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MiserAlba is in all of us! Her beauty transcends all cultures! That's what that bitch claims anyway. In the new issue of Elle, MiserAlba talked about her exotic looks: "There aren’t many other stars, besides Halle Berry and Jennifer Lopez, who most people in the world can related to. We look like people of the world – I can kind of mix in with girls in Asia, South America, Europe.”

Bitch is like the Small World ride at Disneyland, but except for smiley happy dancey children, you get a frowner who will cut you with her death eyes. And my second cousin Lupe is going to be fucking thrilled to know she's an international hybrid beauty who can pass as a Swedish chick, because ho looks just like MiserAlba.

MiserAlba also talked about how she cried tears out of her eyes when she had to work out to lose the baby weight, "The workouts were horrible. I cried. And I haven’t worked out since." And she went on to say that contractions are cake and ice cream! "Contractions aren’t that bad. If you’ve ever had bad cramps? That’s what they’re like.”

Contractions were nothing to MiserAlba, because she took the pain she was feeling out on Cash Warren's balls. She slowly popped them one by one. Cash has a no-nut area now, but that doesn't matter, because MiserAlba had an easy child birth!

And she only cried during her workouts, because her trainer played her movies during their sessions. Her acting skills makes everyone cry.

Christian Bale's fuck word meltdown is the gift that keeps on giving. It gave us the dance remix, the soundboard, the Newsies mash-up and now we have the Bill O'Reilly/Christian Bale fuck word battle to the death. It's kind of perfect.

Bill O'Reilly's rant still makes me want to shove my head into a fully heated George Foreman grill to stop the madness. Christian Bale's rant gives me a totally different feeling. I just want him to drop fuck bombs all over while dick slapping me into a heavy coma.

Bale wins this battle. Any rant that makes me think of peen is the obvious winner.

If I was Jenny Aniston's spokeswhore, I'd make her swear on her favorite real baby that she will not talk about men, relationships, Brangelina, Maddox or anything sex-related during interviews. You know, I'd demand that she only talk about kittens, puppies, unicorns, rainbows, Cathy the comic strip, candy canes, cocaine and ice cream! Those are safe topics. If she stayed on those topics, quotes like the one she gave Marie Claire would never come back to bite her in the nalgas.

In a joint interview with Drew Barrymore and Ginnifer Goodwin for that GET ME A MAN NOW movie, Jennifer Aniston confessed this: "I still have the cassette tapes of messages from my first boyfriend, my second boyfriend, my husband… it’s like saving love letters."

HUSBAND! Oh, Jen. It's time to burn the entire cardboard box you keep near your bed labeled: WHY BRAD WHY?!!!! This is just Kleenex box sad. I totally picture her listening to those tapes while cuddling with the teddy bear she made using hair she stole from Brad's hairbrush. I bet she spent hours taking soundbytes from each tape to get Brad to say, "Hi, gorgeous honey. You are the most beautiful girl in the world. Marry me again. Angelina is a hose." She couldn't find a bite of him using the word "whore," but she figured "hose" was close enough.

Click here to read the entire interview.

Source, Source

(Thanks LaToya)

May-December catfights are having the best week ever! First, there was La Dunaway vs. the chippy skank known as Hilary Duff. And now we have Etta James vs. Sasha Fierce! Diapers against divas. It is on.

When it was announced Beyonce would sing "At Last" at the presidential inauguration, I nearly turned my head inside out trying to figure out why they just didn't ask Etta instead. Etta feels the same way and bitch is bitter about it. During one of her concerts in Seattle the other night, Etta let it roar! Even Basement Baby hid under her bed in fright.

Etta told the audience, "You know, YOUR President, the one with the big ears-he ain’t my President–had that woman singing for him at his Inauguration. She’s going to get her ass whooped. How dare Beyonce sing MY song that I been singing forever. Now I’m going to sing it for y’all….”

FUCK YES! I felt like I've been dreaming of this moment ever since Beyonce got up there in that tight ass dress and sang Etta's song. Etta will beat the Sasha Fierce right out of Beyonce. And I want a hit of whatever Etta was smoking backstage.

Wait. Did she just diss Obama? Michelle Obama is going to have put all her rings on and tag in.

Below is audio of Etta's threat courtesy of YBF:

(Thanks Traci)

I already forgave Ronnie Wood for leaving his wife for that barely legal whore who is only sucking on his dehydrated worm to get to his cash, but I cannot forgive him for this. You might not be reading this, because you were temporarily blinded by those things on Ronnie's feet. THOSE UGHS! I bet that Tinkerwhore made him wear those things. She is making sure that no other living thing will hop on her meal ticket. Damn. She's good.

It hurts, though. Now Ronnie really looks like a rocker lady who left the wild life of the big city to move to the suburbs to raise her grandkiddies and become a soccer memaw. Painful.

