John Mayer reportedly skipped out on Pete Wentz’s art show early because he didn’t want to bump into his ex, Jessica Simpson. Mayer showed up at Gallery1988 to support Pete’s art extravaganza “Without You I’m Just Me,” but left before the VIP portion of the evening began for fear of getting caught up in one of Jessica’s brilliant soliloquies on the nature of art and creativity.

I know that every time I’m invited to a crappy event like a Pete Wentz art show I use the same excuse. “You want me to go see Valkyrie? I’m sorry. I don’t want to bump into Jessica Simpson.”

And with that, I’m riding off into 2009 on my alcohol horse. Happy New Year’s everyone.

You know the economy is failing when you can’t whore out your own baby. And it looks like Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson are going to continually supply me with material whether I like it or not. (“Not” is the answer to that question.)

Seems these two douche bags can’t get any tabloids or magazines to pony up some money for exclusive pics of baby Brooklyn Nemo, or whatever the hell its name is. Apparently Wentz and Simpson covers don’t move magazines.

Maybe Wentz should just start charging cover to see the baby in person since he claims that there’s a non-stop surge of people lining up to get a glimpse of the little turd machine.  

Slow news days make me bitter.

I swear this is my last Ashlee Simpson/Pete Wentz post. Of course I swore every Zima was my last, but it wasn’t until they stopped making it that I switched over to Boone’s Farm.

Anyway, Pete told Details that after some embarrassing nude photos appeared on the internet in 2006 (embarrassing for both him and everyone else in the world), Ashlee Simpson called him up and made him feel better.

That must have been easy. Ashlee: “So your cocktail sausage is on the internet. Big deal. Try having a dumb whore for a sister who is more famous than you are. And have you seen my nose lately? Why don’t you come over and we can watch Jungle Book and try to come up with some baby names?”

I try not to post blogs about the same topic two days in a row, but Pete Wentz makes it so easy.

Today Wentz reacted to the “controversy” surrounding the name of the unfortunate child, Bronx Mowgli Wentz, that Ashley Simpson finally pooped out this week.

“I feel weird,” Wentz told Ryan Seacrest, “people have all these idea of what (the name) means now. I think it’s kind of cool to leave the narrative the way it is. People are stoked or pissed or whatever… I don’t think anybody knows the real story of why or how.”

He then goes on to compare the birth to some kind of Hollywood douche club: “It’s like opening a new spot in L.A. Everyone’s trying to get in every night– they’re like, ‘No, I know Pete, kind of.’”

So let me get this straight, there are people out there who are either pissed about the baby’s name, excited about the baby’s name, or so “stoked” that they are showing up at the Wentz household and lying just to lay eyes on the little turd? Yeah, right.

But if this is true, it makes me feel much better about my life of laying on the couch all day watching reruns of Sally Jesse Raphael and masturbating to Thighmaster commercials.

Famous people are so stupid. Even when they are being original, they’re just copying other famous people.

And so when you get two idiots together and they make a baby, they come up with names like Bronx Mowgli Wentz because it’s what everybody else is doing.

This is the actual name Ashley Simpson and Pete Wentz gate their child after they finally negotiated with the fetus and convinced it to come out. (And by “negotiated,” I mean ripped it from the womb. The little sucker held on tight too, I bet.)

It’s a new game! Take the place you were last arrested and you’re favorite Disney cartoon character and that’s your celebrity baby name!

On the Ellen DeGeneres Show, Jessica Simpson told Ellen that her sister, Ashley, was about to induce labor because the baby refuses to come out. I guess we know that the baby is already smatter than Jessica.  

“They’re going to have to. It’s already developing really quick,” said Jessica. Jessica then said that Ashley and her husband Pete Wentz have tried other ways to get the thing out: “Different foot massages and stuff. I don’t know. I think she’s really just jumping around trying everything right now.”

That’s how we do it where I’m from, Indiana. We make the pregnant women jump around until the baby falls out. If that doesn’t work, we give foot massages. If that doesn’t work, we induce labor via the trauma of having to listen to Ashley Simpson sing. Ironic.