Two years ago, Christina Aguilera was a tubby brunette mess mostly famous for videos that looked a lot like one of those interracial gangbang pornos that I've never downloaded. But now she's the only sane voice in pop music, which I guess is kind of cool, regardless of how pathetically low that bar may be. It's like winning "Cutest Necrophiliac." It ain't much, but, hey man, you won!

Oh, uhh, I should probably mention the point to all this, and it's that Christina donated a few dozen micro chip ID scanners to humane societies in her hometown of Wexford, a suburb northwest of Pittsburgh. Meanwhile, Britney burned down an orphanage while cackling maniacally and J.Lo released a migrant worker in the woods so she could hunt the deadliest prey of all ... MAN! (cue dramatic "Dun-Dun-Dun" music)




Thanks to Fonso for the link. And please tell me it's okay that these Mickey Mouse pictures give me a raging hard on.

Moviefone is exclusively hosting the last trailer for this summer's War of the Worlds, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Tom Cruise, and it looks pretty damn great. If you don't know the basic story, Moviefone has a description:

"When (Cruise's) small-town existence is shaken violently by the arrival of Martians bent on sending Earth into oblivion, he must come to the defense of his children, overcoming an even more potent enemy -- the demons that lurk within."

Actually, go ahead and ignore that description, because it's pretty damn dumb. I've been known to masturbate at inappropriate times, but never so hard that my 'demon within' flipped over a ferry filled with cars or incinerated an overpass. And I've really had at myself a few times. Like that quiet time in my bedroom. Except replace the word "quiet" with "drunk" and "bedroom" with "Taco Bell drive-thru". It was such a buzz-kill when that cock-blocker behind the counter knocked on my window and said, "Sir ... you can't do that here." That's not how my fantasy went at all.

According to the unbelievably great Star magazine, friends of Avril Lavigne have begun to worry after witnessing her endless drunken antics first hand:

"One source who has known the singer since her childhood ... tells Star that she appears to be in a downward spiral. 'Avril's drinking is getting worse and worse. She's always liked to party but recently all she wants to do is get drunk. And when she gets drunk she wants to fight and cause trouble. She's turning into a nightmare!'"

Avril is 5'3", maybe a hundred pounds, so I don't know how much trouble she could really stir up. One good punch should tuck her in for the night. My extensive study of drunk suburban white girls has taught me that they're unlikely to morph into a bionic fighting tiger and extremely likely to curl up on the curb and vomit. So the only trouble would be for the curb. And since I tripped on a curb the other night and then fell down in a comedic way, I have no problem seeing those smart-asses taken down a peg.

The only rewarding part of seeing drunk hillbillies stumble into undeserved wealth is that they think millions of dollars just kinda shows up when you wish upon a rainbow. Based on the Economics degree I don't have, that's not how it works at all. Two years ago, her anus was every 15 year old boys secret playground and the cash just magically piled up. Now she's a trampy drunken lump and it's all about to go away. And she has no idea. It's like watching someone read a paper as they walk down the street with their nuts perfectly aligned with that parking meter that ain't movin'. The latest in the long list of obvious signs that the end is near comes from the just released ratings of her reality show Chaotic. Reality TV World has the story:

"...the show's one-hour premiere proved to be a largely buzzless bust for the network, with its Tuesday, May 17 9-10PM ET/PT broadcast averaging only 3.66 million viewers, a 1.9/5 rating/share in the Adults 18-49 demographic, and a 2.7/7 rating/share in Adults 18-34."

"Jennifer Lopez shocked fans ... this weekend when she wore a T-shirt bearing the words "Fuck It!". The diva stunned concert organizers with the crass slogan on a black cropped-top at the eighth annual Wango Tango pop festival in California on Saturday."

J.Lo's charming contempt for the parents who paid for their 12 year old girls to make up the audience at Wango Tango is obviously delightful, but it doesn't quite explain the rest of this outfit. Or why she's sweatin' like an Alabama mule. And there's a homeless woman down the street from me who has an artificial eye that's actually just a ping-pong ball that she drew on with a sharpie, and I've seen her eat a cigarette off the ground and chase a cat - probably for dinner - but I've never seen her go out with her hair looking as bad as that mystery on top of J.Los head. Never hire a beaver as a hairstylist, I don't care how charming he is during the interview.

My brain and it's powerful Aristotelian logic can't even begin to wrap itself around the crazy world that would elect Billy Zane President, but once again my penis proves who's boss and endorsees this since it would mean Kelly Brook would be First Lady. Leading to an unprecedented amount of masturbating at government press conferences. Unless you count the 70's style orgies that break out every time Secretary of Transportation and of My Heart Norman Mineta steps behind a podium. Man, that guy is dreamy!

Star magazine is reporting that the marriage between Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey is finished. A friend of Nick says: "Nick and Jessica may be separated," adding. "I know their publicists and managers are trying to figure everything out in terms of their careers, but it seems like there's no more marriage." The unaccredited quote makes the story above reproach obviously, and no one loves Star more than me, but keep in mind that Star will say just about anything. The story feels real though, since Jessica is way too much for Nick Lachey. It's embarrassing enough to be in a successful boy band, but being in a failed boy band is a lot like being an 'attempted child molester'. You failed despite matching wits with a 10 year old and you should probably be ripped apart by horses just for trying.

Most of my time is spent either smooching supermodels or dominating fight clubs, so I don't really have time to confirm every source and verify every story that gets submitted to us. And here's one of those stories now, about the new Mr. Renee Zellwegger and his promising future as a transvestite. The reader didn't include a real name, but they seem pretty smart, as many of the words were spelled correctly, so I'll go ahead and guarantee that the story after the jump is 100 percent true:

"Since Kenny Chesney has been in recent news, I thought I'd share this little piece of info...

Last summer I was in Nashville eating dinner with a good friend who works out with Chesney's ex-trainer. Apparently, the trainer said Kenny has pectoral implants, in other words, Kenny has a boob job! Ironically, he can't actually lift heavy object due to the implants. I'm sure if you peruse through photos of Chesney you'll find quite a dramatic difference from the days when he was first beginning to present day. My friend, a musician who writes songs for several well-known country artists, claims that Kenny is like the 'Britney Spears of country music'. He really isn't that great of a singer and everyone makes fun of him.

As a native Knoxvillian, I know a lot of people who grew up with Kenny... and no one likes him. Let's just say he glorifies the term 'white trash.'

Also, his father, a gym coach at a local primary school, tells dirty jokes and makes highly inappropriate comments to all the female employees (one of them being my mother). He's a very classy individual."



All credit to 'Abs' for the story. Especially if it's all a pack of horrible lies.