Crazy

That oily, rank-smelling drops of nastiness that just appeared on your monitor is from potent sarcasm dripping from that title. In case you didn't already know from that cloud of insanity hovering over L.A., the joint ambassadors of CRAZY, Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubry, are turning their pretty faces into uglycrazyfaces while fighting over Nahla in court. Gabriel loses his shit over every move Halle makes and Halle loses her shit over every move Gabriel makes. The whole scene is messier than a fist party catered by Metamucil. So that's why it's such a perfect time for Halle to pick up Nahla and move all the way to France to be with her piece Olivier Martinez. And of course, Gabriel is taking the news so well that he's bought Nahla a beret and has taught her how to say "I have the best and sanest mommy ever" in French. Only, he's not.

TMZ says that Halle's lawyers filed papers yesterday asking the court to approve her move to France. A hearing will be scheduled soon and workers are currently padding the walls of the court room since bitches are obviously going to get crazy. One source tells TMZ that Gabriel thinks this is Halle's way of trying to keep him from his daughter and he doesn't like that Nahla is going to live with Olivier full-time. TMZ thinks Halle has a case, because her stalker has broken into her house a few times and Nahla might be safer in Europe.

Why didn't Halle just make a baby with Gabriel, dump him as soon as she got knocked up, stage a photo-op outside of a sperm donation center and then deny deny away when he asks her if the kid is his. That's what any reasonable person would do! Because it's pretty obvious that Halle only wanted Gabriel's baby-making chowder and is trying to push him out of the picture for good so she can have Nahla all to herself. Halle is just adding another layer of crazy to this overgrown pile of crazy.

The only good that can come out of this is that Gabriel will star in a real life remake of Not Without My Daughter:

Yes, even during high pressure situations, Gabriel still keeps it cool enough to make a sexy model face.

Connor Cruise, the 17-year-old son of Tommy Cruise and the sometime son of Nicole Kidman, has once again proven that old saying "the rotten apple doesn't fall from the insane fucking tree" right. Since Connor has a famous last name and can press play on an iTunes playlist, he DJs at fancy events now and DirecTV hired him to play songs at their pre-Super Bowl party on Saturday night in Indianapolis. Connor's ex-publicist, Todd Krim was also in Indianapolis for the Super Bowel and after the New England Tom Bradys (since he's obviously the only player on the team, Gis) lost against the Giants, Todd rubbed the loss into the Pats-loving skin of Connor Cruise by Tweeting this to him: “Sorry @TheConnorCruise maybe next year!!!”

Just like his daddy, Connor has the sense of humor of one of Xenu's wet dingles and so he freaked out at Todd in an e-mail response to him. Never fuck with your former publicist, because they will pass that e-mail to Page Six:

That was a gay ass [bleeping] tweet . . . U don’t say [bleep] like that about my team the second they lose. Low.”

Todd wrote back and said he was joking, to which Connor responded with: “That was [bleeped] and Idgaf!" Todd told Page Six that he was offended by Connor's rant and that he wasn't expecting that kind of response after everything he's done for him. Connor then jumped on the back of his rep's Big Wheel and back pedaled all the way back with this statement to P6:

"What I texted was unacceptable. It is not a reflection of who I am and what I feel, and it certainly won’t happen again.”

It's no surprise that Connor is redefining "spoiled," but is it really that serious? It's just a football game (insert a horse kick from Gisele Bundchen to my ass bone here). Connor should take his frustrations out by jumping on Oprah's couch or by calling Matt Lauer glib. There's no need to go [bleep]ing crazy on an adult over a stupid joke. That dumb joke wasn't low at all. Low is being a part of a church that won't let your Auntie John Travolta proudly lick on the Dominican peen he loves so much in public. That's low.

And what's with that "gay ass [bleeing] Tweet" shit? Let me fix that for you, Connor: "That was a MY FATHER ass [bleeping] tweet." There, that's a little better.

Unless Khia announces that she's running for President on the Bust A Nut Party's ticket, my vote goes to Roseanne who is promising us a change we can smoke up! Roseanne officially announced on Twitter last night that she has filed all of the paperwork to run for President as a Green Party candidate. If the Four Horsemen, locusts, false prophets and dead fish are allowed to vote, Roseanne will become President in 2012 and she says that she will legalize the good shit in every state, wipe away everybody's credit card debts and give us a European-style healthcare system. Roseanne had me checking her name on the ballot at "legalize the good shit." But Roseanne's promises do sound like some crap you'd read on a 14-year-old's "If I Were President" essay.

