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Courtney Stodden cleans up well.

Rihanna’s just prepping for her upcoming role as Whitney Houston in a biopic about her tumultuous relationship with Bobby Brown. Having your face bashed repeatedly by the same lover? So method.

And I was like, “No, President Clinton! I appreciate you want to save me millions by supporting the extension of Bush era tax cuts, but you can not touch my tits!”

…..I kid, you can totally touch my tits.

I’m a chick, so that penis in my butt makes me less of a gay, more of a whore. Amiright?

That’s no kiss! Chris is simply a professional taster of face. Having previously acquainted his palate with the bitter flavor of Rihanna’s left ear, the next obvious step is to compare said flavor with a traditionally sweeter taste of cheek.

Fish, forget your Hunger Games hypothesis. Tony Scott killed himself literally days after Amanda transformed into Alabama Worley. That’s the most solid fucking explanation I can think of. His suicide note was simply “You’re so not cool” scribbled on a napkin soaked in his tears.

I was at this shoot yesterday! They invaded the beach cove my friends and I were swimming at. They didn’t have a permit to shut down the beach, but they kept making us move. It wasn’t very Aloha of them. We took some pictures of Nicki’s ass, but the quality isn’t nearly as good as it is in these.

“And for the reading portion of tonight, I’ve chosen Chapter 9: Savoring the Flav.” Upon seductively removing her dentures, she proceeds to eagerly glide her tongue along the length of the mic, never once breaking eye contact with her horrified audience.

“My stylist warned me not to expose myself to frigid temperatures in this dress. Wooooooopsies!”