Broke Like A Real Housewife
You might be seeing that leopard fannypack and that green sloth coat at a yard sale in front of Dionne Warwick's house sometime soon, because the IRS has got her number, hussy, and that number is $10.7 million. The L.A. Times says that Cousin Dionne wishes she had Lindsay Lohan's tax problems and the only way to pull her 72-year-old ass out from under the mountain of late payment notices from the IRS is to file for bankruptcy.
Dionne's rep says that she owes the IRS and the California Franchise Tax Board millions of dollars for taxes, late fees and interest, and she tried to work out some kind of payment plan with them, but they gave her a thumbs down and so she filed for bankruptcy in her home state of New Jersey. Dionne makes $20,950 a month and her expenses are $20,940 (including $4,000 to her assistant and $5,000 for housekeeping), so she's only got $10 leftover to pay the IRS. Dionne claims she only makes $1000 a month in in music royalties. Dionne's rep blamed her accountants for "negligent and gross financial mismanagement."
First of all, why didn't one of Dionne's Psychic Friends tell her that her accountants were being gross and mismanaging her cash? That way she could've went on over there, pulled off her house slipper and handled them? Second of all, why does she need to spend $5,000 a month on housekeeping? Dionne can buy a broom at the Dollar Tree and sweep her own damn carpet. (Side note: Even though we had a vacuum, my abuelita insisted on sweeping the carpet and she'd never use a dustpan. She'd sweep all the dirt out the front door. It was probably a Catholic thing.)
Poor Cousin Dionne. Now I can't talk shit about her for taking part in this fucked up foolery with that low-rent Rebecca Black wannabe.
A check is a check even if the check is signed by an auto-tuned fetus.
There's a good reason for why Brendan Fraser's facial expression is permanently set to "WOE IS ME," because woe is him and woe is his bank accounts. Brendan claims that he not only lost his hotness, but he lost his fortune too. During his Mummy days, dump trucks would drop mountains of cash on his front driveway, but those days are long over and now he says that he's so broke that he's thisclose to giving hand jobs in a McDonald's bathroom for a McGriddle (story of my life). Brendan was paying his ex-wife, Afton Smith, $900,000 a year in alimony and child support for his three sons, 10-year-old Griffin, 8-year-old Holden and 6-year-old Leland. Apparently, Brendan can't afford to make those payments anymore and he went to a Connecticut court to try to bring that number down.
The New York Post says that in court documents, Brendan claims that paying $900,000 a year just doesn't make sense, because he no longer makes that kind of money anymore. Brendan admitted that he has a few movies coming out, but none of those movies are going to put zillions of dollars into his checking account. But Afton Smith is HAHAHA-ing at Brendan's broke bitch act and thinks that he's all sorts of fraudulent. When they settled their divorce in 2009, Afton accused Brendan of hiding $9 million of new movie contracts. Afton also laughed when Brendan said that he was going to make $0 from acting in the future, because he had no projects in the works.
Afton's lawyer claims that Brendan is once again acting poor for show, because he has $24.7 million in assets.
Cue up the "NO TRICK NEEDS $75,000 A MONTH TO RAISE THREE KIDS" comments. Yeah, nobody needs $75,000 a month to raise three kids, but if you can get it, shit, get it. Why get up when it's still dark to make your kids mayonnaise and butter sandwiches for lunch when you can get a morning chef to do it? Why drive your screaming kids to school in the morning when you can get a nanny to do it? Why makes your kids dinner and get them to do their homework when you can get a night nanny to do it so you can sip champagne in a bubble bath far away from all of them? Get it all, Afton!
And Brendan needs to stop acting like that cousin who gets you to buy her lunch by crying about how broke she is but then pulls out a new Louis Vuitton bag. Because we all know that Brendan is getting millions of dollars in royalties from Monkeybone.
"Why don't I just flash you real quick and we can pretend like this never.... Wait, why are your running away while scratching at your eyeballs? Take these papers with you!!!!" is probably what White Oprah screamed at a process server yesterday when he dropped off foreclosure notice papers. Both Radar and The New York Post says that a process server dropped off very important court documents at the Lohan family house on Long Island yesterday. The fat-mouthed process served told a reporter for the Post that the documents were for a mortgage issue with Chase bank. Radar says that this isn't the first time White Oprah is in danger of losing the Lohan family crack house and that she's almost $1 million in debt. That gurgling in my stomach isn't from the Oreo and protein powder shake I had for breakfast. It's from thinking of that Steve dude from Vivid offering LiLo and White Oprah $1 million to do mother/daughter porn.
