Helloooo major fall cuteness at JC Penney!

Justin Bieber’s memoir has no words.

Is there another Britney album on its way?

Joe Simpson is the worst manager of all time.

Lindsay’s rehab center might be harder than jail.

Is this guy a serial photobomber?

As promised, I want to continue this series on why I find Jessica and Ashlee to be so insidious. As another esteemed blogger pointed out today, Papa Joe is up to something bad (again) with Ashlee and her overly eye-lined lover, Pete Wentz.

[On a side note: Pete, what, what, darling are you thinking? Didn’t you see what happened to Nick? I know you got a new deal with Nordstrom, and I guess that’s cool, but what’s making you so delusional? I mean, couldn’t you find another plasticized gal to replace Ashlee? I mean, it’s not Ashlee, it’s the fact that you’re marrying her dad, too! The guy is a creep, a class-A creep. Didn’t you watch the Newlyweds, or did the clan make you sign some contract, in which you agreed to NEVER pop it into your DVD machine?]

Let’s get back to the juicy stuff, and let Pete learn his own lesson. (I’ll be the first to express my sympathies to you, Mr. Wentz).

So, rumors abound in Hollyweird. Yes, there’s a whole lot of concern about Ashlee’s “bump.” (Hold on, I gotta go vomit. That overly used words makes me sick. Bump sightings here, there, everywhere – even guys have bumps these days!) There are so many friggin’ pregnancy rumors about Ashlee, you’d think the “rumor machine” would explode. If that’s the case, however, and Ashlee is pregnant, then let’s have a moment of silence. Why? Cuz’ Papa Joe is gonna appear at his vilest.

Let’s say this rumor is true, that Papa Joe is seeking a cool million buckaroos from PEEPS Mag for the putative baby pictures. Before all this pregnancy stuff started percolating, I was gonna discuss the way Papa Joe’s relationship to Ashlee is more disgusting, as it’s shadier, more under the radar than his practically incestuous relationship he has with her older sister. Case in point, I did an image search on Google for pictures of Papa Joe with Ashlee, and I couldn’t find one! (There is that creepy one, however, of Jessica’s neck wrapped around Papa Joe – she’s given him a juicy smack on his cheek. Ewwwww!)

Furthermore, I’m proud to say that I beat MSNBC’s gossip page, as I wrote the present piece 2 days BEFORE they posted this story about Papa Joe hopin’ to make money off of Ashlee’s baby products. (So, Haha, I’m not the only one making these suggestions!)

[Aaah . . . yes, here comes my Henry T’s burger, and it’s sizzlin’ hot. Hold on, I gotta take a bite and then sip a Free State beer. OK, I’m back, but if you’re ever in Lawrence, Kansas, check out Henry T’s and Free State Brewery – they’re awesome joints to just hang out, eat good bar food, and drink great beer!]

Come on, I’m a foodie!

So, anyways, as I was saying before I bit into my burger, it’s obvious that Papa Joe thought “cah-ching” the moment his two girls were born, and now he’s thinking it again, discussing it with Mephisto, and planning. I can hear him now, saying, “these girls need to prove their worth and become my baby factories! I need grandchildren, no, no, I need grandDAUGHTERS! Mephisto, snap, snap! I didn’t sign that contract for nothing!”

Let’s assume Ashlee gives birth to triplets, because twins in Hollywood are, like, so passé now. So, Ashlee and Petey got these three drooling triplets (scary, right?), and, thanks to modern science, they’re all girls. Since Papa Joe has been negotiating with PEEPS magazine – much to the chagrin of Petey – he’s now demanding MORE money, because it ain’t one baby, it ain’t two babies, it’s three, so PEEPS magazine has got themselves a spread of three tots AND their perfectly fashioned faux-pas punky parents! (I bemoan the death of authentic punk and I blame Papa Joe for that, too. Sid, dear, may you rest in peace.)

Some readers might have found my first piece lacking in content, perhaps some would suggest it was an argumentum ad hominem. That might be true, and maybe they’d say the same about this piece. But when a man is workin’ behind the scenes with Mephisto, it’s hard to get to the truth of the matter.

Papa Joe isn’t only vile, he’s elusive. When there appears to be no content, as in the case of his daughters’ vapid personalities (and that’s not JUST media spin), it’s hard to find the meat. The superficial surface is just too thin, which luckily for me is not the case with my Henry T’s burger! Rest assured readers, once Ashlee pops out three tots, the nastier, media-whoring attributes of Grandpa Joe will unfurl before our terrified eyes.

Also, what the hell happened to the mom? Did Papa Joe eat her? Or was her contract up, and she’s already been plucked from the earth?

Stay tuned . . .

So, Papa Joe might find me and kill me (or send out a swat team of lawyers). But I don’t care. I’ll put it bluntly, and to him: “Papa Joe, your family is hideous, and you’re to blame.”

