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And she bleeds human blood! I think. Although, if you put a drop of St. Angie blood under a microscope I wouldn't be surprised if you'd find a million crimson Mother Theresas winking back at you.

At the Paris premiere of that Sodium shit, St. Angie got a paper cut while signing autographs. Since St. Angie knows that the most hardcore Brangeloonies have learned the exact scent of her blood and can smell it from a thousand miles away, she quickly sucked that mess up.

And when Brad Pitt asks St. Angie later if her skinny ass finally ate a sandwich, she can tell him that she had a snack at the premiere. Bitch ain't lying!

Here's more of Angie Jo at the Salt premiere wearing a dress that would look better on a voluptuous Florida drag queen who would make those straps stretch for their lives.

Why not spend the next minute-and-a-half watching Lane, the big hot bag of dumb on Big Brother, bust all kinds of various restrained Ofaces while massaging his wang in the shower. This magical live feed moment is brought to you by Jezebel who says that right before Lane's shower date with himself, the dudes were sharing fuck stories with each other. So that probably gave Lane an urge to purge his peen.

I love how Lane is trying to be all slick by poking at his ears and nose to take the focus off the party going down below. Please, Lane should not act like he's cleaning the wax out of his ear holes when we know very well he's really focused on cleaning the jizz out of peen hole.

You know, this clip doesn't feel the same without Julie Chen popping in to say, "But first, Lane is going fuck himself." Julie should be on call 24/7 for important situations like this.

When Moses parted the Red Sea, out came Jan Crouch skipping down the center aisle with her two white dogs in tow and her cotton candy locks flowing in the wind. That's how the story really goes and somebody should tell the powers-that-be to update the Bible to reflect this!

Yesterday in NYC, the paparazzi captured the glorious images of the luminous Queen of the Trinity Broadcast Network, Jan Crouch, pushing her dogs in a stroller outside of her hotel. The mere mortal behind Jan is seconds away from handing over her pocket book (just go with me on this) before passing out into a dreamy coma where she'll imagine she's waltzing with mascara-covered tarantulas while unicorns queef out pink bubbles all around her.

I too have been there. I have spent many a drunk night watching TBN and hoping I could jump through the screen into the pink heaven about Jan's head. If you miniaturized yourself and jumped into Jan's hair, you'd probably find yourself falling out of a virgin angel's vagina up in heaven. Jan's hair is totally the portal to the heavens.

Yes, Jan would snatch a strawberry Jolly Rancher out of a hongray orphan's hands and melt it down to use as hair gel, but that's part of her charm! You have to leave a lot of orphans hongray to look that glamorous. And I'm not joking about the snatching food out of a child's hand:

Here's more of Jan out in NYC yesterday. It's as if Princess Lolly left Candyland for good and joined the Christian revival circuit as a Tammy Faye Bakker impersonator. Perfection.

If you can't get enough of this mess, please watch Jan's performance of a million lifetimes in NO MORE TEARS. It's all you need today. Gay Fish really needs to make a remix out of it.

There's good news for you hos out there who love it when your man gently taps your bare snatch with a taxidermy platypus (I've heard things), because Marilyn Manson is yours for the taking now that he's no longer spreading his clown make-up all over Evan Rachel Wood's inner thighs. Yeah, Evan Rachel Wood and Marilyn have broken up yet again. This is what People is saying anyways.

The newly single Manson, 41, then hit the town Saturday night, dining at L.A's STK and clubbing at next door Boudoir with a group including a brunette named Twiggy and former Playmate of the Year Colleen Shannon.

"They just broke off their engagement, and he needed a night out with friends," says another source.

Evan Rachel probably got fed up with Marilyn fake crying in the bathroom while trying to cut the lyrics to a Cure song into his arm with a plastic butter knife whenever she threatened to change the channel from The Munsters. And Marilyn got sick of Evan waking up every morning, staring at his face and then punching at her eyes before mumbling to herself, "You dropped ASkars for that?!"

The last time Evan and Marilyn ended things he paid tribute to their love by bludgeoning her look-alike to death in a video, so I wonder what he'll do this time. Eh. Even Marilyn probably knows he's getting too old for this shit, so I'm sure he'll just bludgeon a cherry pocket pie with his mouth instead. Good move.

Because True Blood is quickly showing Skinemax how soft core porn is really done, here's Eric, Sookeh and Beeehl all bloody and nekkid ass nekkid on the cover of Rolling Stone. Let's just say they're actually covered in Blood Mary mix. Throw ASkars into a tub full of vodka, stick a piece of celery in his no-no, grab a giant straw, dip it in and just keep sucking!