Radar also says that LiLo moved into her old bedroom at White Oprah's house, because her credit sucks and she can't even afford to rent a storage closet in the Bronx. But some source (FYI: in real talk, "some source" translates into "Dina Lohan") tells TMZ that LiLo isn't shacked up in her old bedroom. LiLo is putting the SO? and HO in SoHo, because she's living rent-free in a friend's SoHo penthouse. The friend is letting her stay there for free until she can get her own place and is letting her live there for as long as she wants.
I really can't hate on LiLo's hustle. Whenever I give a lazy handjob and a half-assed blow job, I get pushed out of the car. But when LiLo does it, she gets to live in a SoHo penthouse for free! I wonder if her friend is still going to consider himself a friend of hers when he shows up to his penthouse and finds that she's taken everything including the faucets and that she's been renting the place to the leaders of an underground sex ring for twice as much.
Here's a picture that Lindsay Lohan Instagrammed of her scissoring her nose as her latest stalking victim Max George screams for help while his ankle is shackled to the bed. Or maybe that's one of LiLo's demons showing itself. LiLo's demon would wear a hoodie from American Apparel.
Even though Charlie Sheen gave LiLo $100,000 and she supposedly gets paid thousands of dollars to give lazy hand jobs to rich men, she still owes the IRS a mountain of cash and if you looked inside the ash tray in your car, you'd find more money than she has in her checking account. So you'd think that when someone waves a half a million dollar check at her, she'd grab it and head directly for the nearest check cashing place. But TMZ says that the producers of Dancing with the Stars did wave a half million dollar check at her and bitch turned it down, because she wants nothing to do with reality TV.
A source says that the producers of Dancing with the Has-Beens have been at LiLo for a while. Their offer got bigger and bigger and bigger, and they stopped at $550,000, which she said no to. The source says that LiLo thinks she can still make movies and so she's staying away from reality TV.
If this is true, then Lindsay Lohan has once again certified herself as a bona fide dumb bitch for queefing on easy money. All she would have to do is smoke a cigarette in the middle of the stage while her partner danced around her. Bitch wouldn't even have to show up to rehearsals and she wouldn't even have to stand upright long enough to do the first cha in the Cha Cha Cha. Since America's favorite spectator sport is watching slow moving car crashes, she'd be voted through every week and probably win the whole thing. Shit, Melissa Rycroft won for doing a lot less.
But this story smells like a red plastic party cup full of cigarette butts, so I'm sure White Oprah made it up to make it look like LiLo is getting and turning down huge offers. DWTS would probably offer Lennay Kekua $550,000 before they offered Lindsay Lohan $550,000. On a related note, where do I sign the petition begging the producers of DWTS to get Lennay Kekua?
The well drink version of Taylor Swift and Harry Styles, Lindsay Lohan and Max George, is probably over now and the only thing Max has to remember LiLo by is the fake tan skid marks and vomit crust she left on his pillow in The Wanted's tour bus. LiLo lubed up her head and shoved it up Max George's ass to follow him all over the East Coast for about a week, but the days of her smuggling into his hotel room by hiding under the room service cart are long gone. Ace Showbiz points out that LiLo unfollowed Max George on Twitter after he pretty much called her a joke to reporters.
At Capital FM's Jingle Ball in London five nights ago, ITN asked Max George if he's licking LiLo's butt full-time and he laughed before saying, "No, what's the right word for her? A yeah, a groupie! She is probably hiding in our suitcase right now!" This gave LiLo the sads and she crawled out of their suitcase and immediately unfollowed Max on Twitter.
LiLo already proved to us a million times over that there's a basement under the bottom of the barrel, because she keeps falling lower and lower. But The Wanted laughing at her ass has to be rock bottom. THE WANTED! This is like when the nastiest, grossest skank in junior high school (Note: This nasty, gross skank used to entertain people in English class by eating her boogers. SUCIO piece of skank trash!) asked me to a dance in front of everyone and then said, "Yeah right, like I'd want to go anywhere with a fag like you!" while everyone laughed. This is worse than that. But I'm sure White Oprah will spin this and say that LiLo really dumped The Wanted, because they ran out of coke. So take that, The Wanted.
In other LiLo news, TMZ says that A&E is close to greenlighting a Storage Wars spin-off called Storage Whores, because Lindsay Lohan hasn't paid her storage unit bill for months and everything inside is about to be auctioned off. LiLo owes the storage company around $16,000 and she doesn't have the cash to pay for it since she's broke. She's asked her friends and family for the money, but nobody has given it to her. If she doesn't pay the bill soon, everything in her storage until will be sold to the highest bidder. TMZ says that LiLo's got a bunch of clothes and family heirlooms in there.