I hate thinking about the Simpsons. I try not to think about them. Ever. But when I do think about the Simpsons, and conjure up their faces in my mind’s eye, it makes me want to stab my actual eyeballs with needles or a really sharp knife. Since I like my eyes, and appreciate all that they do for me (good jobs, eyes!), I try to avoid images of the Simpson clan. Nevertheless, the girls appear on a lot of my magazines and are picked on at most the blogs I surf every day. Inevitably, I am forced to think about them, even look at them.

I’m sure some of you think I’m being unduly harsh when speaking in such venomous tones. Indeed, the Simpson camp would agree with you. So, by all means, go ahead and join that nest of vipers. But I can’t help being critical. In my mind, they rank up there with the worst of the Hollywood hacks, a close tie with Parasite Hilton or Lindsay Blohan.

OK, that’s hyperbolic, as I am thinking of more counter-examples myself, not to mention that the Simpsons, like Lohan, are in a different category than Hilton types, who were born, literally born, with golden spoons in their . . . well, you get the point.

These days, the competition to make it to the realm of beyond-pitiful is steep. Nevertheless, my dislike for the Simpsons is extremely intense. When did it all begin? Let’s see, I remember that “innocent” reality show . . . aaaaah, yes, The Newlyweds. That guy, Nick Lachey . . . that’s when he was in the picture, too. But Papa Joe effectively cut him out, didn’t he?

I have to admit, I was drawn to the Newylweds, at least initially. The first season was kinda cute, despite the way they “played” up Jessica’s blonde airhead act. (Oh, and for your information, she’s, like, smart. A while back, Jessica’s mom told VF that she’s a genius with an I.Q. of 160+). Uh, I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all. I think it’s fair to say that Jessica is an idiot. Call me an elitist (oh, and thanks!), but that’s what I’ve determined. Her sister is right up there with her. I don’t, however, blame them for their stupidity.

Moreover, I do not think they are necessarily “dumb” by virtue of their genetics. I ascribe their idiocy to a type of frightening ignorance – seriously, who doesn’t understand what makes up a sausage? If I were to blame anyone, as I have already, and I plan to expound upon further, it would be their parents.

My main target: Papa Joe. The thought of their dad, his lascivious comments about Jessica’s breasts, and the way he manages both of his girls, absolutely positively disgusts me. The man is vile, vile, vile. (I mean, seriously, does your dad compliment your breasts?) He turned his two children into money-making fools.

The first one, Jessica, was thrown to the media wolves with her husband, Nick. Incidentally, Nick was already slaughtered. Once she became a household name, due to her marriage to Nick, Papa Joe (I surmise) pushed hubby out the door. Now I’m no Hollyweird scum insider, but I suspect that Jessica isn’t the happiest person these days. Oh, and a side note to that: even though my best friend bought me the complete season of the Newlyweds, I cringe at the thought of watching the final episodes – Jessica is no longer the ditzy, cute blonde, but a hypercritical bitch. I don’t care how much money she has, how hot she appears, or who she’s dating, I pity her, and being pitiable is terrible.

If the divorce had been a P.R. stunt with Papa Joe involved, which, I believe was probably the case, he made a brutal decision to be his daughter’s puppet master in her own intimate relationship. We’re talking about his knowledge of her sex life, with her husband, the man to whom she lost her virginity. The whole thing was practically a spectacle on television! Yes, it was sanitized. Fine. But who cares? It’s the implication, the fact that Papa Joe is present during those first few episodes, in which we find Jessica – the reality starlet – moaning and groaning about being a virgin, and then moaning and groaning about how much she needs sex. That’s just creepy, not her desire for sex, but her father’s overwhelming presence during that time. (Let us not forget, this man was a “minister” at one point).

You can blame the paparazzi all you want, claim that they depicted Jessica unfairly during her divorce, but I think if you look a little deeper, you’ll find more insidious pieces that implicate her father and his control over her career and personal life. I’ll talk about the paparazzi later. Suffice to say, that entity vis-à-vis celebs and their lives is far too big for the present piece’s objectives.

So, maybe Jessica’s 15 minutes are up. Of course, she got a clothing line out of it, shoes (crummy if you ask me), she’s dating Tony Romo (and I sincerely hope it’s a good thing for both of them – I mean that), and appears happy (the author is leery of her feigned “happiness” and “newly discovered independent spirit”), but what about her star? I think her star fell, crashed, and burned pretty hard. So, where did Papa Joe go after he extinguished it? Onto Ashlee’s putrid star of course!