Kristen Stewart & Michael Phelps should get together. They would be a match made in bong heaven - Egotastic!

Not what I needed to see today: Tommy Girl baring his Scientolotits and sucking it in - Popsugar

American Idol's Bikini Girl....in a bikini! Shocking, right? - Hollywood Tuna

Milo Ventimiglia with his hot hairy lovah - Just Jared

Hayden Panatroll's got some sexy pecs (site NSFW) - Drunken Stepfather

Sheyla Hershey and her chichichichichichichichis are making the mounds (typo and it stays) again - Jezebel

Speaking of massive chichis, here's Jesse Metcalfe! - Hollywood Rag

Cristiano Ronaldo dresses like a 12-year-old girl - Lainey Gossip

NYC local news star Sue Simmons makes a groundhog face - Towleroad

Tranny Clown's bouncing boobes - Cityrag

This is a clip of a KITTEH re-enacting me trying to jump through a window after seeing the ice cream truck go by. It happens to me every time and I still keep trying.

FYI: No kittens were broken in the making of this shit.

Before last night's episode of The Really Plastic Housewives of Orange (like their skin) County, I only knew Lynne as the genius creator of Cuff Love, the accessory that will soon take the fashion world by storm, and I also knew she had the skin of a rotisserie chicken. But I didn't know she also had the brains of a chicken. A fried chicken to be exact. A severely fried chicken to be exactly exact.

On last night's episode, the hags all packed their favorite slinky tops held by jewels (THEY ALL WEAR THOSE THINGS) and headed to Las Vegas. During a poker game and dinner, we learned that Lynne is....how do I put this delicately....um...she's a dumb fuck. Yup, the sun not only fried her skin, but it also fried her brains. Here's a couple examples:

This is Lynne at dinner: "What can you put horseradish on if you're a vegetarian?" You know she thought horseradish was made out of ponies. The waiter should have told her that vegetarians can eat horseradish on a big juicy steak. She totally would've fallen for it.

Lynne also has no idea if she has air conditioning in her house or not. It's obvious that Lynne doesn't have AC in her head house, because that shit up there is baked. She knows it. But how can you not know if you have AC in your actual house or not?! But this is Lynne we're talking about. Her body is always a toasty 85 degrees Fahrenheit. AC or not. Her burnt up skin always keeps her warm.

Now, let's take a break from big brained Lynne and talk about Gretchen for a quick second. Am I the only one bothered by the fact that the bitch is always complaining about how much stress she's under from taking care of her ailing sugar daddy? What fucking stress is she speaking of? The man comes back from the hospital and she jets off to Vegas to flirt with dick bags! And when she's not doing that, she's getting tanked at dinner parties or living it up at Lake Havasu. She's always saying shit like, "I just have to get away." Bitch is always getting away! If I hear her complain on the show about "going through so much" one more time, I'm going to slap her in the head and peel a really big apple using her jumbo ass teeths.

Okay, back to Lynne. Please go pour yourself a dirty martini with THREE blue cheese stuffed olives (Vicki's siggy drink) and watch the clip below of Lynne busting a move. Why does she dance like a horny gorilla trying to butt fuck himself with a ripe banana using no hands? And also, I'm pretty sure only dudes with blurry faces hit on Droopy Vicki.

It's been a while since we've been visited by the hottest junkie on that side of the Atlantic (Busey has that title over here) and Dreamboat Doherty even wore a bib for you! Actually, it wasn't for you. It's for him. It's just in case any rogue coke snots fall out of his nose or something. IN THIS ECONOMY, Dreamy can't afford to lose one cokey morsel. At the end of the day, he twists that bib napkin over one of his black hole nostrils. One crafty cokey!

Here's Dreamy making French drug dealers bust nuts while visiting Paris yesterday. And in thumbnail #2, that's the luckiest guitar pick that ever existed. It has Syphilis now, but it would agree with me that it's worth it.

Erykah Badu, Queen of Baduizm, is not of this world, so it's not surprising that she apparently named her new baby girl Mars Merkaba. That name sounds like a 4-seater, subcompact car with anti-lock brakes and built-in OnStar. Request that shit the next time you rent a car at Enterprise. I'm sure one will pull up in the front.

Erykah twittered (that always sounds so sexy) her new baby name, just as she twittered her damn labor. Right after she popped baby out of her twatty, Erykah twittered that they were going to name her Twitty Milk. Phew. I'm glad she was joking and it's still available. That's what I'm planning on naming my next set of anal beads. You should name all your sex toys. It brings you closer together.

MM is Erykah's first kid with Jay Electronica. She has two kids from other relationships named Puma Rose and Seven Sirius. So, we know that homegirl loves Puma sneakers, only listens to Sirius radio and can't get enough of Mars bars. Seriously, Mars, Puma and Seven? They sound like the members of an all-boy Japanese rap group.

VIA OK!