Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Eric Fructuoso kisses and tells

Because a has-been like Eric Fructuoso isn't material meaty enough for a post, I cannot write anything about him without mentioning his former group, the Gwapings. And so I scoured the net for photos of the defunct pogi boy group...and failed miserably. Try it: Go to Google Images, type "Gwapings", and voila! Nothing! Well, except for a couple of loser photos and even some so horrific they could only be images of HELL.


Bugs Bunny was so horny he'd hump an Easter egg basket




(No, really. These pictures popped up on Google Images when I searched for the Gwapings) Anyway, so where was I? Ah, yes, Eric Fructuoso.




Apparently, like most dumbasses desperate to revive their non-existent showbiz careers, this sleaze-meister apparently was on DJ Mo Twister's "Forbidden Questions" segment. And being the douche that he is, he just had to kiss and tell—by revealing the names of the actresses he's slept with—as if his mommy would pinch his bird if he didn't. According to PEP:

One of the earlier questions asked sa "Forbidden Questions" was if he had slept with anyone famous, Eric answered more than his fingers. Nang ipina-enumerate na sa kanya, ang mga isinagot ni Eric ay si Ara, along with Abby Viduya (Priscilla Almeda na ngayon), Joyce Jimenez, at Aubrey Miles. Nagpatiuna pa nga si Eric na hindi raw dapat "slept with" kundi "making love" dahil may respeto siya sa mga babaeng nakasiping niya.

You know what's the most hilarious thing about this whole shit? The word "siping." Say it with me: siping. Si-ping. Siping! Siping! Siping!

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Halle Berry gets emo



Because having a rocking body and being rich is not enough reason to go on living, Oscar-winning actress Halle Berry divulged that she indeed considered committing suicide. In an article on People.com, it says:


"Berry, 40, admits to Parade magazine that she tried to gas herself when her fiery union to Atlanta Braves baseball star David Justice collapsed, but pulled out at the last minute."


Say what? She tried to gas herself? She wanted to kill herself with gas? Can't imagine what that's like? Allow me to help you visualize what Ms. Halle would've done.


Step 1: Make friends with a taco-eating, burrito-wielding Mehikano. Make sure you're like BFFs and shit.




Step 2: BFFs go out and all, so, go out and all. Pretend to be fascinated with his culture so if he asks where you want to eat, tell him, "I want your people's food."



Step 3: Eat with much gusto, then ask for extra beans. Because you want to eat your burrito just like your friend's "people."


Bigote: sexy


Step 4: Strip down to your underwear. Do some exercises to jiggle the beans in your digestive system. Have a paper bag within reach. When you feel the air come out, position the paper bag on your ass.




Step 5: Then just gas yourself.




That's what Halle Berry could've done. But maybe she chickened out at the last minute because she couldn't find it in her heart to ruin her diet with a burrito. Or make friends with a Mexican.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Some dude broadcasts his virginity

Tacky seat covers double as men's blouses;
and the guy at the back is so appalled he has to close his eyes as he cringes



In the tradition of posts about reality artista search dudes doing really stupid things, enter Fred Payawan. Fred who? Panopio? No! Payawan.


According to a PEP article bluntly titled Fred Payawan Admits He Is Still A Virgin, apparently that Fred person was in DJ Mo Twister's "Forbidden Questions" segment and, you guessed it, he admitted that his pee-pee has remained untouched—by another person/woman/man/animal. And before going smart-ass on me and insisting that the Pinoy Big Brother Teen Edition isn't a reality search (yeah, that's where Freddie's from—just found out now, too), don't tell me all the kids there joined for the sake of "experience."


So, yeah, anyway, he's announced he hasn't been laid his entire life. But I'm guessing people are more baffled about who the fuck this person is.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

American Idol does the Philippines

"He farted, not I!"


This season of American Idol is a snoozefest. Of course there are undeniably talented contestants—not to mention the token rocker, the token sex symbol, the token talented big black singer, and the token sucky singer. (And of course, I'll still watch each and every episode) But the funny thing is, even if some of AI's singers suck, they sing way better than some of our very own reality TV slash singing contest winners. See, here in the Philippines, I absolutely don't get why everyone's trying to sound like Regine Velasquez. Is being an overrated singer like the measure of singing success here? There's a difference between a high-pitched shriek and singing, you know.


