin, or teefs that age – because they are famous, fool!

So It should be any surprise that in the world of the rich and famous, shady side-eye moments don’t happen in Costco or at the ATM, they happen at the Dermatologist.

Beyonce was just popping by the dermatologist for her fortnightly top up of botox and filler when she bumped into Kim Kardashian, and like most of the universe, Beyonce enjoyed small-talk with Kim K about as much as she enjoyed the time when Kelly Rowland was allowed to speak in interviews.

Apparently, according to Radar Online Kim is totally obsessed with Beyonce and when she bumped into her she fangirled the fuck out, to which Beyonce was like ‘Oh i obviously have to go back to the dermatologist as there is a giant ass pimple I clearly haven’t removed’.

According to the report, Beyonce was more interested in checking in with Michelle Williams than talking to Kim, and who can blame her – because with all the toxic poison in her face Beyonce must have been worried about a bio-hazard  if she came into contact with the one person entirely formed from toxic poison.

Apparently straight afterwards, Kim went in and asked to have EXACTLY what Beyonce had. The surgeon was probably like, well we can’t shave 20 years off of your actual age, but how about we just inject some stuff you can’t pronounce instead?


Behold the glittering Belle of the McDonalds Wedding

Behold the glittering Belle of the McDonalds Wedding

I know Kim Kardashicant and Gay Fish are sitting weeping today, because they know that their wedding event of the millennium has just been OUTDID.

Behold, the glittering west-country belle from the wedding of the CENTURY Emily Asher and her dashing debonair husband Steven.

Emily and Steven presumably turned down deals from Vogue and Marie Claire to cover their wedding to instead talk to  about their exquisite nuptials which ended in a gorgeous reception in the most esteemed restaurant in all of Cribbs Causeway Retail Park where guests ate such varied meals as the Chicken Royale and the Big Mac.


Proving that money truly is no object when it comes to bringing joy and unfiltered elegance to any occasion, the reception cost the couple just £150.00 and will without a doubt be 1000% more delicious that the Fois Gras shit that Kimye will serve at their wedding.

Steven proposed after a ‘string of burger-based dates’ which sounds to me like every other Casanova in the world can GO HOME now because no one will beat this god amongst romantics. I remember I went to a McDonalds for a date once. And by that I mean some tall Swedish guy picked me up in his car at 1am in my pajamas, told me he’d show me how to drive his car, and then screamed at me for doing everything wrong as I basically smashed his vehicle into anything stationery in a McDonalds car park for 20 minutes.

Who says that McDonalds isn’t the start of something beautiful?

Bryan Singer accused of sexual abuse

Bryan Singer accused of sexual abuse

So in ‘News I’d rather avoid with a ten foot barge pole so I’m going to leave it to someone else’ news, Hollywood director and mogul Bryan Singer has been accused of raping and sexually abusing a then-minor as part of a Hollywood drug and sex ring run by a convicted paedophile according to the Hollywood Reporter.

The man could be innocent. The man could be guilty.

Ultimately, the grand jury of blogs will decide, but this one in particular will not get involved with that mess until substantial damning evidence to support either side comes out.

These legal cases are so fucking messy. On one hand you could have Singer levying his power and pointing the finger of fame-whore at the accuser either because its either true or because it’s his best and only defence, which is kind of exactly what is happening right now, and on the other hand you have Michael F. Egan , a man of no notable name trying to leverage publicity either for personal gain or to utilize so his case is heard against a Hollywood titan, which is also exactly what is happening right now. What the truth is? That’s anyone’s guess.

Michael F. Egan III

What is clear though is that timing is suspiciously close to a new major movie release from Singer, though what is also clear is that as early as 2007 Radar Online documented Bryan Singer’s close ties with the head of the paedophile ring in question - Marc Collins-Rector, with many details of what happened in the Collins-Rector case mirroring the accusations now being levied against Singer.

Easy enough to formulate a fake case if you’ve read the Radar article, but also easy enough to be one of the victims of Collins Rector and now have trouble having the world believe you because your up against a well-loved director. It perhaps isn’t working in Singer’s favour that whisperings of his preference for the younger side of the scale have been circulating online for some time.

So that’s probably all we’re going to say on that one.

Michael appears to have had a small role in one episode of an online web series, which is pretty fucking terrible.



Kurt Coleman is PERFECT and you could never.

Kurt Coleman is PERFECT and you could never.

When someone calls themselves the “Paris Hilton Of…” anything you know that this person by all reasonable means should either be euthanized or placed in the Brit Brit Mental Hold in a high security hospital as they are a danger to society, to their friends, to their families – and most importantly, to their lovers.

Meet Kurt Coleman. He describes himself as “The Paris Hilton of Australia” which would mean that Australia just got a lot more crabs on its beaches.

LA Deli reader Suzanne recently brought to my attention Buzzfeed’s post which brought to her attention Kurt Coleman’s instagram which brings to everyone’s attention that Kurt Coleman is drinking the Anna Wintour Delusional Kool-Aid because Kurt thinks hes PERFECT and the rest of the world is jealous of his glamour and beauty.

Kurt not only thinks he’s perfect. He thinks he’s amazing. Like a higher being in life, or actress Bai Ling.

Kurt has over 170,000 followers on Facebook, but Kendall Jenner has over 6 Million likes on Facebook so at this stage i think If I made a page for a floppy used dildo it’d get a couple of million likes.enhanced-14083-1397606038-21

Kurt also likes spray tans, which is not initially obvious.

He’s also a total genius and understands that we are, essentially, aliens.

Let’s face it, Paris Hilton is a total basic bitch compared to Kurt.

Kurt Coleman ladies and gentleman, the end of society as we know it.

Thanks to Suzanne for the tip off, Buzzfeed for doing my job for me, and Kurt Coleman – because it’s been a slow news week.

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