Welcome to the Weekly Edition of Poptastrophe. Our friends over at MamaPop are made of win, and they have their fair share of catastrophes over in the celebrity circus arena. Together we have decided to form :

The Poptastrophe Alliance.

This is good for you – you get the worst of celebrities, served to you on a platter, every Friday.

Whether it’s alcohol, cocaine, plastic surgery, or just good old fashioned The Crazy, some stars just can’t seem to keep it together.  It goes to show you that money can’t buy good taste.  Or judgment.  Or sometimes even pants.

Let’s start with a New York Fashion Week after party where one miss Lady Gaga showed us her va-jay-jay.  (It could’ve been worse.  It could’ve been her pe-jay-jay.  Must be nice for her to have a choice.)

She’s such a mess that I sort of love her.  {Read more…}

(Craftastrophe says: sorry Erin! (not really.))

I just can’t think of one occasion for where this may be suitable.

Guess that just makes me a straight edged stick in the mud, because really? I mean. You could wear mold just about anywhere. Right?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s cute, and well crafted; just… uh…. WHY?

I just can’t decide if it’s the moldy bread or the intestinal tract I like better.

Another thing…When I first read the dimensions I saw 4.5 and immediately thought inches (even though it’s actually centimeters) – and 4.5 inches? THAT’S HUGE. You’d be walkin’ around like Fava Flav with those intestines dangling from a gaudy chain.

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Then you could be all: FLLLAAVVVVAAA FLAAAAV. But not.

P.S. Flava Flav is 50!!!?! WTF!?

P.P.S. I feel old.

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Welcome to the 1st Weekly Edition of Poptastrophe. Our friends over at MamaPop are made of win, and they have their fair share of catastrophes over in the celebrity circus arena. Together we have decided to form :

The Poptastrophe Alliance.

This is good for you – you get the worst of celebrities, served to you on a platter, every Friday. I haven’t seen a pairing this awesome since Donald Trump became the spokesperson for Double Stuffed Oreos.

Oh you think I’m kidding?

I told you I wasn’t kidding.

Now without further adieu, take it away Mamapop!

Since 40 isn’t allowed to exist in Hollywood, unless of course YOU’RE A MAN, many celebrity women seem willing to do whatever it takes to freeze time. Sadly, the only thing frozen are their faces.

Of course they deny having anything done, instead crediting their appearance to “diet”, “exercise”, and, my favorite, “good makeup!”. Yet, we have our suspicions…

Let’s start with Meg Ryan. Beautiful girl grew into beautiful woman and then…CLAYMATION. Why, Meg, why?

The following celebs refuse to fess up. So, you be the judge. Good genes or good doctors?

Continue Reading…

I love Lady Gaga. I’ll admit it. Yeah, she is different and her music has this odd addiction factor like it may in fact, be laced with heroin. Basically she is like hard core street drugs: stupid, fun, bad for you and highly addictive.

And she makes you feel a little bit strange.  Possibly because some of us *ahem* Mamapop *cough* are certain she has a penis.  *shudder*

You can’t help but like her.

She reminds me of that awkward stage I hit at age 13.

Except I didn’t have boobs. (or a penis.)

ANYWAY.

When Jen sent this toilet paper cozy in, she mentioned Lady Gaga and I have to agree:

The resemblance is uncanny.  Get it?  Uncanny?  *snort*  Although those legs are way more Amy Winehouse than Lady Gaga.  Lady Gaga has always looked showered when I’ve seen her.

And uhhh, nice brass knuckles.  Is that so I won’t come home drunk and pass out on the bathroom floor (again)?  That doll looks like it could take me DOWN.

Lady Gaga would love this toilet paper cozy!  They have the same faux ears goin’ on.  I bet if LG had this toilet paper cozy in her house, she would take away it’s scissors and give it a homemade Disco Stick!

I mean, it’s obvious she loves crafts.  Am I right?

Thanks Jen!

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I, for one, have always believed the testament “Guilty until Proven Innocent”.

Oh, wait. No.

Innocent until proven guilty.

Ya. That’s right.

And The Gloved One was no exception.

So for me to say something like: “Michael, what big hands you have!”

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Would be horrible to follow-up with something like: “All the better to touch you with my young friend.”

Because that’s just not politically correct or fair since he’s not using that glove to touch anyone but himself from now on passed away.

I kid. I kid. (Kinda.)

I am a fan of the Self Proclaimed King of Pop. Always have been.

In fact, I remember asking for a similar red leather jacket to the one he adorned in the Thiller video.

Though, this wasn’t want I had in mind.

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(Can I just tell you that I LOVE the fact that the crafter has coined this one “The Beat It Jacket”.)

And, growing up, I had a friend who owned a Michael Jackson action figure. I was insanely jealous. I wanted that doll; now finally, I can have one of my own.

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Again, not exactly how I had envisioned it, but I’ll take it.

Rest peacefully Michael.

And now I can too knowing the little boys of the world are just a little bit safer.