Landlord: Jon Gosselin Abandoned a Kitten After I Evicted Him

AP-jon-gosselin-andy-kropa-invision-ap-400Recently, Jon Gosselin was evicted from his Wernersville, Pennsylvania, home after bouncing rent checks. The owners say he was reneging on the rent-to-own contract he signed with them last December.

Now, they’re talking even more. In an article tastefully titled “EXCLUSIVE: Jon Gosselin Hits Rock Bottom, Star magazine reports Gosselin not only left the house a dump after being evicted, but abandoned a tiny kitten there.

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Jon Gosselin Caught Masturbating on New Show

Gawker has video from the latest episode of Couples Therapy, and it seems that Jon Gosselin’s slide to the dark side is getting grosser than you could’ve imagined. How gross? He apparently gets caught masturbating on camera. So. Pretty gross. “I was just scratching myself,” he says. Too late. Couples Therapy now has a Major Plot Point.

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WATCH: Kate Gosselin, 2 Daughters Give Awkward TV Show Interview

Kate Gosselin is going on a media blitz this week. She’s on the cover of People, sporting a new, superior haircut and her twin 13-year-old daughters. “People think we’re supposed to be messed up, like, ‘Oooooh, the poor Gosselin kids, they’re going to be scarred for life, waaaaah,'” Mady Gosselin tells People. “Here’s the big news: We’re not messed up.”

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Jon Gosselin in the Wilderness

Jon Gosselin in the wilderness Phillymag

Photography by Chris Crisman, Prop Styling by Lauren Payne, Styling by Kara Bettie Speckhals, All Wardrobe Provided by Sugarcube and Barbour.

Following his Friday-night shift at the better of the two restaurants in Stouchsburg, Pennsylvania, Jon Gosselin emerges from its kitchen and asks if I want to try something he made. A minute later he comes back with two plates of beef and Hawaiian fried rice and sets them down at the bar. (You may remember a variation of this meal from Jon & Kate Plus 8, Season Four, Episode Four: “Korean Dinner.” Recap: Despite Kate’s insistence on mixing the green and white onions he’d requested she keep segregated, Jon’s dinner is a success.) “Beef sauté with mushrooms and onions,” he elaborates. “Prime rib. We cut it all up, sautéed it.”

He’s wearing dark-washed jeans, a cuff-linked shirt and a blue blazer—an outfit that speaks to his recent promotion from server to maître d’ here at the Black Dog Cafe. The familiar face is ruddier and rounder than it used to be, coarsened by four years of unrestricted drinking and cigarette smoking. His chinstrap/goatee combo is neatly groomed, and the sparse hair on his head—he’s 36 now—is still spiked upward, as if saluting the infamous summer of 2009, when he split up with Kate, moved to New York, and embarked upon a series of tabloid-recorded liaisons.

Wait. Jon didn’t actually make our food. “Actually, I say ‘we.’ Greg cooked it,” he says. Greg is the sous-chef. Jon looks at me a little bashfully. “I told him what to add.”

Jon started working at the Black Dog in August. Located in a 600-person hamlet 18 miles west of Reading, it’s a folksy wiener-schnitzel joint with delusions of Asian fusion grandeur—the perfect place for Jon to rehabilitate his image and reclaim his mantle as the nation’s preferred Gosselin.

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