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Celebrity VIP Lounge

Celebrity Gossip Heard All Over The Web

An Open Letter to Miley Cyrus

Dear Destiny Hope Cyrus,

You’re probably beyond saving but if you ever learned how to read in that double wide, let’s hope you read this. This open letter could save your life!

Snatching a page from poptarts before you like Britney, Christina, and Rihanna, you are the first white girl to incorporate twerkin’ into your verncaluar and into your videos. And WE should all cry for the art form now while we still can. Because once the pop singers (side-eye to you, Brit-Brit) start dancing like they’re on welfare, the trend has crossed over and is no longer underground. You may want us to believe so much in your ratched-ness that we’re all regurgitating with anticipation. What will trailer park trash with lots of Disney cash do next? All that’s left is a full beaver shot via Hustler. And that’s only because Playboy already denied your nether-region!

We’ll stay tuned, however, since you’re only 20 years old.

We see you, as your schizophrenic trickery continues to surprise some, but we are hip to your game… and it’s time to call you out. You jump on trends so quick the casual observer might forget where your true roots come from. And in case they have, let us remind.

The backwoods and Disney.

We’d rest our case there, but then your trickery does a significant detour. Because all of you, Trickelodeon and Disney stars, aspire to be the biggest quasi-sluts in Hollywood at least once in your so-called careers and you have been rampin’ up the trampin’ slowly but surely since you turned bittersweet sixteen.

Yeah, we saw you Miley, debuting your stripper ambitions a few years back as your Daddy sighed in the corner and your mama passed you an EPT from behind the curtains. And we knew then that the ho down was about to go down.

And we were right!

We saw you Miley, when you snatched a page from Rihanna’s handbook of famewhoredom and snapped photos of yourself smoking on something green and telling everyone it was salvia.



And now, you have gone even further with her antics. Because apparently, being a little rich white girl is not enough these days. No no no! You have higher aspirations than we have been giving you credit for. Smoking the green sugar live on stage, Miley?

Tsk tsk tsk.

Call us, Miley.

Help us help you.

An Open Letter To Beyonce


Dear Beyonce,

These last few months, you seriously have been trying way too damn hard. But the past week especially? You are in overdrive with your fallacy and fuckery!

Taking a bike to your own show? How cutting edge! How brave! How balleress and real of you! Loved those photos of you traipsing your ass across the BK bridge, but you Photoshopped your security guards and stylists out of said photos.

And now you’ve cut, or shall we say, snatched the weave out of your head for a ‘real’ homie girl pixie cut? How different, how unique, how real. This is the biggest news story of the day when there are wars being fought all around the world, children going hungry, and Kardashians raising children?!

Excuse us as we go and slow vom in the corner.

You may be fooling the French with your name that they erroneously assume is classy when Americans know that’s just a ghetto name that ‘hit’ (Yoshika and Tawakani in the hood weren’t so lucky!). You may be fooling the general public in more ways than you can count, but we know that one of these days, one of the potions that Kelly, Solange, Michelle, LeToya, LeTavia, and Farrah is brewing will finally work and you’re going down for the count.

Wait for it. Wait for it!

An Open Letter to Kim Kardashian

Dear Kim Kardashian:


You’ve done it again!481108_370963593030774_547192529_n

Sending a bad message to your legion of fans. And although this magazine cover is allegedly not approved by you, where is your denial? Hmmm? Nowhere to be seen. Because in the world of all things Kardashian, any press is good press. So here’s some more, trick-a-licks! I don’t even know where to start sometimes with your triflin’ ass(es), but to save us all some time (and web storage space), let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?

First, you become famous by making and then selling a sex tape, which your mother pimps out, instantly making you famous for nothing more than your asses (and ‘liquid DNA’). And what happens next? Other girls with even less talent (and ass) begin releasing sex tapes by the truckload in the hopes that they too can grab a few dollars for themselves. And in this age of mediocrity that we presently live in it has worked for more than a fair share of these skuzzy skanks.

Job well done, Kim.

And the latest in your trifecta of fuckery? Because naming your child North West is definitely in the top 3, but I digress…

You go into hiding for a few weeks after giving birth to this future pimped out Hollywood ho stroll child, and then plop your ass onto the cover of the highest bidding magazine to let everyone know how you lost 50 pounds in 40 days. Now, some people out there may be applauding your ass(es) for recovering your only true prized possession so quickly, but we’re not one of those people. And why?

Because losing 50 pounds in 40 days is not only not healthy, it is yet again sending the wrong message to girls and young women that, for whatever reason, idolize your ass(es). Not only are you a vapid famewhore, but you are a buffoon of epic proportions to even come out with a statement like that. If anything, you should have just said you’ve lost weight and feel great, instead of putting numbers out there that any medical physician of merit would say is unhealthy. Now, we are all sure a bit of liposuction, Photoshop, and urine as a diuretic probably had a hand in all of this, but that’s besides the point. We’re calling you out on this one, Kimmy K and you have been warned!