So basically, that storage unit is filled with coke-stained leggings, Michael Lohan's mesh shirts, Ali Lohan's youth, White Oprah's sense of reason, LiLo's career, a black kid and empty bottles of Adequite vodka.
Lindsay Lohan owes the IRS hundreds of thousands of dollars, probably owes her lawyers even more and she can't pay her rent, so you'd think that maybe just maybe she'd handle her crappy situation by either Wesley Snipes-ing out of the country or making a quick dollar by doing porn for the blind. But no, instead Lindsay Lohan has latched her lips onto The Wanted's ass and is following them wherever they go. Bitch is the Penny Lane to their Stillwater.
LiLo's stalking of The Wanted started a couple of weeks ago on the night she got arrested for punching a Florida psychic. A few days later, LiLo hitchhiked her way to Philadelphia where The Wanted performed in one of those Jingle Balls. Then she rode the bus with them to Boston and eventually they made their way back to NYC. On Friday night, LiLo was backstage with The Wanted at Z100's Jingle Ball. The Wanted is going with this, because:
a) This is the most publicity that the ironically named The Wanted has ever gotten.
b) They got tired of chasing her out of their bunks with a bottle of bleach spray after she snuck onto their tour bus.
"Yeah it’s fun [having Lindsay on tour]. She's a good girl. I love that she can party nearly as hard as we can. We had a big night on the bus where Ed Sheeran came on with us and a few of our mates as well, and we just had one big party. It was great! I suppose we’re all good mates already, so I hope that lasts. She's cool. "I’m sure she’s got people around her that know her much better than we do. We're probably not the best influence, to be honest."
"Party NEARLY as hard we can?" Unless Max George drank so much of the sweet nectar that he got alcohol poisoning, died and is now a fully functional zombie whose body is preserved by alcohol, I doubt he can party as hard as that mess can. Also, "probably not the best influence"? Unless Max George's brain is an exact clone of Charles Manson's brain, I doubt that's true.
Here's some pictures from Friday night of LiLo looking like a bruised apricot that's been soaked in dirty bong water. You know, I take back what I said about how hanging out with The Wanted is a bad financial decision for her. Because while she was backstage, she stole a box of Pop Tarts out of The Wanted's dressing room and becoming the East Coast's #1 Pop Tarts distributor is totally going to fix all her money woes.
OctoMom has 15 mouths to feed, doesn't have a steady job, gets at least $4,000 a month in public assistance, is losing her house and owes her creditors $1 million. So in order to dig herself out of the mountain of bills that is bigger than the mountain of dirty diapers in her kitchen, she can either try to sell some of her kids to Brangelina ("This one looks really good wearing all black, Angie!") or she can declare bankruptcy and tap her octopussy on camera for a check. Octo is going with the second option. I'll wait here while you update your "Things I Don't Want To Put My Eyeballs On But Will Put My Eyeballs On Because I Like To Feel Dead Inside While Watching Porn" list.
Octo tells E! News that she's hoping to start over financially by taking a Magic Eraser to her outstanding invoices from Verizon Wireless, Orkin Pest Control (note: that joke is too easy), the DMV, a Christian school, Sparkletts, Indy Mac Mortgage and a few utility companies. Octo filed for Chapter 7 on Friday and in the documents she says that she has $50,000 in assets and $1 million worth of liabilities. Octo went on to tell E!:
"I have had to make some very difficult decisions this year and Filing Chapter 7 was one of them. But I have to do what is best for my children and I need a fresh start."
Because Octo's financial state is as broke as her sanity, she's signed up to do solo porn for an unnamed adult entertainment company. A source tells TMZ that Octo is getting more than the $10,000 she got from Closer for posing sort of topless, but who knows if she's getting close to the $1 million Vivid offered her ass a while ago. Octo has vowed a million times over that she will never go against her morals by doing porn, but she doesn't see this as porn since she's keeping her hands to herself.
My stomach just filed for Chapter 7 just thinking about Octo rubbing on her coochie tentacles. Didn't Octo say that she's celibate and hasn't hugged her clit with her fingers in years?! Not only is this video going to fuck with our faith in porn, but it's also going to be depressing, boring and uncomfortable as all hell. That mess should be marketed as an educational video on how NOT to do yourself. Watching Octo try to rub out an orgasm is probably like watching John Travolta try to figure out how cunnilingus works.
The crazy who said that every time you masturbate, God kills a kitten, was talking about this right here.
