“I don’t care if they have a big nose. I don’t care if they’re bald. [I just want someone who's] really sweet and who’s a perfect reflection of who I am now.”
No, I’m kidding; she doesn’t want Jim Carrey back (and he doesn’t have a big nose, duh – that should have been your first indicator). She’s actually just a vapid sort of twat who doesn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who’s more famous than her. See?:
“The first thing is, when it’s not fun any more, you need to start investigating and do an inquiry into the relationship… My identification wasn’t caught up [in] being a celebrity’s … girlfriend.”
That was McCarthy‘s reason (for real) as to why she and Jim Carrey, who she dated for five years and lived with, too, broke up so suddenly. She got sick and tired of not being the famous one in the relationship, and wanted to move on to less-famous dudes so she could continue to have her moments in the spotlight. I’m betting, though, that she’s going to have trouble finding guys that are less famous than she is, though, because really – who the f*ck is Jenny McCarthy these days anyway? Ugh.
Is Jenny being as big a dick as I’m feeling, or am I just seriously in some massive Jim Carrey defense mode here?
November 22, 2011 at 11:30 am by Sarah
“I got [my] book deal the same time Jim and I split after five years together. While researching and writing it, I looked inside of myself and began to see what was wrong with me instead of blaming him for everything … I was a girl who pretended. I would say I liked things when I didn’t. I knew if I wanted to grow, I needed to make myself happy before I could begin to have an equal relationship with another man.”
Remember those days in elementary and middle school, where you’d hang out with a group of really fab people and because they all liked strawberry Nerds, you did too, even though you secretly fucking hated them? Like, would gag as soon as the slimy sheen of color began to dissolve on your tongue? You’d hate like hell to say that you didn’t, for fear of seeming ‘uncool,’ so you’d tolerate the bitter film coating the back of your throat ’til you could get to the water fountain on the 2nd floor next to the janitor’s closet (the one least likely to be used by your friends since it’s next to — ugh — that creepy janitor’s ‘office’)? Yeah. That’s Jenny McCarthy. Only she’s not eight years old.
Grow up, Jenny. I’m glad that you feel that you can be yourself, but those close to you at any points in time probably feel pretty gypped that you didn’t love Clerks as much as they did. Poser.
October 18, 2010 at 8:00 am by Sarah
The breakup between Jenny McCarthy and Jim Carrey is still pretty fresh — Carrey’s still experiencing the emotional fallout that’s been publicized through his very public Twitter account and now I think I know the reason behind his sad, sad feelings: ex-girlfriend McCarthy is apparently fucking some dude that has a really sketchy hairline and fishbowl eyes.
McCarthy and her hand-holding “friend” were photographed this past weekend outside of a Los Angeles club, where the former girlfriend of funnyman Jim Carrey was all smiles. She also had red-painted nails, which we all know is the color of the devil.
(Sorry, I watched The Village last night and I still have a slight aversion to the color red.)
May 17, 2010 at 7:23 am by Sarah
Super-amazing-adorable power-couple Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy have called it quits on their five-year union.
My first reaction to the news was, “What? Fuck, this is way late for an April Fools’ gag and it’s not even all that chuckalicious to begin with” and then I saw that both parties Tweeted the news. I’ve found out the hard way, if it’s on Twitter, it’s gotta be true:
Carrey’s Twitter: Jenny and I have just ended our 5yr relationship. I’m grateful 4 the many blessings we’ve shared and I wish her the very best! S’okay! ?;^>
McCarthy’s Twitter: Im so grateful for the years Jim and I had together. I will stay committed to Jane and will always keep Jim as a leading man in my heart.
What happened?! This, from the couple who publicly swapped bathing suits on the beach?
Does anything good ever last?!
April 6, 2010 at 3:01 pm by Sarah
I’m sure that it didn’t occur to Jenny McCarthy that I spent yesterday rolling around in piles of my own discarded tissues, fingers covered in Cheeto dust, watching Singles on repeat from the time I woke up to the time I eventually passed out from crying. I’m sure she didn’t mean to remind me of that when she posted on her Twitter that her rich-ass movie star boyfriend, Jim Carey paid to have his love written in the sky. I hope those two whacky mother fuckers laughed their faces off looking at their initials written above their mansion and then went inside to have the maid cook them breakfast and let the nanny watch the kid while they spent the afternoon having hours and hours of freakin’ hilarious sex.
Don’t worry, guys! Just another year where everyone else had a better Valentine’s Day than you and didn’t bother taking time out of their day to remind you of it!
February 15, 2010 at 2:02 am by Molls
Every once in a while I come across a story that blows out all my circuit breakers. Today, this event has occurred.
Jenny McCarthy has teamed up with Oprah. As I take a deep breath and forge ahead, it brings me physical pain to inform you that McCarthy now has a blog on Oprah’s website and is being groomed for her own talk show. Jenny McCarthy. Oprah. It’s a perfect storm of lunacy.
In my hopes that this was all just a vicious rumor I could easily dispel, I headed over to O’s site only to discover “Jenny McCarthy” on the header, nestled in between “Elizabeth Edwards” and “Take Our Recession Poll.” Currently, Jenny’s blogging about giving up sugar. Which is something I did as well. And it’s only a matter of time before she starts blogging about her son Evan’s autism. That’s something I do also. It really bothers me to have things in common with Jenny McCarthy. Like, beyond both of us having ovaries, and I’d be willing to have mine removed if it resulted in this Jenny-O union being dissolved, I don’t want to relate to her on any level.
I think I’ll feel better if I start a list of the things we don’t have in common. She is one of Oprah’s apostles; there is probably a restraining order on file that prohibits me from coming within a mile of Harpo Studios. She blogs about her PMS symptoms; I could never be so hateful. Her chesticles are plastical; mine are fantastical. Oh, and she can cure autism utilizing a magic recipe of sorghum and rice. I am completely incapable of curing autism.