Save a Heaux: An Open Letter to Miley Cyrus

Dear Miley,

You know…

We’re all for letting a ho have her day, but YEARS, Miley?

And you’re barely legal?!

Put on some clothes before your nether-region catches a cold!

This visual and aural f*ckery must cease P R O N T O!

What are you trying to prove? We get it. You’re HOT! Scorchin’! A damn lava pit!
Now now…

Cover your camel toe!

You have a new album out soon, you may be single again already and now it’s time to be a nice young demure lady for  half a minute before you lose all your fans. Sure, we know how this story ends. Britney is still unfresh in our minds as one of the last poptrix America skanked out that soon tanked out. Do you want to end up like Britney? Because trust us, Miss Miley…

your head is far too large to be bald.

Help US….help ba7569c5-0dd4-4148-ad3b-8f6d644eb541_miley-cyrus-mankini-album-artwork-nearly-naked!

That is all.

Kyss vs. Beyonce (An Open Letter)

Beyonce is not winning over everyone with her latest single Bitches Bow Down. In fact, after the release of the song, lots of women were up in arms. At CelebrityVIPLounge, we cover plenty of independent women from actors to fashion designers to singers. We get mail from across the board and this time we got a letter that delivered a verbal slap that we just had to reprint. So, without further adieu, we leave with you a letter for Beyonce. From one singer to another, Kysskyss-major-69 laments the alleged current queen of pop:

Is it just me or are other women also having a hard time swallowing Queen Bey’s new single Bitches Bow Down. I’m left to wonder how does the woman who once encouraged us to be surviving independent women go from that, to requesting we bow down to her superiority. With all the non-sensical trash being streamed through our airwaves, is there room for yet another groove that makes you move your ass instead of your mind?  Have we become so desensitized and entranced by the rhythms that the words are now null and void? It was bad enough when every rapper decided many of our first names should be changed to bitch. And when Tupac raised the question ‘you wonder why they call you bitch?’, who knew Beyonce would answer for us?! When such a role model as Beyonce can exploit the word in song telling us, her sisters, to bow down. I feel it’s time for alarms, bells ,and whistles to be rung. You’re only a queen in your own mind and who are you that we should now bow down? When in actuality not only as women but as a race we should be standing up! As a mother daily telling your own daughter she can be president. What signal are you sending to millions of other littles girls? As artists we need to begin taking responsibility for the moral breakdown of our youth. Beyonce, I like the beat, the groove is hard, but seriously bitch…go back to the drawing board. Lyrically, Bitches Bow Down is a failure and your fans expect more from you. Check out the remake to Bitches Bow Down… Sisters Stand Up!

What do you think VIPers? epic verbal slap or what? Our readers give good keyboard!

You can check out Kyss at the following sites:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyssmajor
ReverbNation:  http://www.reverbnation.com/kyssmajor

An Open Letter To Kim Kardashian

Kim-Kardashian-Pregnant-Wearing-Tight-Green-Dress-and-Matching-Heels-Go-To-a-California-Studio--440x836Dear Kim:

Do you really think that just because you have finally….finally been granted a divorce from your second (yes, we have been counting, trick!) husband, that one of the most egotistical biggest stars in hip-hop is going to marry your asses?!

We’ll see about that!

Your bastard baby is gonna shoot out of your hole in a few months, but it’s doubtful that there will be any ring on that hand other than that tacky ass QVC shit you klan of k*nts shill to people crazy enough to buy it. Now, we all know you’ll change your story and say that you want to be back to your original size before you waddle down the aisle with Kanye West, but the truth is that you’re not sure he is going to marry you at all.

There’s not a back alley in this world that Mama Kris can finagle a wedding contract out of Kanye and you know it. The old adage may go ‘three time’s the charm’, but first, Kimmy?


You’ve got to get to the third charm!

Save a Heaux: An Open Letter to Amanda Bynes


You may have claimed to have retired from acting, but you certainly have not retired from drama. High drama. We’re not sure how high this drama is, but I would suggest you not to get a refill of that drug! As the new, slightly flushed face of WGW (White Girl Wasted), we’ve got to hand it to you. You’re going full throttle with the batsh*t cray cray!!

Move over Britney!

Papa’s got a brand new crackbag!

Bynes ran to her Twitter to tweet about her tw*t…

“I want Drake to murder my vagina,” she wrote.

That’s right, Amanda. Tell us how you really feel!

