Crazy

Even though that turtle is dead, stuffed, dehydrated and shellacked, it's still more sane in the brains than Courtney Love. Earlier this morning, CLove posted these pictures on her Twitter of her in bed with a taxidermy turtle. Yes, it's come to this. Only a dead turtle will get in bed with Court.....after she forces it. But seriously, is Court confusing turtles with toads and thinks that if you lick 'em up good you'll start walking on sunshine?

And if you aren't following Court's Twitter, you must. Your eyes may turn inside out from trying to figure out what the hell she's writing about, but it's worth it. Court's Twitter has taken me places I've never before. Whenever I'm done reading it, I drink a big glass of orange juice to keep my roll going.

VIA The Sun

If you have a cat in the room right now, you might want to tell it to go take a walk while you watch this video. If you let it stay and watch, it will start to get ideas and expect you to give it a full-on massage WITH oils (it's a rebel).

This is a video from a magical land called the 1980s of some crazy cat lady instructing us on how to correctly massage a cat. This is basically like lady-on-cat softcore porn. For instance, she says that it's a good thing if your cat forgets to swallow and starts drooling at the mouth. That means your cat is loving your hands all over its body. Okay, does is it also a good thing if your cat lights up a cigarette after its drooling session, because that shit sounds like a happy ending. You can't fool drool.

And today's phrase that pays is: "Who's the best cat in the United States? It's you Champer Damper, it's you."

VIA Everything Is Terrible

British glitter bomb Patrick Wolf was playing a show in Germany when the mighty hands who control the PA system decided to quit his ass, because they wanted to go the hell home or something. Patrick wasn't about to be silenced, so he flipped the switch quickly and had himself a tantrum worthy of any 5-year-old girl who lost her dolly. Patrick started throwing mics, stands, spit and his dignity at the evil bitch who was trying to cut his tongue off. Don't fuck with a bitch in a onesie!

Eh. I throw the same kind of tantrum when my server goes down. Kirsty Alley also pulls this shit when the Sizzler cuts her off. And Jon Gosselin has been known to lose it like this when he can't find his favorite Ed Hardy thong. Etc.. etc....

And don't make fun of Patrick's throwing skills! I'm sure he's usually the catcher and not the pitcher.

Claire Cruise, the bag of roasted peanuts who claims she is the biological mother of all three of Michael Jackson's kiddies, held a press conference outside of her mental hospital cell the courthouse today and she dropped another BOMB. FUCKING. SHELL. Claire says she and Michael Jackson are the biological parents of Connor Cruise, Tommy Girl's son with Nicole Kidman. Escandalo! Somewhere in the world, Nicole Kidman's forehead moved for the first time in YEARS after she heard about this fuckery.

Yeah, I know we shouldn't even be feeding the crazy, but it's Monday and we all need to be entertained! So... TMZ was there when Claire told a group of interns reporters that Michael Jackson gave Tom Cruise the baby, because "he didn't like the color of his skin." Claire continued to confirm that she is from another planet by saying even though she conceived of all Michael's kids, she didn't give birth to them. Thanks to state-of-the-art technology, all of the embryos were removed from her crazy body and inserted into a surrogate.

Claire took the blue pill, didn't she? Bitch is BEYOND. Who needs to drop acid? Just spend a little time with Claire and she'll take you to another dimension.

I can't wait to see who else she drags into her crazy world. I mean, don't be surprised if she declares that Kate Gosselin's possum head is her biological child with ALF. Claire Cruise is the baby mama to the stars (in her head)!

P.S. - Dollhouse Dude, where art thou?!!!!!!!!!!!!

Above is a screen shot of Claire Elisabeth Fields Cruise's Facebook page. Claire was filed three guardianship petitions in L.A. for all three of Michael Jackson's kids. Claire says SHE IS THE MOTHER. TMZ says that Claire is also queefing that she's married to Michael Jackson, but currently engaged to Blanket's biological father. And the lunatic frosting on the crazy cake is that Claire also swears she's the baby mama of one of Tommy Girl's kids.

I really don't need to comment on any of this since Claire's dog's face in the picture above is saying everything I need to say and more. That is the look of a dog who spends his afternoons sniffing the floor for Valium pills and trying to escape by flushing himself down the toilet. I fully co-sign and notarize his "Y ME" look.

And does Claire really want to rumble with a big ass butchie in a Three Wolf Moon t-shirt? Claire will be farting out Timberlands for months.

In other "Maury Should Get On This" news, Mark Lester (the dude from the Oliver! movie) is apparently saying that he never claimed to be Paris Jackson's biological father. Over the weekend, the esteemed journals of truths known as The News of the World ran an interview with Mark where he allegedly said he believed the jizz he donated to Michael was used to make Paris. A source close to the Jackson family told People, "They twisted his words around. He's not claiming to be the father of Paris Jackson." They OLIVER TWISTED him! I'm sorry, I'll see myself out.

