Over the holidays Russell Brand and Katy Perry told the world they were ending their marriage. Nooooooooo! From a girl who’s currently engaged to be married (me!, I know I know, enough talkin about it already) — IF RUSSELL BRAND AND KATY PERRY CAN’T MAKE IT, WHO CAN??!
(ps. if you think I’m upset, check out all of India.)
Ugh. How sad, right? And also… ironic. It’s like if Bret Michaels died from a rose thorn. Or Katy Perry caught a fatal case of herpes from kissing a girl. Yeah, just like that.
Russell Brand was deported from Japan this morning because he has a criminal record in England. First of all, I can’t believe anyone takes the UK legal system seriously. They still have kings and queens over there, let’s get real. Secondly, can we all agree that Katy Perry officially has the coolest problems of anyone in the world? While the rest of us are just bummed that it’s Monday (and a handful of nutjobs are disappointed that they weren’t magically sucked into Heaven over the weekend to hang with baby Jesus and laugh at us heathens), Katy’s issue today is this: her mega successful movie star comedian husband can’t get into the country of Japan to see her on the latest stop of her sold out worldwide tour. Boo hoo. She’s been tweeting all day about it. Listen Katie, the rest of us have real shit going on… I’ve got a left tail light has been out for three months, my neighbor lets her dog shit all over my front lawn, my DVR didn’t pick up the Celebrity Apprentice finale last night (no spoilers! I’ll watch it online, ugh), and out of the 4 Precor machines I use at the gym, two of them are currently out of order. (I know, I know, my life is really tough.)
Katy Perry’s mom is writing a book about what it’s like being Katy Perry’s mom, plus a lot of religious stuff because she’s an Evangelical Preacher and that’s kind of their thing. Now I’m a huge fan of Katy Perry, mostly because of her music (“California Gurls” has been stuck in my head for 9 straight months), but I also admire the way she just throws those tits of hers on a platter and prances around in ridiculous outfits that look like they were made by pillaging a dumpster behind Toys R Us. Her boobs really are a national treasure. If I had boobs like that I’d be doing the exact same thing. But I don’t. Instead I wear pads and water bras and things filled with gel; wire and straps are usually involved and sometimes I throw in a pair of chicken cutlets for good measure… my chest is more like an arts and crafts project than anything that resembles cleavage. Because of this, at various points in my life, I’ve left men wildly disappointed when I’ve pulled out the paper mache and rather than seeing some big ol’ fun bags they can bat around, they are faced with my mildly entertaining satchels.
In summary, if Katy Perry’s mom wants a best seller, it should just be about boobs. About Katy Perry’s boobs. About her own boobs. About passing on this incredible boob gene to her daughter. New York Times Best Seller for sure!!!
PS. No homo.