After video footage of Amanda being helped down the street by the paparazzi, that’s a sure sign that there is more f*ckery and madness to come! We’ve got a suggestion for you, Amanda.

Get a film crew to film this visual breakdown and collect a check!

An Open Letter to Chris Brown

Normally, I would classify this under Save a Heaux, but that would imply that I intend to help a star in peril. But in this case…in this case?

F*ck him!

Dear Chris,

And I say that with all due respect for all parties involved. What have you done lately that is completely fuxored? Well, as the Ike Turner of your generation, you have gone out and gotten a new tattoo. If it was just a tattoo, this would probably not be worth reporting on. But no, in true Chris Brown fashion, you have gone out and chosen to get splayed on your neck a rather sizable tattoo of what appears to be a battered woman. But no no no, we are ALL wrong, says your paid spokestrick….

“His tattoo is a sugar skull (associated with the Mexican celebration of the Day of the Dead) and a MAC cosmetics design he saw. It is not Rihanna or an abused woman as erroneously reported.”

Hmmmm. Day of the Dead? My question is this, Chris: Day of the dead for whom? RiRi? The next woman that is dumb enough to latch on to your dirtbaggy ass?! When will this f*ckery end?!

This is one of those times where I will just put it out there and let the readers bust a verbal cap in your ass. I’m extremely so over you, pop-bastard.

That is all.

Frank Ocean Comes Out







The R&B and hip hop world was abuzz today with the news that singer Frank Ocean had officially come out through a personal letter shared online. Earlier in the week, rumors surfaced that Frank Ocean was gay from a blogger that had heard Frank’s upcoming Channel Orange album. Apparently he had used the word “him” instead of “her” on a few tracks in reference to his own love story.

Early this morning, Frank posted a letter to his Tumblr titled, ‘Thank You’s’ basically saying that there was some truth in the reports. The letter, which was written in December 2011, details Frank’s story of meeting a guy when he was 19 and eventually falling in love. It was his very first love and that love is what inspired the lyrics of quite a few of his songs.  Check out Frank’s letter below!

Whoever you are, wherever you are… I’m starting to think we are a lot alike. Human beings spinning on blackness. All wanting to be seen, touched, heard, paid attention to. My loved ones are everything to me here. In the last year or 3, I’ve screamed at my creator. Screamed at clouds in the sky. For some explanation. Mercy maybe. For peace of mind to rain like manna somehow. 4 Summers ago, I met somebody. I was 19 years old. He was too. We spent that Summer and the Summer after, together. Everyday almost. And on the days we were together, time would glide. Most of the day I’d see him, and his smile. I’d hear his conversation and his silence.. Until it was time to sleep. Sleep I would often share with him. By the time I realized I was in love, it was malignant. It was hopeless. There was no escaping. No negotiating with the feeling. No choice. It was my first love. It changed my life. Back then, my mind would wander to the women I had been with. The ones I cared for and thought I was in love with. I reminisced about the sentimental songs I enjoyed when I was a teenager. The ones I played when I experienced a girl too quickly. Imagine being thrown from a plane. I wasn’t in a plane though. I was in a Nissan Maxima. The same car I packed up with bags and drove to Los Angeles in. I sat there and told my friend how I felt. I wept as the words left my mouth. I grieved for them, know I could never take them back for myself. He patted my back. He said kind things. He did his best, but he wouldn’t admit the same. He had to go back inside soon. I was late and his girlfriend was waiting for him upstairs. He wouldn’t tell me the truth about his feelings for me for another 3 years. I felt like I’d only imagined reciprocity for years. Now imagine being thrown from a cliff. No. I wasn’t on a cliff. I was still in my car telling myself it was gonna be fine and to take deep breaths. I took the breaths and carried on. I kept up a peculiar friendship with him because I couldn’t imagine keeping up my life without him. I struggled to master myself and my emotions. I wasn’t always successful. 

The dance went on.. I kept the rhythm for several Summers after. It’s Winter now. I’m typing this on a plane back to Los Angeles from New Orleans. I flew home for another marred Christmas. I have a windowseat. It’s December 27, 2011. By now, I’ve written two albums. This being the second. I wrote to keep myself busy and sane. I wanted to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotions. I’m surprised at how far all of it has taken me. Before writing this, I’d told some people my story. I’m sure these people kept me alive. Kept me safe… sincerely. These are the folks I wanna thank from the floor of my heart. Everyone of you knows who you are.. Great humans.  Probably angels. I don’t know what happens now, and that’s alright. I don’t have any secrets I need kept anymore. There’s probably some small sh*t still, but you know what I mean. I was never alone, as much as I felt like it..As much as I still do sometimes. I never was. I don’t think I ever could be. Thanks. To my first love, I’m grateful for you. Grateful that even though it wasn’t what I had hoped for and even though it was never enough, it was. Some things never are…And we were. I won’t forget you. I won’t forget the Summer..I’ll remember who I was when I met you. I’ll remember who you were and how we both changed and stayed the same. I’ve never had more respect for life and living than I have right now. Maybe it takes a near death experience to feel alive. Thanks. To my mother, you raised me strong. I know I’m only brave because you were first…So thank you. All of you. For everything good. I feel like a free man. If I listen closely, I can hear the sky falling too. “