Some of you might give this cover the "GROSS" label because they are splattered in blood, but it doesn't matter to me. If ASkars was covered in bits of CROCS, UGGS lint, CHERYL BURKE'S dandruff, and White Oprah's 100 proof boogers, I'd still say goodnight and close the door. I don't think I'm alone in that either. I have a feeling that thousands of copies of this mess will get covered in more than just blood. Laminate it first!

via The Frisky

Here's Jane Fonda and the too pretty Chace Crawford at the NYC screening of "Mao's Last Dancer" looking like a recently divorced Palm Beach socialite with the boy toy she found bussing tables at her country club. This is the same kept piece who sleeps nekkid at the foot of her bed every night and as soon as he hears her and her dog simultaneously snoring, he tip toes out to the guest house to lick the chlorine residue off the South American pool boy's nutsack!

But seriously, if Chace ever needs extra coins in his hot pocket he should cuddle up to Jane, because these two make a perfect sugar memaw and her shiny toy.

Dr. Frank Ryan, the plastic surgeon who scooped out Heidi Montag's back and turned her into an inside/out Barbie, died in a Jeep accident in Malibu yesterday afternoon. Dr. Frank was only 50 years old.

TMZ reports that Dr. Frank and his border collie Jill were driving along Pacific Coast Highway when for whatever reason his Jeep went over the side and landed on the rocks. The Ventura County Fire Department and lifeguards tried to save Dr. Frank, but he was pronounced dead at the scene. Jill was found in the ocean and is being treated for serious injuries at an animal hospital.

Just a few minutes before the accident, Dr. Frank Tweeted a picture of Jill with the message: "Border collie jill surveying the view from atop the sand dune."

Since Heidi Montag can't physically push out tears, she cried via Twitter about the death of her doctor:

I am devastated to hear the news of Dr. Frank Ryan's death. He was the most amazing person I have ever known. He was an angel and changed my
4 minutes ago via web

life and the lives of everyone he met. He was the most brilliant talented surgeon who will ever exist. Dr. Frank Ryan changed the world.
2 minutes ago via web

My thoughts and prayers go out to his mother, family, friends, and anyone who was ever blessed enough to meet him. He is in a better place.
less than 5 seconds ago via web

In addition to transforming Heidi, Dr. Frank also worked on Shauna Sand, Adrianne Curry, Vince Neil and Gene Simmons.

Rest in peace, Dr. Frank. Your exquisite work will live on forever in The Empress of Lucite:

Not long after Teresa Giudice and Juicy Delicious of The Real Housewives of NJ filed for bankruptcy, they spent $60,000 on a ton of gaudy ass home furnishings. Furnishings that probably look like they were violently barfed up by a Bombay Company Outlet after it drank a whole bottle of the Olive Garden's "signature house wine."

Page Six got a hold of the court documents which show that the judge in their bankruptcy case threw a side-eye at them for spending $8,000 on curtains and almost $45,000 on other home crap just days after they declared they are broke. The judge stated, "These were not Ikea-purchased furniture items. These were from high-end design stores."

The same judge also refused to stop the auction of all of Teresa and Juicy Delicious' personal shit, but he did postpone it until October 3rd. Teresa and Juicy Delicious refused to comment when they came jumping out of the court house while banging on their chests.

All those tacky home furnishing will look beautiful in Juicy Delicious' cage after the IRS drags him away. But if the prison warden doesn't allow a 14kg knight's armor in his cell, I'm sure it will look gorgeous in the studio above the pizza place Teresa will have to move into.

Prostitution Whore-ah was also unavailable for comment, because she's too busy considering all the "incredible options" (example: Showing her love, light and square tits in the half-time show of a dog fight in Newark) presented to her following the rumor that she's been fired from RHONJ.

Here's the trailer for Joaquin Phoenix's mockumentary "I'm Still Here," which is basically hardcore porn for lice and scabies.This mess is one full minute of mangy Joaquin running around while an elder hobo rattles on about mountain top water drops and streams and shit. This pepaw is actually comparing Joaquin to a crystal clear drop of Sparkletts! Pepaw's doctor needs to up his prescription, because that's straight-up crazy talk. It sounds like pepaw snatched that shit out of the pages of Joy Luck Club.

Joaquin might be a mountain top water drop after its journey down the hill gets cut short when it runs into a giant mound of deer shit covered in thirsty maggots. But that's it! Joaquin isn't a mountain top water drop! He needs to cleanse his stank in a shower of mountain top water drops mixed with Ammonia and extra-strength RAID.

With the news that the world might lose the glamorous being in the world, and now this, Dlisted is quickly turning into SaDlisted. Adjust the number of whiskey shots in your morning coffee accordingly.

Michael Douglas' rep tells People that doctors found a tumor in his froat and he will go through eight weeks of radiation and chemotherapy to make sure that shit doesn't come back. Michael's rep didn't throw the "cancer" word around, but Dr. Nancy Snyderman said on Today this morning that the tumor is most likely malignant since he's being treated with chemotherapy. If Dr. Nancy says this, it must be so. I get all my medical info from Dr. Nancy, Doogie Howser and Nurse Bobbie.

In a 4-word statement, Michael simply said: "I am very optimistic."

I would suggest that Catherine Zeta-Jones should soothe Michael's throat with a soft lullaby, but we've all seen her melodramatic ass sing, so maybe that's not the best idea.