This is the statement she released to E! News about her latest STUNT QUEEN move:

"I am pleased to announce that I am seeking the Green Party's nomination for President of these United States of America. The Democrats and Republicans have proven that they are servants—bought and paid for by the 1%—who are not doing what's in the best interest of the American people. As a long time supporter of the Green Party, I look forward to working with people who share my values. Behold the greening of America!"

Roseanne is made of pure crazy, doesn't make sense a lot of the time and would probably use her powers as President to become a billionaire by forcing us to eat macadamia nuts daily for the next four years. Bitch will fit right in with the other candidates! And I really hope that she chooses Crystal Conner as her running mate.

Fran Drescher and her ex-husband Peter (the one who ended their marriage after declaring his undying love for peen) both have the same kind of scar on the same spot and that could only mean one thing: they were both kidnapped by aliens, microchipped and programmed to meet each other. Obviously. Fran tells HuffPo that when she was in junior high school, the aliens beamed her up into their spaceship and tagged her ass. It's like the recurring wet dream that Tommy Girl wishes would become real life.

"You know, it's funny because Peter and I both saw [aliens] before we knew each other, doing the same thing, driving on the road with our dads. We were both in junior high. A few years later, we met, and we realized that we had the same experience. I think that somehow we were programmed to meet. We both have this scar. It's the exact same scar on the exact same spot."

I bet that when the aliens shimmied the chip up under her skin, Fran let out one of her ear hair-burning laughs and the aliens immediately dropped her back on earth before vowing to never subject themselves to torture like that again. Fran single-handedly saved us from an alien invasion! But seriously, Fran and Peter weren't TAKEN. Those bitches just did way too many whip-its and freebased way too many spices in junior high school. That scar is probably from a bong burn. I'm sure Demi Moore is also telling her therapist that she was abducted by damn aliens.

Ooooh, breakup by text, you have just been demoted to level #2 on the coldest shit you can do scale. Pilar Sanders, the apparently soon to be ex-wife of the legendary football great Deion Sanders, says she found out about their impending divorce on TMZ.com.  Ho-lee-shit. Stock in Ben N' Jerry's and Smith and Wesson just bounced off the charts.

According to TMZ, his wife's lawyer says, "Pilar's sole focus and top priority for the last 12.5 years has been her marriage and children. Based on recent discoveries, [Pilar] now realizes that Deion did not view their family the same way." OUCH. And translation: Deion, just do the right thing and open that wallet. Breaking up with your wife of 12 years and baby mama via internet? New low. *slow claps and writes that down as how to do shit WRONG*

Damn, Deion.  I would think after 12 years, and stretching her body out for your babies, you could at least send her an email.  This bitch is gonna get half plus child support, and you have nobody but your soul-less ass to thank for it.  Enjoy driving around in your Geo Metro!  And RIP common decency. Team Pilar and Deions' babies.

Unless your name is Lamar Odom, then you obviously love hippos more than this hippoholic does. Anywhydoyouride, do your remember that classic masterpiece of a video from a few years ago of those drunken Irish slags ruining their baby's innocence by fighting about his wandering peen in the middle of the street? If you've been to Louvre lately you've seen it since it's their star piece. In that video, the one drunk slag says "WHY DO YOU RIDE HIPPOS?!" over and over again to the other drunk slag. Well, Sue Shefman knows what they're talking about, because she rides a hippo every day. Sue is so crazy about hippos that she turned her RAV4 into one.

If Brad Pitt loved shampoo as much as Sue loves hippos, I wouldn't have thin layers of grease on my retinas from looking at his pictures. If Herman Cain loved monogamy as much as Sue loves hippos, we'd still have his crazy gems to take us higher (RIP Pizza 4 President). If Lindsay Lohan loved not fucking up as much as Sue loves hippos, she wouldn't be spreading her carnicería in her Playboy for a check (actually she still would). If Anderson Cooper loved bitter skinny fat gay bloggers with zero taste as much as Sue loves hippos, then he'd probably be committed since his loved ones would be concerned about his mental well-being.