Frank was openly supported by friend and group mate Tyler the Creator, and received an encouraging blog post
from Russell Simmons. It’s brave for any person to come out at any time, but it takes even more courage to come out as a part of the R&B and hip hop side of the entertainment industry. Honestly, there hasn’t been many rappers or singers that have come out in the R&B and hip hop community, but hopefully this opens doors for others to do the same.

Image via Frank Ocean

Save A Heaux: An Open Letter to Lindsay Lohan

I do not even know why I waste precious time trying to right a ship so rawng that even Jack would let go of this bitch, but, contrary to popular opinion, I do have a heart…however black and frozen it may be, so without further adieu, here is my open letter to Lindsay Lohan. Let’s hope she is conscious/coherent enough to read it.

Dear Lindsay,

Another week, another disaster, yet like a cockroach drunk on Roach Motel fumes, you still manage to live to see another day of disaster. When are you going to put two and two together to realize once and for all that the root of your problems closely resembles you? I’m talking about your stage mother, Dina, first of all. She does not have your best interests at heart. Remove her!

Second, you are your own worst enemy! How much talent you had as a child B.C. (before crack) and now you’re washed up at 25, yet you look 45. Aren’t you tired of seeing all these new Hollywood starlets pass you by year after year as you peddle your wares on Playboy? Aren’t you tired of seeing other redheads in Hollywood get all the good attention? Aren’t you pissed that Emma Stone basically took your look and career and ran away with it? Just think, it could have been you in The Amazing SpiderMan but nooooo. Instead, you’re on Lifetime trying your damndest to look like a true Hollywood legend in Liz Taylor.


Get your act together, Strawberry Snortcake! Otherwise, the next trip to the emergency room may be your last and although many probably wouldn’t mind your demise, I am still holding out hope.

Open Letter to Hollywood: Leading Men in Hollywood Are Pussies!

Dear Hollywood,


I could name a gaggle of gayelles right now in Hollywood that are out and proud and fairly powerful in Hollywood in front of the screen, but try to name a few men and see how many digits you come up with. My guess would be not enough to give George Michael a good time at a truck stop. And why is this? It seems like the lesbians in Hollywood have bigger balls than the men in Hollywood. At least when it comes to coming out of the closet and taking a stand. How many times have we heard about this leading man or that having sex with other men but never being able to confirm it? Isn’t it past time for some leading man of considerable clout to step up to the podium…

and suck it?!

I don’t want to hear that tired theory about the average person not being able to look past a gay man portraying a straight men on film and for it to be believable. Hollywood has churned out several gay male leads since the beginning of its history whether or not the general public has been aware of it. Why can Angelina Jolie say she liked poon every now and then, yet Brad Pitt can’t say he’s had a portion of peen in his heyday?
Today is a new f*ckin’ day! Literally. So I say to male Hollywood…

suck it up…and suck it!

An Open Letter to Demi…

Because I care…
Dear Demi,

What the hell is wrong with you?!


Red Bull addiction?


You were the actress of the 90s. You were A Few Good Men. You were Indecent Proposal. You were ‘ditto’! You were the b*tch of the decade!

And now this?!

Shame on you!

You gave the world your titty balls supreme acting talents for years, siliconed cultivated your body gifts,  married a movie star and had three of his unfortunate looking children (I totally blame Bruce Willis for Rumer’s Kansas-sized cranium), and then semi-retired. Then, not to be outdone, you let the cougar out and latched on to Ashton Kutcher and we thought your life was perfect. You seemed to have it all. Then the interviews about female empowerment and being a strong woman and then what do you go and do?

The anti- G.I. Jane!


Shame on you, dummy, Demi!

If Patrick Swayze was alive, he would not even waste Whoopie Goldberg’s lips to bring you out of this haze you are currently in. Apparently, you have forgotten who the hell you are. So tank up on that botox, adjust your titty balls, and tell Rumer that mama is gonna be A-OK.

You talk about female empowerment but as soon as your cougar juice runs dry, what do you do? Turn to whip-its and Red Bull. Not only is that the sort of stuff reserved for junior high schoolers these days, it is the direct antithesis of everything you’ve been spouting off the last few years.

Take this media craze on you at the moment and use it to your advantage! Don’t let Asston win!

You are The Demi!