But anyway, you know what would be awesome? If the AI judges Randy, Paula, and Simon would drag their asses over here to critique the crap out of our talent contest winners. Oh! And whaddayaknow? They just did!


Terenterenten terenteren tereeeeen (or whatever that sounds like the AI theme song)...


Ryan Seacrest: First up, we have Sheryn Regis singing "Come In Out Of The Rain"!


Randy: Ya know, it was aiiiight. A little pitchy in some spots, it wasn't bad. Just a little pitchy. It was just okay for me, dawg.


Paula: *hic!* First, I have to say that you look beautiful tonight. Your dress, jewelry, makeup, and especially the cosmetic surgery. You look beautiful! *hic!*


Simon: Wendy Moten, the original voice behind the song, is probably wailing wherever she is right now. Remember, this is a singing competition, not a shouting competition. Very karaoke, it was ghastly!


Ryan Seacrest: Next is Rachelle Ann Go, performing "Don't Cry Out Loud."


Randy: Yeah, well, it was an okay performance. Watch out for your vibrato when you go, "Don't cry out loud. Just keep it insayiyiyiyide," ya know? You're not Axl Rose. For me dawg, it didn't really blow me away. It was just, ya know, aiiiight.


Paula: Wow, that dress! You look so beautiful. You're radiant. You really shine on stage. You look like a star. Your rhinoplasty is terrific. *hic!*


Simon: I don't mean to be rude, but it was very cabaret, too karaoke for me, very unoriginal, like a performer in some Filipino singing contest. Uhm, yeah.


Ryan Seacrest: Now here's Jonalyn Viray with "Get Here."


Randy: There were a couple of pitch problems here and there. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't just working for me. It was just aiiight, dawg.


Paula: You look amazing tonight. That dress looks incredible on you. You're a beautiful person in and out.


Simon: It was just okay. You sing okay, you hit the notes, but you're completely forgettable. What's your name again? Jonalyn? Maybe if you spell it with an H, people would remember you.


Ryan Seacrest: Let's welcome Frenchie Dy with "Raindrops Will Fall."


Randy: Props to our background singers! Listen, Frenchie, ya know, it was an okay performance. A little pitchy in some spots, ya know, you don't have to oversing some parts. It wasn't that good for me. It was aiiight.


Paula: [Cries] Whatever these guys say, you look absolutely stunning. You're beautiful! *hic!*


Simon: The dress, the song, they make you look older. Let's be honest here, it just wasn't that good and I think you'll be in trouble tomorrow. And truly, raindrops will fall as the heavens will cry their bloody eyes out after that awful performance.


Ryan Seacrest: And last but not the least, Erik Santos with "This Is The Moment."


Randy: It was good, a little pitchy in some spots, but it was aiiight.


Paula: Teehee! You're cute! *hic!*


Simon: You will sell more albums than any Idol contestant in the face of the planet—if you promise to include naked pictures of yourself and your crushes Sam Milby and Piolo Pascual doing yoga or something in your album cover.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Echo tries to make music



This is old news, but I just want to remind everyone that Jericho Rosales is in a band. With an album. I'd like to say that Jeans, Echo's (yeah, we're close) band, follows in the pansy footsteps of fellow pogi band Hale, but every time I see Echo's three bandmates and feel no urge whatsoever to throw them against the wall and rip their clothes off (and the thought makes me want to hurl instead), hell no, they're no pogi rock band. In fact, it seems that Eat Bulaga Mr. Pogi himself Echo deliberately picked out three nasty looking dudes to be in his band because humping the life out of Heart Evangelista every freaking day just isn't enough to appease the little insecure part of him (the one that used to be a simple joe who didn't speak in English during interviews, unlike now who's all English-spokening and an artiste at that).


What the hell was EMI Philippines thinking signing up these clowns into a stable of artists that include Bamboo, Sugarfree, The Bloomfields, Urbandub, Hale... er, okay.