TMZ is saying that when Paula Abdul announced on her Twatter that she is not returning to American Idol next season, she was basically handing in her resignation. The producers still thought they were in negotiations with Vicodin's forever girl. Basically, Paula quit a job via Twitter. The internet has gone too far.

Apparently, Paula, who made around $2 million last season, asked for a 500% raise. Paula didn't feel loved by the producers when she read that Gaycrest was getting $45 million for 3 years and Simon was getting $100 million per year. When she asked for $20 million, the producers laughed until they queefed and then countered with $10 million. Instead of countering back, Paula decided to Tweet her farewell and the producers took that as her official bow. A couple of hours later, they issued a statement confirming that the crazy has left the building for good. And this morning, the stock for Vicodin hit the sky, because everyone knew where Paula was heading....

This is not the end of Paula on American Idol! I can't wait to see the look on those whore's faces when Paula comes skipping into auditions disguised as a 14-year-old girl named "Skaterina Kat" wearing her outfit from Junior High School: THE MOVIE. We're goooona have a paaaartaaaaaaay!

Oh, Paula, you'll always have the golden ticket (aka a blank prescription pad) to my HEART!

Image VIA Woman's Day

Kelly Bensimon is here (*lifts up hand above head*) and Gerard Butler is across the fucking room, because he's trying to avoid her at all costs! Gatecrasher says Gerard, who was probably mixing his booze types that night, flirted with The Real Housewives of NYC's Kelly Bensimon at a party last June. Kelly thought she was going to get a piece of The Butler, because they exchanged numbers and everything. Well, Gerry never called. Cut to last week....

Gerry and Kelly were once again at the same party. A nosy ho said that while Gerry was laying his best moves down on Rose Byrne from Damages, Kelly tried to block him from the punani. The witness said, "Kelly blocked Gerard from speaking to Rose and was flirting up a storm - but he couldn't have seemed less interested."

Manwhore Gerry has admitted that he's a lover of chichis, so my guess is that he didn't know what to make of Kelly, because he couldn't locate her damn titties! Seriously, you need a compass and a prayer to find those things. One is heading for the vacation spot called her LOWER BACK and the other one seems to be stuck in her armit. Gerry got confused, because he didn't know if that was a fake breast or if her armpit burped.

If you're ever feeling brave enough to ask Method Man for an autograph, you better strap a bullet-proof vest over your chest, pray to the Three Wolf Moon and have your best running shoes on, because you may get shot at. TMZ says that a woman in Houston is suing Method Man for shooting her with an air gun when she asked him for an autograph after a show in November 2008. LOL.

Mary Anderson said that after she tried to get Method Man to sign something for her, he whipped out an air gun and started firing pellets. Mary says she was hit around six times. Okay, I've never been shot with an air gun, but I'm guessing it hurts more than when the dick misses the hole. That means it hurts A LOT. And Mary, if someone keeps shooting at your ass, that's your cue to ruuuuuuuuun.

(Read this in a Jackee Harry voice, because it's the only way) Maaaary is suing for money. Of course.

Isn't Method Man a stoner of epic proportions? Shouldn't he be hugging on everyone and asking them if they are carrying any Fritos on their persons? Dude must have had the wrong stuff in his bong.

Maybe it was a little too soon for the men in white jackets to swing the looney bin doors open and let Mischa Barton wander out into the wild. Just a few days ago, Mischa crawled out of the crazy ward after suffering some kind "meltdown" (aka the coke went down the wrong pipe). Mischa immediately got on a plane and flew to NYC to begin work on her new TV show. Well, a source tells Page Six that homegirl should probably still be laying around in a padded room somewhere...

Mischa had dinner with friends the other night and wouldn't stop spazzing out over some stalker. The source said, "She was upset and talking frantically into her phone about having a stalker. Her friends were trying to console her, but she went outside and chain-smoked cigarettes."

A stalker? Is that what we're calling dealers we owe money? That's a good one. I'll have to remember that shit. On a positive note, if you're going to be crazy, NYC is the place to do it. If I walk more than 4 blocks without seeing some lunatic in a torn nightgown rambling on about how "their stalker is infiltrating their brains and stealing their thoughts," I start to get a little worried and homesick.

It's that time of day where we venture on down to the subway caves and listen to the Pundit of Crazy's latest philosophy on life (bring ear plugs if you're not interested). This time around, Roseanne has some advice for bitches who just can't stop inhaling life's sweet nectar (Bev and Tom Arnold, listen up)!

Roseanne queefed to Heeb Magazine, "I HATE alcoholics and AA. If you can't drink responsibly, don't drink at all. Don't go to meetings, whine about your character flaws and blame the fact that you are a sociopath on booze."

Um, doesn't Roseanne know that people only go to AA meetings for the free donuts and to get a little ass?! AA is important! Here's my advice to Roseanne: DRINK MORE. And let's another serving of CRAZY for the road. This is what Roseanne had to say about Vegans:

"Vegans are all coke-sniffing, cigarette-smoking faux socialists who listen to music that has no melody at all, so fuck them."

VIA Page Six