While I sound sarcastic, biting, cruel, I hope you realize that I’m not treating these two people in a categorically flippant way. My intent is to highlight the fact that their own father took them to slaughter for his own gain. But let’s get something straight. They’re not “innocent” victims. Not at all. Like I just said, Jessica has benefited in numerous ways as a result of her stardom, and so has Ashlee. But as I move onto the little sis’ in my next piece, I want to emphasize their humanity, and the fact that author of this Simpson critique believes that they were raised by a man who deflated their humanness, and for his own, selfish reasons.

On a lighter note, I just wanna say something about Nick. I’m glad Nick got out when he did. I mean, Nick might be an average Joe in a hot man’s body, but he’s a good guy. He likes football. He likes cheap beer. He likes to have a good time. He seems low-key. Who wouldn’t wanna hang out with him and watch USC football? I don’t even like football, and I’m not particularly attracted to Mr. Lachey (I like bookish types myself), but I’d love to bullshit about sports over a brewksy with him – that wouldn’t be great. That would be awesome.

I used to get so peeved when Jessica would roll her eyes at him when he plopped in front of his big ol’ plasma to watch some football. With that said, I don’t think low-key people “jive” with Papa Joe. More importantly, I don’t think good, decent guys like Nick stand a chance in that nest, because it’s filled with vipers. What’s worse, Jessica and Ashlee are too ignorant to realize that they have the worst bites. Why? The two girls are two busy eating off their own tails.

Two things I am very thankful for this year? That I am not Jessica Simpson or Britney Spears.

At one time two of the hottest, most enviable babes out there, these days it’s hard for me to choose which one it would suck to be the most. To help me decide (and because I’m a little OCD), I’m complied a list.

If I was Jessica, I Would:

• Make movies that go straight to video

• Curse Tony Romo

• Have a dad who is certifiably smarmy

• Have sold my soul to MTV

• Have an untalented sister considered more talented than me

• Be known mostly for my boobs

• Own a website that looks like a high-quality ebay store

If I was Britney, I Would:

• Most likely have giant mental problems

• Usually forget I have kids

• Date guys who look like total douchebags

• Spend my nights in convenience stores

• Shave my head like it was no big deal

• Be unable to comprehend what the words “court date” and “must attend” mean

• Need a body double for naked photo shoots

• Believe Starbucks is a food group

These chicks may have a lot of cash, but if being rich means trading in my brains, fashion sense, and mental security, than you can count me out.

This year, I celebrate the true joy of being innocuous and unknown.

Although I will admit I loved “With You”…which I’m listening to right now…

That’s the reason I love Jessica Simpson. Her music sucks and its horrible… and I love it. It’s the dance around in your underwear, want to be in love, lip-syncing in the mirror with a hairbrush type of music. It’s awful. It’s so awful you can’t help but love it. And I do.

But country?

Please, Jessica, spare me.

Your fake country accent in Dukes of Hazzard was worse than your fake tan at the CFDA awards. I grew up on country music and there are plenty of awful female country singers out there to go around. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t have “Redneck Woman” stuck in my head right now.

As everyone’s favorite teenager dad said, “Everything in the music business, especially pop music, has moved away from singers. And I think country is the only pure, storytelling kind of genre left.”

So Jessica has a story to tell, and apparently she wants to tell it through country ballads rather than bubblegum pop lyrics. Is one genre not enough for musicians these days? Do they have to do everything—not just movies and music but every music genre too?

You can’t just sing anymore. There has to be techno beats and rap duos and lines like “It’s Britney, Bitch.” And now country is the new pop. Ugh.

It’s fine to be experimental with your music, to try something different. But sometimes, you should stick to what you know (or what you kind of know…consdering past album sales…).

But apparently, since she’s from Texas, Jessica (or Joe) think that they know country.

I guess we’ll have to wait and see…

Yee Haw Pardner!

Looks like Jessica’s new hair color wasn’t enough to convince John Mayer she was indie enough to be his girlfriend.

Everyone’s favorite gossip whore has just posted an exclusive clip about the break-up of one of the weirdest celebrity couples out there, J. Simpson and J. Mayer.

No clues as to why the relationship ended as of yet, but I mean, we can all guess, can’t we? Mayer, known for his musical talent as well as his thought-provoking lyrics and global awareness, and Simpson, known for her boobs, MTV reality series, and creepy, lecherous father, probably didn’t have much to talk about once they hopped out of bed.

It was obvious to everyone that Johnny Boy felt uncomfortable in the relationship from the start, denying he was dating Jessica in the beginning, and always looking so damn serious every time the two where photographed together. Don’t worry, J-Dog. We’ve all dated that lame, hot person in a fit of carnal weakness.

As for Jessica, girl needs to find herself a man who isn’t embarrassed to be around her and enjoys belting out pop songs written by somebody else just as much as she does.

Jess, you can do better. I mean, the dude looks like zombie in most pictures. He’s got a nice voice and stuff but…he ain’t no Nick Lachey. Know what I mean?

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