Anyway, apparently Mr. Pogi simpleton turned Inglisero-artsy fartsy homeboy wrote all the songs in the album. Maybe trying so fucking hard to comprehend his moneyed girlfriend's English made him believe that he's some rich kid, too, or worse, Shakespeare. And one of the songs he wrote was made into a duet with the girlfriend. Awww. Not. Check out the lyrics:


YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL
(Jericho Rosales)

Haaaaaaaa, haaaayayayayy...
Haaaaaaaa, haaaayayayayy...
And I can’t believe I found you
And I can’t believe I’m with you
You’re so beautiful, so beautiful
You’re so beautiful

And I found the right words to say
And I like to feel this way
It’s so beautiful, so beautiful
It’s so beautiful

And I... Hay...
And I... Hay...
I... Hay...
I... Hay...
I... Hay..
Hoooh...2x

(Instrumental)

Hoooh...2x

And I found you
And I love you
And I surrender
I surrender
I love you...
I love you...
I love you...


What the flying fuck is that? He types the word "beautiful" and the phrase "I love you" and copies and pastes it onto practically every line and that's supposed to make him an English-speaking artist-writer-musician? And he thinks breathing out loudly through his mouth is a freaking word that he just has to include it in the lyrics, like over and over again? Excuse me, but if that makes him an English-speaking artist-writer-musician, then I must be a better English-speaking artist-writer-musician!


YOU’RE EFFIN' UGLY
(Miss Diss)

Wooooo, woohoooo...
Wooooo, woohoooo...
I knew I'd find youuuu woooooh
I knew this day would come, yeeeeaaaah
You’re so ugly, so effin' ugly
You’re so effin' ugly
Fugly in short

And I found the right words to say
Because I'm witty this way
It’s so beautiful, so beautiful
It’s so beautiful
But I'm not talking about you
Woooooh...
Because you're fugly
Yiiiiiih...

And I... Hay...
And I... Hay...
I... Hay...
I... Hay...
I... Hay...
Zzzzzzz...
Ngork...
I meant
Hoooh...2x

(Instrumental)

Zzzzzzz...
Ngork...
I meant
Hoooh...2x

And I found you
Because fugliness stands out from the crowd
And I love you
Because you make me look beautiful beside you
And I surrender
I surrender
My backpack at the baggage counter
Because they'll think I'll steal groceries
From the supermarket at Megamall
Like a box of Jar matches, Dragon Katol, and all items SM Bonus
I hate you...
I hate you...
Babayoo...


WTF.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Trump stomps on beauty queen's dreams



This is for entertainment purposes only and doesn’t reflect actual events of people known to author other than fictitious aspects of her silly brilliant mind. Unless you really believe that I happened to overhear someone's conversation with Le Trump. In Meheeko. Anyway, any similarities are purely coincidental and unintentional.



Somewhere in Mexico a few days before the Miss Universe 2007 pageant...


Brown-raced beauty queen (BBQ): Mr. Trump! Mr. Trump! How could this be? Why didn't I pass the preliminary round? This is unconstitutional! I graduated with honors in college! I am eloquent! I will become a future liar! Er, lawyer!

Donald Trump (BHD—Bad Hair Day): I am the god of the Miss Universe Organization. I have a wife with lovely norks.

BBQ: But Mr. Trump! I object! That has no connection whatsoever with my concern!

BHD: It's got everything to do with your petty concern. See, according to Wikipedia, the Miss Universe pageant was established in 1952—by a swimsuit company. Of course, at that time it sucked because I wasn't the god of the Miss Universe Organization back then. But anyway, yes, a swimsuit company.

BBQ: But I plead not guilty to your bizarre testimony!

BHD: I'm not done, low-pitched whiny bitch. Before I was rudely interrupted—which in my world, is enough reason for me to fire your skinny ass—as I said it was founded by a swimsuit maker. Thus, the preliminary round consists of the swimsuit competition.

BBQ: And so?

BHD: You're fired! I mean, you have no tits.

BBQ: Your reasoning is non sequitur! So what if I don't have huge gazongas? I am intelligent!

BHD: This is a beauty pageant. Read my Trump lips: bee-yoo-tee. You're a pretty girl, yes, but so is that burrito-eating hooker over there.

BBQ: Where?

BHD: There.

BBQ: Okay.

BHD: Okay.

BBQ: And?

BHD: And she's not a Miss Universe contestant. Even if she has big boobies.