And yes, if I had the drunks and saw that RAV4 hippo in a parking lot, I'd totally hump it from the back.

via Buzzfeed

An Australian woman named Valeska Paris used to be a member of Tommy Girl's Happy Time Fun Church Of Crazy (aka Scientology) and is now talking to the media about how she was pretty much forced into doing slave labor on the organization's cruise ship called Freewinds (not to be confused with Rosie O'Donnell's Big Gay Cruise). Valeska was allegedly sent to work on the ship as punishment after her mom quit Scientology. For 12 years, Valeska slaved away for up to 18 hours a day on the ship's lower levels and was treated like shit out of a Thetan's ass by Scientology's head bitch in charge David Miscaviage. Valeska somehow got away and even though she's permanently scarred and can't even watch a Carnival cruise ship commercial without busting into a panic attack, she has amazing stories to tell. Some of those stories came from the time she worked Tommy Girl's big gay birthday extravaganzaaaaaa in 2004. Nobody brings the crazy like Scientology so you know this shit is going to be good.

Valeska tells the Village Voice (via The Superficial) that before his imperial space highness beamed down onto the ship, the slaves were told to only address him as "sir" and to not ask him for an autograph. The party was basically a giant finger banging Tommy in the butt. It was a Tom Cruise-theme party and there posters of his movies everywhere and the band played songs from his movies (except the ones he did with Nicole Kidman). But Valeska didn't even get to work Tommy's birthday party because her lip committed an act of treason:

“David Miscavige saw that I had a cold sore, and I was assigned to lower conditions and I was put in isolation for 4 days,” she says. She explains that she was assigned the “condition” of “Treason,” which is below “Enemy” but above “Confusion.”
“I was in Treason. So I wasn’t allowed to go to Tom Cruise’s birthday.”

So that's why Katie "Herp Sore" Holmes always looks like she's been chained to a steam pipe for days on an end. Because she has!

Valeska wasn't the only woman on the ship who got punished:

And she says three young women from the IASA—the administration of the International Association of Scientologists—were disciplined after the party. "They were trying to get Tom's attention. So they were put in the engine room."

They really should've just put all of the women in the engine room at the beginning of the party, because we all know how pussies burst out a tsunami of barley cream every time Tommy sashays around. David Miscaviage knows this and warned the females of the crew before Tommy arrived:

“He said, ‘Tom Cruise is coming and I need really good service, so who’s going to serve him?’ A woman spoke up. ‘No, no, it can’t be a woman, because he’s so good looking, any woman would fall for him.’ So a guy had to take the job,” she says.

If you gathered a million people in the same place and told that line, their full body laughs would send the earth flying into Xenu's volcano. They should make wallpaper with that line on it and cover the closet walls with it. Yeah, Tommy can't get near any woman or they will instantly fall in love with him, which is why he only surrounds himself with hot man pieces. "Sorry, I can't fuck you, because you have a vagina and you'll instantly fall in love with me" is probably a line Tommy used often. Well played, Tommy!

Here's a video from Tommy's birthday party of him trying to sing with The X-Factor's Stacy Francis. This is like that awkward moment during your office holiday party when you realize that your drunk co-worker who is acting the fool isn't drunk, he's just naturally fucking crazy.

If I was at that party, I'd find a way to give myself a cold sore so I could be banished to the damn engine room and put out of my misery.

And here's Tommy sweating his pit Thetans off with Brad Bird and Paula Patton at the press conference for Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol in Tokyo today. All you women folk, don't stare too long or else you'll fall in loooooove.

"Locks kids in bedrooms while she gets drunk..." Isn't that called a natural human maternal instinct? If you're not old enough to know that "on the rocks" is for amateurs since ice just gets in the way, then be gone with you. Go upstairs and blast your happy little music, because the last thing I need is some child messing with my buzz by crying when I start breaking empty bottles on the floor lamp for looking at me funny. Hiccup. Burp. Crash. But apparently, St. Angie's former assistant thinks that banishing your kids to their bedrooms during "mommy time" is considered crazy. Yup, that assistant is the kind of bitch who will judge with their eyes when you piss in the kitchen sink, because your legs are too drunk to make it the hallway bathroom.

In this week's holiday week issue (aka The 'We're Out Of This Bitch Early So Just Make Shit Up" issue) of InTouch Weekly, one of Angie's assistant says that she may come off as the epitome of calm when the cameras are around, but when she's out of the public eye her true colors (every color being a bright shade of INSANE) break out of their straitjacket and come out to play. The source puts it like this: "She tries to hide it, but she has a crazy side to her that’s beyond just being quirky. In the end, she just can’t hide the crazy.”

