Well, that didn’t last long. Human fountain of tears Ashley Iaconetti and poorly assembled James Marsden doll Kevin Wendt have officially broken up after falling down for each other on The Bachelor Winter Games.
Ashley I and Kevin technically won Winter Games, in the sense that they only got slightly injured while participating in children’s activities. So impressive! But now, the show has ended. The weather is warmer. Ashley’s hymen is no longer intact, and unfortunately neither is this relationship.
This is an especially confusing breakup because just four days ago, they were all over each other’s Instas. Don’t tell me social media is fake?!
If an emotional Princess Jasmine look-alike can’t find love after multiple reality dating shows, what hope is there for the rest of us?
Sources are saying that it was difficult for them to maintain this relationship long-distance. We’ll get official confirmation when Kevin joins Ashley on her Almost Famous podcast. I will also almost certainly not listen to this. Can the one rabid Ashley I fan fill me in on their fake reasoning in the comments?
Honestly, I’m sad that the longest-term relationship that Ashley’s had is with her eyelash extensions. (Girl, can I PLEASE get a recommendation?!) Also, aside from the never-ending tears, Ashley is mostly known for being a virgin. Will she be able to keep up her career now? I hope ABC paid her to give it up in that shitty “fantasy suite,” because now she needs a new distinguishing quality. There’s already a Russian orphan, blonde identical twins, a Playboy model who showed off her entire vagina, and a girl who stabbed her ex-boyfriend with a stiletto. Best of luck to ya, Ash.
I’m sure that Ashley’s career will be fine now that she’s no longer a virgin who can’t drive. And Kevin can go back to Canada where they have universal healthcare, hottie Justin Trudeau, and like, fucking kumbaya circles every day. See ya on Paradise, girl!
Images: Ashley Iaconetti / Instagram; Giphy
Thousands of miles above the Earth’s surface, a satellite flickers. An invisible beam shoots out at the speed of light, instantly reaching an undisclosed location in southern California. A tone sounds, a ticker starts printing: she knows. Kim Kardashian-West knows that you didn’t think about her or a member of her family in the past six hours, not even once. The status quo has been upheaved. The ground trembles, and the oceans swell. Kim knows what must be done. She picks up her phone and, undertaking her solemn duty, Kim Kardashian posts this topless picture to Instagram.
That’s Kim’s latest (at the time of writing) Instagram post. We’re led to believe that her daughter North candidly snapped a photo while Kim was posing semi-topless in front of the mirror, likely in a bid to get her mother’s attention the only way she knows how—a camera flash. To you, this may just be another in an unending stream of Kardashian/Jenner family social media spam. And it is, of course, but if you think that’s all it is, you don’t understand the Kardashian/Jenner media hype machine. It cannot be stopped.
See, this picture involves titties. Nice ones, at that. I’d uproot my life and build a house on those bazongas, if I could. But it also involves a child, one who’s likely had those boobs in her mouth
once for a promo shot hundreds of times. It’s fine, it’s nothing. But, just as Kim sprang into action, another siren is going off somewhere in Utah: now the moms know. Scores of white Utah moms, who name their kids things like Krysanthymum, are SHOCKED that Kim Kardashian-West would do something is immoral as include her child in her online thirst-capades. Never mind that Kim’s own mother helped broker her daughter’s sex tape, meaning that by all measures Kim is grading well above the curve as a parent. No, the moms are mad and the hype machine is in motion.
Utah moms might have decent Instagram followers if they’re also unemployed “fashion bloggers” who buy a shitton of LulaRoe and have rich husbands (and every white woman in Utah is), but that’s not enough. Now the media has to get involved. Some giant gassbag will have to raise this to the international level, and my guess is that it’ll be Piers Morgan. He’ll write some shitty article in the Daily Mail headlined “Bloody ‘ell, ‘ave You No Decency, Mrs. Kardashian?”, and that’s all it’ll take. Now your mom is texting you to talk about it. It shows up on the news. Ryan Seacrest plans a very special episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians around it (spoiler: Kim cries a lot).
And then? Jussssttttt when you’re about to forget about it, the satellite blinks again. Four, five days from now, Kim posts another Instagram pic—only this time, it’s North who’s semi-topless, with Kim’s ghostly reflection in the mirror. Once again, the internet explodes. Buzzfeed runs 15 posts with some variant of the headline “Kim Kardashian Claps Back At Slut Shamers And Her Response Is Perfect.” And just like that, balance is restored. Your brain, which could have been used to help cure cancer or end all wars or literally anything else, was instead occupied with thoughts of a Kardashian for a week. Next time it happens? It’ll be Kendall’s turn.
Kardashian hate has kind of died down in this country, like a bunch of hostages who’ve fallen victim to Stockholm Syndrome. And that’s a fucking shame, because it means these people won. Kim fucked a Z-list celebrity, and they plastered their massive, untalented asses on every TV in the U.S., and we’ve finally lost the will to fight it. There’s a zero percent chance that Kim doesn’t run for president at some point, and a non-zero percent chance that she wins it.
This is your America. Treasure it.
The past few months, Scott Disick has been cycling through underage girls faster than Kourtney can scream “I’M DOING WHAT’S RIGHT FOR MASON AND PENELOPE.” It seemed like something more might be developing last month when he took Bella Thorne to Cannes with him, but she went home after like, one day and was swiftly replaced with some other chick. Bella went back to hanging out with her old ex, and Scott clearly found a different, um, pleasure source. We thought that was the end of Scott and Bella, but not so fast.
Bella, who has spent more time lately being a thirst trap on Instagram than being an actress, posted a picture earlier this week in a tiny bikini pretending to eat a burger. At first it just looked like standard thot behavior, but upon closer inspection, we’ve deduced that she’s standing in Scott’s backyard. There aren’t many places with a view like that, but it looks like Scott might be busy enjoying the view of Bella’s ass.
So are Scott and Bella a real thing, or are they just
doing over-the-pants stuff hanging out? It’s too soon to know, but clearly Scott gives negative fucks about what people think about him. At 19 years old, Bella is probably a little young to be a stepmommy to his three kids, but she’s Scott’s ideal age for a sexual partner *shudders*. We’re not sure what this means for all the other girls that have been hanging around him in the last month (*cough* Sofia Richie), but they’ll probably find some other C-list celebrity to pretend to be “just friends” with.
Long live Scott and Bella, maybe they’ll at least make it til the end of the summer?