BBQ: But that's exactly my argument! The distinguished panel of judges such as the "Bad Boy of Philippine Cinema" and some sexy actor grown men love wanking to can see how awesome I am! And I am a frickin' law student from our country's premier university. That should count for something.

BHD: I don't give a flying fuck if you're a law student from your third-world premier university. You're as flat as your sash. You can't properly fill a swimsuit unless you stuff it with torn pages from your law books. Or pieces of uncooked chicken thighs.

BBQ: How about the preliminary one-on-one interview, then? I delivered our valedictory speech, you know! Didn't I do well what with my intellectual reasoning and all?

BHD: Leave the declamation shtick to the Little Miss Philippines talent portion. You have no jugs.

BBQ: But cross examine me if you will, and you'll see that I'm the total package apt for the Miss Universe title!

BHD: The total package minus the funbags.

BBQ: You're unfair! This can't be! I'm an achiever! I will not sleep at night knowing I didn't ace something! I do not settle for anything less than excellent because I am on a plane beyond the mundane! Mediocrity is the pits! "Okay" is never all right! I am an outstanding member of society and I cannot settle for being a fucking Miss Universe reject! Mr. Trump! May I just remind you, I am an honors graduate! A law student! A Promil child, if you must!

BHD: Well, now that you've mentioned it, despite your non-existent rack, I think you'd do well...

BBQ: See? I told you! I'm that brainy I know everything!

BHD: ...in The Apprentice.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

James Yap dog-styles some chick

"Duh... uh... ngggguh... huhhhh..."



So right now in showbiz, the only thing louder than Kris Aquino's mouth is news that her basketball player husband, James Yap, cheated on her with some nurse named Hope. Okay, fine, pretend all you want that you don't give a shit about this bit of gossip, but do continue to read this post for its entertainment value, LOL.


Well, for one, take a look at this article about the issue; it's the funniest shit I've ever read after Sammy's interview and my most recent post.


"Sa pag-uusap nila ng Startalk host na si Lolit Solis at entertainment writer na si Gorgy Rula, nag-ala-Monica Lewinsky si Hope nang aminin nito na literal na 'nilunok' niya ang lahat sa tuwing nagkakaroon sila ni James ng physical contact.

Si Monica ang intern na nagkaroon noon ng relasyon kay former US President Bill Clinton at nagdetalye sa media ng oral sex act niya sa asawa ni former First Lady Hilary Clinton." -from PEP.ph



The story already got me at "nilunok," but the whole explanation about Monica Lewinsky was a real hoot. Oh, and here's the best part...


"Hindi malaman ni Lolit ang magiging reaksyon sa naging sagot ni Hope nang itanong niya kung paano nila nairaos ni James sa loob ng isang maliit na kuwarto ang kanilang makamundo na pagnanasa. Ang sagot ng straightforward at honest na si Hope? 'Dog-style po, Manay.'"



How Xerex the way they wrote it! But you know, honestly, I feel bad for Kris. After all the shit she's been through, this is just way too much considering she's pregnant. And she's Kris fucking Aquino. Aquino! So, James Yap, let it be known that you're a fucking douche. Off with your cock!



But since castration is such an icky thought to end this post with, here's my theory on why James prefers to "dog-style" Hope. Well, if you look like this:






Then, chances are, you have no other choice but to bang chicks this way:



Monday, February 12, 2007

Shitty flooring

Actual news, folks. And I must say, I'm not shitting you.

"DETROIT - Home-buyers of tomorrow could find themselves walking across floors made from manure. Researchers at Michigan State University and the U.S. Department of Agriculture insist it's no cow pie in the sky dream.

They say that fiber from processed and sterilized cow manure could take the place of sawdust in making fiberboard, which is used to make everything from furniture to flooring to store shelves.
" -GMANews.tv


Bhobby refused to admit it was he who farted


I don't know with you guys, but it's probably not so bad having processed cow dung as your flooring. I mean, I could have parquet out of shredded pages off Cosmo's 69 Bachelors supplement or a torn 24x30-inch poster of this photo...




...with Sam Milby's spunk and a couple of his pubes on them and I'd just be as grossed out.


And speaking of my favorite skeleton-in-the-closet person, have you seen this Sunday's Starweek?




