After reading Angie’s bold op-ed exposing her fight to prevent breastcancer, CNN’s Early Start host ZoraidaSambolin has gone public about her own struggle with breast cancer and plans for a double mastectomy on the national morning show.
“For a while I have been struggling because I was diagnosed with breast cancer about three weeks ago and I was trying to figure out how do I share this story, how do I tell the viewers that I’m going to be gone for a while, because I have chosen to have a double mastectomy. Angelina Jolie’s story really hit home.”
While the talk show host hasn’t been tested for the BRCA1 gene like Angie, she already has plans to have the test in order to encourage more to take control of their health!
After such an immediate positive reaction, we’re hopeful the Hollywood heavyweight’s fearlessness will save MANY lives.
It’s no wonder you can’t say “Angelina” without “angel!” LOLz!!!
Ch-ch-check out the TV journalist explain her decision to undergo the surgery (below)!!
If you’ve been following the Amy’s BakingCompany freakout on Facebook, then I’m sure you’ve gone through several bags of popcorn and have thrown up seven tons of laughs from watching those crazy bitches lose whatever is left of their minds all over their keyboards.
If you have no idea what I’m talking, then immediately watch part 1 and part 2 of last Friday’s episode of Kitchen Nightmares. For the first time in Kitchen Nightmares history, Gordon Ramsay, who prides himself on being a hot-tempered cunt, walks out of Amy’s Baking Company Bakery Boutique & Bistro in Scottsdale, AZ, because he couldn’t break through the shield of craziness permanently surrounding owners Amy and Samy Bouzaglo.
In just one episode, the Bouzaglos stole their waitstaff’s tips, fired a server, Samy threatened to whoop a customer’s trick ass and Amy threatened to call the police after a customer asks if he can have the pizza he bought from them. That’s basically what would happen if Chris Brown, Kanye West, Lindsay Lohan and Sean Penn opened up a Sbarro/Dunkin Donuts together. Gordon gives up and walks out on them and that was that…..until last night.
After the episode aired, they got hundreds of one-star reviews on Yelp and last night, they started responding to all the hate on Facebook. It’s theater at its finest! When Reddit started following their meltdown and people started commenting on how they sell repackaged cakes, they turned up the crazy and got even crazier.
Scottsdale’s most reputable gourmet chefs have since taken down most of their ALL-CAPS rants and claim that they’ve been hacked (the FBI is looking into it, uh huh), but Eater screen-capped some of their greatest moments. My favorite is the one above and Samy and Amy should get some kind of customer service award for it. I kind of want to call up Amy’s Baking Company and ask if they take lunch reservations for tomorrow, because my life isn’t complete until I hear Amy call me a SLUTTY BITCH. That is the ringtone my iPhone severely needs.
And where’s the petition to get these two on The Next Food Network Star, Cupcake Wars and basically every other show on television?
Kanye West had to lick Anna Wintour’s ass clean a thousand times to get that trash heap heffa Kim Kartrashian an invitation and this is what she wore. The theme of the night was “punk,” because the Costume Institute’s exhibit is Punk: From Chaos to Couture and I guess Kim thought that since she and Kanye are a couple of punk ass bitches they fit in with the theme perfectly!
I was watching the live feed of this mess, which was awkward comedy at its finest, and dumb ass Kim said that this was her idea of “punk.” It’s “romantic punk.” BITCH, my chihuahua’s swollen anal gland (I’m taking him to the groomer tomorrow, don’t worry) is more punk rock than the floral vomit she wore tonight. They should’ve thrown a plastic cover over her, because this is someone’s abuelita’s sofa.
She looks like that dusty, lumpy sofa that had your grandma has had for years and decided to finally get rid of it. So your grandma, with the help of two neighborhood boys, puts it on the curb for the garbage men to take, but they never take it. It just sits there on the curb. The dogs pee on it, the birds crap on it and it gets even lumpier from the rain. After a few weeks, your grandma finally gives in and drags it back into her house and puts it in her backyard. The only thing missing from Kim’s look is a grandma sitting on top of her.
Kanye’s alleged fuck buddy Riccardo Tisci made this for Kim and I could blow a million air kisses at his taint. He knew what he was doing and he should get the Nobel Peace Prize in SHADE for doing it!
Portia de Rossi and Ellen DeGeneres’26-acre, million horse ranch in Hidden Valley (and now I want some ranch dressing) will never have a drop of baby diarrhea on its floors and the maids will never have to scrub toddlers barf out of their imported French rugs, because they plan to remain child-free forever. While every trick in Hollywood is filling her uterus with a fetus, Portia tells Out Magazine she and Ellen decided a long time ago that the only thing they’re going to use a turkey baster for is to suck their clits with. (Related: Why did I read this entire article on the many uses of a turkey baster?)
“There comes some pressure in your mid-30s, and you think, Am I going to have kids so I don’t miss out on something that other people really seem to love? Or is it that I really genuinely want to do this with my whole heart? I didn’t feel that my response was ‘yes’ to the latter. You have to really want to have kids, and neither of us did. So it’s just going to be me and Ellen and no babies — but we’re the best of friends and married life is blissful, it really is. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”
You know, I’ve asked myself the same thing. In 20 years when I’m sitting at the Thanksgiving table with my 9 dogs and we’re all fighting over the last turkey drumstick, am I going to wish that there was a kid across from me, telling me how much I ruined their life and that they hate me and they wish that I would choke on a jellied-slice of canned cranberry sauce? Is my black heart of bitterness going to be incomplete without that moment? Probably not, because I’ll be too drunk to notice. Yes, misery loves company, but that’s what Jack Daniels is for.
And that cover is giving me major “Justin Bieber does Laugh-In” vibes.