Somewhere in the Crenshaw section of Los Angeles is a parked white van stocked to the top with technicolor wigs that have seen sparklier (in sad times like these, it is okay to make up words) days and dusty coats that look like they were cut from a Fraggle's ass. The white van belongs to the legendary Sly Stone whose license plate is his official home address, because he smoked up most of his money and lost the rest to shady vultures. It is a tragic day in society when pieces of trash like Lindsay Lohan are sitting front row at fashion shows and icons like Sly Stone have to shit in a plastic red cup behind an alleyway dumpster. Although, LiLo probably regularly shits in plastic red cups behind alleyway dumpsters, but that isn't the point!
The New York Post tracked 68-year-old Sly down and interviewed him about how he went from living in mansions to sleeping in a camper parked outside of a house in Crenshaw. Just a few years ago, Sly was living in a rented house in the Napa Valley, but his life turned down Matt Foley Way when he says the royalty checks stopped coming in the mail after his manager tricked him into signing over control of all of his finances. Sly sued his manager for $50 million but that lawsuit hasn't gone anywhere yet. Sly doesn't own any of the music publishing rights to his own songs because he sold that shit to Michael Jackson for a measly $1 million in 1984. Sly also blames his addiction to the bad shit for why he's broke and homeless.
But just because Sly is down and out in Crenshaw doesn't mean he's wishing he could go back to the days of mortgage payments and pissing in his own toilet. Sly says that he doesn't want to be tied down and his soul is happiest when he's traveling around. Sly made friends with a couple in Crenshaw who lets them shower in their house. Their son also drives Sly around L.A. and works as his assistant.
Sly still makes music on his laptop and hopes that a bitch will give him a job soon, “But now please tell everybody, please, to give me a job, play my music. I’m tired of all this shit, man.”
And the hobo paranoias have hit Sly, because he believes the FBI is following him and his rivals are trying to murder him. Lord. As soon as a ho becomes homeless, their brain automatically unlocks the "FBI IS TRYING TO KILL MY LIFE" thought. It's not right.
Yes, I know Sly's mind is off smoking star dust on one of Saturn's rings, but it's a shame that it's come to this. Can't the producers of Dancing with the Stars replace that useless Kardashian with Sly Stone? Can't we excommunicate Ke$hit from society and give her tour dates to Sly Stone? Can't we send Sly up to Canada so he can join The Quaids' Anti-Star Whackers Gang and they can fight the crazy fight together? One of those things needs to happen. Because how can any of us take it higher while listening to Sly's old songs when he's sleeping on a pile of his old wigs in the back of a van?
Lindsay Lohan is continuing her reign as the queen of zero budget commercials shot with a Flip cam in her living room by starring in this sketch for Air New Zealand with a hairy dingle puppet named Rico who looks like something she'd might hallucinate while muff diving during an Oxy and Red Bull binge. LiLo shot this mess while she was on house arrest for violating probation by snatching that necklace and that hairy nutsack with eyes even makes a joke about it.
Yeah, Air New Zealand isn't exactly selling themselves by using a known thieving thief as a spokeswhore in this day and age of airline employees snatching your checked shit. You already have to stroke your belongings and have the "I'll never forget you" talk with them before you check your luggage in. But then again, Air New Zealand has plenty of glamorous jewlings (whatever that is) and I love those!
And yeah, you can add a "puppet" to the list of things that look more alive and healthy than Blohan.
There's not a lot of meat to this piece (the post or Tara) but I never pass up a chance to point and laugh at the sober and refined lady Tara Reid. Mostly because I'm JELLIZ of her many fans and glamorous, elegant, not bag-ladyesque-at-all lifestyle, as captured by this article in the New York Post.
Tara is in Atlanta right now shooting American Pie XXVI and was sashaying across the parking lot of a local Walgreens looking in no way broke-down, busted or used. She was just minding her own business, and pushing her little doggie friend Pasha whose collar is REAL AND NOT RHINESTONES thankyouverymuch along in a shopping cart, when she stopped to ask a couple of the local plebians where she could dine on fine Mexican cuisine.
Suddenly this Walgreens manager who obviously does not know WHO Tara Reid is showed up and demanded that she give them their cart back. RUDE! She informed him in a not-whiney-little-bitch voice that she was just borrowing it, but he said NO! they didn't have that many so she snatched her posh pooch up, threw her regal nose in the air and glided away in a huff.
I can't decide what is the best part of this scenario - that Tara has a job, that she was hijacking a shopping cart, or that she got owned by drug store manager. Why won't the Walgreens manager let Tara be great?? Tara, you show their ass and take your business to Dollar Tree next time where they know how to treat a lady of your stature!