And I quote the accompanying article:

"For our interview and photo shoot, Sam came prepared with several changes of clothes and a make-up kit. He knew exactly what kind of make-up should be used on him."

Gee, I wonder why!

Thursday, February 08, 2007

I love you, Piolo! Sam, too!

Erik's center of gravity wasn't the only thing that confused him



Now this is the actual title of the news bit: "Erik chooses Piolo and Sam over Rufa Mae." I'm not shitting you. Now I don't know about you guys, but that in itself sets off a ding in my head that there's something quite suspicious about that Erik Santos character. Not that joining and singing ballads in a singing contest on national TV isn't iffy enough. But, anyway!


In the interview, he says: "Kasi kaibigan ko si Piolo at saka si Sam so I have to support them." Uhm, yeah, so you pick them over your girlfriend's concert performance. Your girlfriend with huge-ass funbags. You know, this girlfriend:


[Insert gratuitous vulgar boob-related witty caption]



Oh Erik with a K, only one word comes to mind: fairy. Or anal-loving-mayonnaise. I mean, people wouldn't think you were a fudgepacker if you had chosen, say, Vic Sotto and Joey de Leon over Rufa Mae. Or Mark Caguioa and Asi Taulava over Rufa Mae. Or even Steve Jobs and uhm, 50 Cent over Rufa Mae (whut!). Anyway, what can we do? You prefer these gaysguys...


"Aaaaaaah..."


"Tsup! Tsup!"


...which shouldn't be so surprising considering this is what you love to do:


Lock jaw: inconvenient

Sunday, February 04, 2007

John and Jessica sitting in a tree...

Edward Scissorhands forgot to wear eyeliner



So, apparently John Mayer and Jessica Simpson are fucking each other's brains out. Now if that first sentence is too uncouth for your goody-goody senses, what I meant was John Mayer and Jessica Simpson are dating. And probably fucking each other's brains out. Not that Jessica needs any degree of wild shagging to get her brains expelled by her body, but you get my drift.


For some reason, though, this bothers me. Because John Mayer scares me. And the thought of his fat ass crooning "Your Body Is A Wonderland" to Jessica in bed makes me picture nothing else but a sex offender about to get his filthy hands on a poor girl with a gag over her mouth. With her father (yes, the same guy who once said "[Jessica] just is sexy. If you put her in a T-shirt or you put her in a bustier, she's sexy in both. She's got double Ds! You can't cover those suckers up!") grinning, clapping, and stroking his balls beside a video camera on a tripod in the background.


I mean, can you imagine these two getting it on?




And don't get me started on how John Mayer is a talented musician and songwriter and all that fanshit. Those things don't mean shit in the sack, you know what I mean? Think of it this way: This is Jessica Simpson all oily on a really bad hair day...




And this is John Mayer being a talented musician and songwriter and all that fanshit on a really good day...


Thursday, January 18, 2007

Humping horses and stuff

Esteban wanted only one thing from Wind Blown


When I read about the new film about the man who died from shagging a horse, I laughed. And I was dying to know exactly how he fucked the poor animal. I mean, think of the possibilities. If you can't imagine it, then picture gay sex with someone with a printout of Black Beauty over his face. It could go either fucking way!


Of course I should've been more concerned about why he opted to screw an animal over a human—even a person who looks like a horse as long as he/she's got an actual human pee-pee. But sick person that I am and because I'm not bald Dr. Phil, I just had to be more interested in the lurid details. So, I Googled for horse porn and unfortunately, all I found was chicks eating horsecock (oh God, click that at your own risk; NSFW). No photos of men humping horses. And finding my ass (pun intended!) at a dead end not knowing anything more witty to say—which almost always means a retarded denouement—I resort to a Dr. Phil pretenduation (pretend + evaluation).


Society should not frown upon people who fuck animals (as long as it's consensual). It's not as bizarre as you think, as we encounter these kinds of people almost all the time:


Sex with rats:




Sex with anteaters:




Sex with roosters:




And on that note, might as well sex with chickens, too:




Sex with dogs:




Any other animals in mind?

Friday, January 12, 2007

Sam Milby can't deny he's gay

...if his life depended on it.