The source also says that she may no longer wear a vial of blood around her neck, but she's still finding creative ways to creep everyone out. They say Angie saves all of her childrens' scabs and locks herself down in the basement for hours on end:

“When Angelina’s kids get cuts and scrapes, she saves their discarded bandages in a large jar,” the friend reveals to In Touch. “She thinks she’s being edgy and artistic, but to others, she just seems weird. She thinks she’s being edgy and artistic, but to others, she just seems weird.

She locks herself in the basement every day and exercises for hours. No one is to bother her during that time.”

Burrows herself in the basement for hours and keeps a jar of grossness? I've seen this episode of American Horror Story before. Bitch ain't putting a six pack on her arm veins or trying to make her bones skinnier by running on the treadmill for hours. Bitch is making the ultimate super Brangelina child using the dirty Band-Aids from all of her children. It's going to have cheeks likes Shiloh, an up-eye like Zahara, anime hair like Maddox, the ability to float like Pax and the majestic angel wings of the twin messiah. Angie's going to call it ShiZa MaPaViNo, or "GOD" for short. This brings a whole new terrifying meaning to the term "Band-Aid baby."

The Beliebers are sharpening their rattles into shanks, asking their parents to get them a PlaySkool gat for Christmas and turning grade school poems into adorable death threats, because one of their own has gone rogue by claiming that Justin Bieber knocked her up during 30-second not-so-sexy times in a backstage bathroom at one of his concerts. Buzzfeed put together the best death threat Tweets made by a bunch of Beliebers who really need a chancleta-wielding abuelita in their lives. Reading those Tweets is the best birth control, because who wants their child to join these baby-worshiping crazies as the future of humanity? My parts don't even make ovaries and I'm about to shove an old school Depo Provera syringe up my asshole just in case. Moving on....

I guess Mariah Yeater's 3-month-old son doesn't have a Hasbro tag sticking out of his big toe and a preliminary DNA test could not confirm or deny that he's half teddy bear, because her lawyers still want Justin Bieber to submit a sample. Lawyers for the 20-year-old crazy ho (seen in a bathroom and bedroom photo shoot below) tell Radar that they have every reason to believe that The Lesbeaver is the father of her child and the only way to prove this is with DNA. Justin's lawyers deny that he ever even met her and he's filing his own lawsuit against her for defamation. But Mariah's pepaw, Eddie Markhouse, tells The NYDN that his granddaughter only does underage yodeling fetuses and she does not do lie-telling.

“I don’t know the whole story. But, from what I understood, she met him at a concert and he sent two security guards down off of the stage to bring her backstage to meet him. She said they partied, had some drinks and they indulged in sex … She’s basically an honest good person. She’s got a big heart. She’s a good kid and she loves this baby.”

Oh, I believe that Mariah feels nothing but love for her baby. If I had a child that I loved, I'd want to tell him that he was made when a drunk superstar toddler humped on me for half a minute in the dirty stall of some bathroom. Then I'd tell my baby that I didn't sue his father for the money. I did it for the legal right to use his last name on the birth certificate. I mean, if Justin is the father, then Mariah's baby's last name will be: Yeater-Bieber. YEATER FUCKING BIEBER! Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner for the best hyphenated last name ever. Think about it. Grab your tongue and say Yeater-Bieber really fast. EAT. HER. BEAVER.

You are definitely not a loving and caring mother if you keep your child from having a last name like that.

If your type of man is a leaning tower of crazy who would come in second place in a karate match against the air and who can grow a furry light brown piece of dog turn from his chin like no other, then put your hand under your butt and fart out that four leaf clover, because it's your lucky day. Weston Cage, the 20-year-old son of Nicolas Cage, filed for divorce from the woman he allegedly got violent on during a drunken fight last July. E! News says that Weston and Nikki Williams Cage were married for 6 months. That's pretty much FOREVER in Kardashian time.

The World of Warcraft Britney isn't wasting MAC liquid eyeliner by crying it out onto his face cheeks. Weston is doing what his insanesei Nicolas Cage taught him to do. He's putting on some pussy-catching eyeliner, slapping a new layer of polish on his nails and karate kicking his way to the ladies. Weston put himself back on the market with this note on Facebook:

WELL ITS OFFICAL . THE DIVORCE IS SETTLED! ..................LADIES, DADDY IS BACK ahahahhahahaahh oh god! its on

"Ahahahhahahaahh oh god!" is the same thing Weston's new piece is going to say to herself when he makes her call him daddy right before the babysitter his father hired knocks on the door to make sure they're both on top of the covers.