Amy Winehouse dragged herself off the hospital respirator long enough to sing at Nelson Mandela's birthday and at the Glastonbury Music Festival this weekend, where she gave one of her most, um, 'exceptional' performances.
The singing was okay, but Amy's real performance highlights were
wearing cocktail umbrellas in her hair, punching a fan, spitting gum at
the crowd, calling Jay-Z outdated and Kanye West the C-word, and getting mad at the audience because, surprise, they booed Blake Fielder-Civil.
You'd think after hearing audiences boo your boyfriend at three or
four concerts before this, you'd just stop talking about him. But not Amy Winehouse. Nope - this girl, as we all know - is
no quitter...
'Boo me one more time and I'll find you and your phone and call your
mum and tell her you ain't got no manners,' she threatened before hawking a chunk of her pink gum.
Then it was time to insult her fellow Gastonbury performer Jay-Z with a backhanded compliment and simultaneous knock on Kanye West. 'Jay-Z's got some front to come here with tunes you
don't even remember,' Amy said, telling the audience to 'be grateful you aren't getting Kanye West - he's a c*nt.'
The grand finale to Amy's set featured her dancing into a mosh pit and getting mad when, oddly, fans tried to touch her. Check out the popwreck's feisty response below:
I wouldn't put Amy's audience attack in the same 'noble' category asTim McGraw, but according to her people, the elbow smack was totally justified. Because a man grabbed Amy's boobs. Or her hair. One of the two. Her 'people' don't really seem to have made up their minds which yet.
Meanwhile, Amy's already back at the hospital
getting that 70% of her remaining lung capacity treated for
emphysema - yes, the disease that normally doesn't afflict people
under the age of 60. The delightful end to a typical week in the life!
Could Violet Affleck and Jennifer Garner look any more alike??
The two-year-old looks like a miniature version of Jen, but with blonde hair, a weird fetish for mannequins, and 'unique' taste in clothes.
The mommy and daughter spent their Thursday roaming around Lake Shrine - a Gandhi peace memorial in L.A. - and just being entirely photogenic together.
Benjamin was nowhere in sight, but hold the phone people, their rep already told y'all earlier this week. JEN AND BEN are NOT splitting up.
Who would eff up a little girl as cute as Violet with divorce and shiz?? Ok, it happens all the time. But apparently not yet with these two. They're 'the real deal.'
At
least, until Ben's sleazy side comes out of hibernation and he is caught
pants down with a tranny between legs.
After my last two mildly perverted posts (and accidentally watching Mini-Me's sex tape this morning), I decided it was time for something totally different. Something sweet and innocent. Wholesome, even.
Enter Katherine Heigl
- America's would-be sweetheart if she wasn't an arrogant bitch.
The perfect antithesis to sex, drugs, and misogyny. Hell, the actress
doesn't even like 'sexist' movies.
I uploaded the pictures, I watched the video of a fully-clothed
Katherine smiling and laughing with her dear friendT.R. Knight (below), and I felt warm
and fuzzy amidst a sex-crazed world.
But somewhere between my heartwarming sigh of relief and uploading the
good-girl's photos, I got distracted by Katherine's entirely enviable rack.
Breasts you can squeeze. Breasts that jiggle. REAL, silicone-free, 100% woman, perfectly proportioned breasts.
So, ladies and gentleman, the moral of the story is there is no
escaping sex, no matter how hard you try. It is inside your head, it is
inside your heart, and now, it is all over the is post. Enjoy...
Here's three-foot, nine-inch Bridget Powerz caught in a messy wardrobe malfunction while leaving Seven nightclub in West Hollywood last night.
Well, 'wardrobe malfunction' is what the photo's caption said, but I'm not sure that's an entirely accurate description.
Is it still called a 'wardrobe malfunction' when a nip-slip victim purposely pulls down her dress??
NSFW pictures of the porn-star midget after the jump, but first, Bridget and the rest of her band, 'Blakkout' have some crucial advice for you on safe sex:
Um, yeah...I'm pretty sure Bridg wants you to wear a condom...
So I have to confess one of my deep, dark secrets....for a very long time, I was one of those people who fantasized about Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake getting back together. I saw the signs that it was over - Justin whining and hoe-naming her in his music, Britney marrying white trash while Justin snagged Scarlett Johansson, Britney 'entertaining' with on-stage orgies while Justin danced, joked, and produced.
The truth hurts sometimes, man, and I just didn't want to see it. But after hearing some new info. about Justin's 'complicated' ass (and years of therapy), I can finally accept that it never would have worked out between them.
Turns out, Justin is kinda crazy too.
The pop boy recently threw himself a pity party telling people about how tough his life is because he's an obsessive compulsive lunatic. Plus, he's been diagnosed with ADD like every other kid in America.
'I have OCD mixed with ADD. You try living with that. It's complicated,' he whined.
What Justin means to say is that, when his publicist isn't around, he's THAT weirdo in the corner biting his fingernails in acute pain over the disorganization of his closet.
And in case ya hadn't noticed, Brit Brit is kind of a slob. Or entirely. So, if those two had stayed together, Justin would probably also be bi-polar as a result of picking up her dirty underwear socks everyday for ten years.
Now it all makes sense! I can stop paying my therapist $200 a week! Champagne for everyone.
Pictures of Justin walking around his Brentwood hood with not-crazy girlfriend Jessica Biel and his doggy yesterday below...
The King of Gossip showed off the downsides of being a workaholic yesterday
when he dined alone at Wolfgang Puck in Beverly Hills, with only his brand
new convertible to keep him company.
Ryan Seacrest's entertainment empire has him spread so thin that homeboy barely has time to trim his nose hairs, let alone get a girlfriend.
In addition to hosting American Idol, E! News, and a bunch of other shit, Ryan has to get up at 3 AM every freaking morning to blabber on an
L.A. radio station for five hours.
Which means he has to be in bed by 7 PM just to get that 'full night's sleep' my mom keeps talking about.
What a miserable existence.
Oh wait, I forgot. Ryan loves the attention. And he thrives on being busy. And, most importantly, he makes $15 million a year, which means he could potentially retire as fast as I can down a pint of Cookie Dough ice cream (really effing fast).
But couldn't he have at least brought an assistant with him to din din??