Oh, Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. Even if your so-called friends defend you, why can't you deny you're gay? Is it because, good heavens, you do suck cock and like being shagged from behind? Your interview was the most fucking hilarious thing I've ever read since I've re-read my latest blog post. Of the 23,894,320,823,479,123 possible responses to the question "Are you gay?" Why reply with an "I know what I am"? That's just so...gay.


Answering "I'm sure if they did know me, then they'll know that I'm really not" doesn't help either, considering that you never finished the sentence, foo! From that sentence, intelligent people like myself could deduce that you meant any of the following:


"I'm sure if they did know me, then they'll know that I'm really not..."

1) "...straight."

2) "...into vaginas."

3) "...a big fan of KY Jelly because I prefer the kinky feeling of slathering margarine on my anus."

4) "...a spitter. Swallowing love juice is the shiznit."

5) "...Sam Milby. I am Samantha Milby."


Sam is beaming because for a moment, he forgot
he was holding a microphone


Thursday, January 11, 2007

Some chick's beach sex scandal

Stiff necks: uncomfortable


I never knew who Daniella Cicarelli was until I heard she had YouTube blocked in Brazil because of her pseudo sex scandal video. With my insatiable desire to live up to my smart-ass image, I did my research on this controversial model and now I know that she was Ronaldo's ex, which is all that really matters because I don't give a jackshit about how good-looking she is, anyway, because: 1) Pretty models with hot bodies are a dime a dozen in the World Wide Web. 2) Her mouth reminds me of Donald Duck. 3) I don't have a penis.


What I don't get, however, is why she's so fucking pissed that her pathetic excuse for soft porn is posted all over the net. Be a public figure fucking your brains out in public (and in open air at that), expect the paparazzi. Better yet, woman, read my first sentence.


If you haven't seen the video yet, don't bother looking for it on YouTube or Google videos. Not only is it not on those sites anymore, but I took the liberty of posting it here for you. Although for chrissakes, don't you dare jack off to my blog, freaking perverts. Besides, it's not porn. At all. However, I must say, that's one effin' lovelyhotfinesmokin' ass. My boyfriend loves my ass, but Daniella Cicarelli ass makes me want to drag my ass to the gym.


Again, no wanking to my blog. Please.


Sunday, January 07, 2007

Crazy pipe


Crazy Pipe, not crazy pipe as in crazy mute. Anyway, I don't know how it even became Mark Herras' song, all he did was just dance to it. But I fucking can't get it off my head. Worse, I even find myself unconsciously bobbing my head to it when I hear it—if not imagining myself doing those popular dance steps. Egad!


My theory why the song's so catchy is it was recorded using the backmasking technique. And so with my brilliant tech skills, I played the track backward and lo and behold, I unearthed Crazy Pipe's subliminal message:


"If I don't bob my head to this stupid song, I will become a pansy, similar to the way Rainier Castillo dances. If I don't learn this song's dance steps, Sam Milby will kiss me. On the lips. With tongue. If I don't enjoy this track, Jollibee will point his ass towards my ass and do the ocho-ocho. I choose to have Crazy Pipe stuck on my head because otherwise, holy fuck, it will be Boom Tarat Tarat."

Thursday, January 04, 2007

How to be Oyo Boy

It's not as difficult as you think.


1. Have a really ugly-ass name that sounds as though everyone's babytalking you even as they say, "Fuck you, pansy boy [insert ugly-ass name]! I hope 20 million stinky hairy men rape you in the...the nose, muthafucka!" Restrain yourself from adding an "h" in "Boy."


2. Try hard to look as though you're trying real hard to act. Make sure to emphasize the "trying hard" bit. When portraying the role of someone mentally retarded, act natural.


3. Have a dad all your girl friends (young or old) would rather sleep with than you.


4. Have a mom all your friends (young or old, male or female) would love to bang.


Studies show Havaianas don't appeal to the elderly


5. Tell the world that you sleep over at your girlfriend's place—but claim you never wank her. Even if she's this hot:


Toilet paper: reusable


6. Have the balls to split up with your girlfriend. Even if she's this hot:


Hey, woman! You've got toilet paper stuck on your peepee!


6. And last but not the least, when running, exert effort to be a splitting image of this fella:


Yeah, that dude at the right