W ho invited Megan Fox to the Golden Globes?
(More importantly, who invited Mel Gibson? Lookin' at you, Jodi Foster.)
While gracing the February issue of Esquire in sheer lingerie, she said in the interview that she hates fame.
"I don't think people understand. They all think we should shut the fuck up and stop complaining because you live in a big house or you drive a Bentley. So your life must be so great."
No. We don't understand. You should shut the fuck up.
Let's discuss the adage, "more money, more problems" ("mo money, mo problems," laymen).
I have no money and I have problems. So if I have more money, color me piqued to discover what said "more problems" subsist. I am more than willing to experiment.
Meanwhile, donning a pole-dancing getup and popping sexed-up poses for the magazine's photo shoot, she also said that she felt "powerless" with her sexy image early on in her career and that it "devalued" her:
"I wasn't anything I was an image. I was a picture. I was a pose."
Don't worry, sugar, we still see you as an ungrateful bitch.
Justin Timberlake released his first single in more than six years on Monday, "Suit & Tie," featuring Jay-Z.
Haven't heard it, but the lyrics look breathtaking:
"I be on my suit and tie shit, tie shit, tie/ I be on my suit and tie shit, tie shit/ Can I show you a few things?"
Well JT, for starters, pray tell me what tie shit is?
Timberlake is using his new single to re-launch Myspace. The singer took a stake in the failing social network company in 2011 to help make it relevant again.
Relevant? He-seus. (That's Spanish for Jesus.)
I can't quite remember because I haven't logged into my account for decades, but I'm pretty sure my password is 2004istheshit.
Way to bring sexy back, JT.
Drop your drawers and grab your toes.
Britney's going to show you where her greasy finger goes.
Spears is single. Her ex-agent fiancé Jason Trawick couldn't take the hick anymore.
Remember when Brit canned him as her manager so he could be the processed cheese to her Cheetos? The faux fur to her Uggs? The fleece to her sweatpant, if you will.
So now he's screwed -- no job, no broad and that itchy stigma that all of Brit's exes carry around with them -- size Venti. No, Trenta.
(Oh, and probably no more free Starbucks.)
But on a neat note, our favorite panty-less pop fart is looking for a man to shave her toes.
Check JT's Myspace page for updates.
Speaking of hicks
Miley Cyrus has a sister named Noah.
Noah turned 13 on Tuesday and celebrated her entrance into the wide world of puberty at a Hollywood nightclub in a mini-dress.
Billy Ray, your fatherly duties are taking a backseat to your chin pubes. Put the frosting pen down and spank your teen.