I’m just thrilled to see Amy Winehouse looking better. Chexy readers know I’m mad for the wino. I seriously hope she’s off the drugs, but I begin to wonder when I see those damned pink ballet flats that she refuses to give up — it’s like a warning sign. “Look, I’m still cracky, I wear ballet flats to court.”
Oh yeah, she’s headed to court in this pic to face assault charges after allegedly clobbering a fan at an event in London last year.
Programming geniuses at NBC TV 4 in Los Angeles carried the better part of Shanna Moakler’s press conference LIVE. As executive director of the Miss California USA Pageant, Shanna (who has spent the better part of the past year tending to the melted tattoos of ex-husband/airplane crash burn victim Travis Barker) read surprisingly well from a prepared statement, detailing the reasons why the current Miss California may get the ax today.
Miss California USA Carrie Prejean, had the unmitigated, career-breaking gall to appear before at least one church group espousing her hatred while under title, and the contract says you just can’t do that shit. So Shanna made it quite clear that they’re going to can her not for her anti-gay sentiment, but for being so darned chatty about it while wearing her proverbial tiara.
HRH Prince Charles popped into a little school in West Yorkshire, where they thought it would be a good idea to paint his hand blue, and you can see he’s really enjoying that.
This man will be King of England one day. If his mother lets him.
If you’re Paris Hilton, nothing quite adds to your red carpet glamor like wispy hair extensions, a silvery handbag, and a shlumpy boyfriend with sleeve tats. Yeah, that’s a good look. That’s how the two appeared last night at the premiere of the new James Bond film “Quantum of Solace.”
For Benji Madden’s part, you’d think he’d say, “Hey, my girlfriend is wearing a ball gown, maybe I oughta ditch the black jeans, gothy tee and kicks for something a little more upscale,” but no. Having to exhibit ones hideous tattoos apparently trumps any sense of decorum or appropriateness, dude.
Crackhead Amy Winehouse did not attend the Madame Tussaud dedication of her waxen image — it’s likely she’s busy on a bender since her husband Blake was just sentenced to two years in the can for obstructing justice. Here’s the waxen crackie:
Her parents, however, did attend, checking to make sure of the statue’s accuracy; that there was a dime bag of crack hidden in the beehive, crack scabs covered with Lancome cosmetics, filthy feet and a removable tooth. It looks like Tussaud fattened her up a bit too — probably because like the real Amy, it kept falling down.
I wish her parents would talk to Jamie Spears about how you get a popwreck under conservatorship.
At some point, Amy Winehouse will need to go to rehab and get clean of her crack addiction, and the U.S. will have to get clean from its addiction to war in Iraq — as Bushie just signed for another $162 billion for the failed war, while Amy Winehouse appeared shaky, frightened, and battling her audience at concerts this past weekend.
The people around the mess that is Winehouse have failed her, unable to keep her hospitalized long enough to restore her health — and the House and Senate have failed the United States, by continuing to support the trillion-dollar mess in Iraq, while approving only 2.7 billion for the worst flooding the U.S. has seen in a century.
There will be no tattooed American Idol — they sent that shrieking horror back to San Diego with her face-tatted husband. Even though she tried covering up her unfortunate body ink in the past few weeks, everyone knew what hideousness she was hiding.
They even tried not taking audience shots of her Mansonesque hubby, Todd, who runs a tattoo parlor and is apparently a walking billboard for it.
The girl’s not that bad a singer, if you like that sort of high-pitched caterwauling that sends me scrambling for the mute button. Sorry, but tattoos are ugly, people.