Brittany Murphy

Now I know why my abuelita thinks public displays of affection are sucio and should be illegal. Hand me a petition, and I'll sign it in blood that came pouring out of my eye holes when I first saw these pictures of Brittany Murphy kissing on her screenwriter/conman husband Simon Monjack at LAX today.

Aw. I shouldn't dry heave all over their love. They look happy (?). I mean, Simon is kissing on Brittany like she's a Twinkie Casserole. And she's kissing him back like he's a Collagen needle, so that's all that matters.

However, that poor dog is about to stage her own death.

TMZ reports that the cops were called to Brittany Murphy's Hollywood house at 2:30 this morning after neighbors say she was screaming on her balcony about hearing gun shots in her yard. When officers strolled up, Brittany continued to freak out about the supposed shoot out. After conducting a short investigation (aka using their common sense for two seconds), the police figured out that the noise was coming from an angry generator.

And upon further further inspection, they declared the generator NOT GUILTY, because the noise was actually Brittany Murphy's weather balloon lips popping again. Don't worry though, the cops drove her to the nearest gas station and attached her lips to an air pump. So Britt is back to normal.

You know, I shouldn't make fun of this crazy since I have been known to jump in bushes after hearing a car's engine backfire. You never know when a Mop Head, or a Wonky, or a Hagel is coming after your ass.

She's not Tai from "Clueless" anymore. Page Six reports that Brittany Murphy has become a major diva bitch on the set of her new movie and has everyone frustrated. Brittany is currently shooting "Across the Hall" and has been making outrageous demands.

A source said, "She's extremely difficult. When she gets to the set, it comes to a grinding halt. She's so hot and cold, you never know."

The source also said Brit makes assistants remove all the crusts off her diagonally cut peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "She needs one every hour. It's painstaking - her assistant takes about a half an hour making each one." Her assistant needs to invest in a jar of Smucker's Goober.

Restylane is a hell of a drug. In Brit's defense, diagonally cut sandwiches with the crusts removed is probably the only thing she can fit in her mouth. It takes the assistant 30 minutes to make one, but it probably takes Brit an hour to eat it. She probably has to get her head in the right position and then her assistant kicks the sandwich in. It's not Brit's fault! Blame the Restylane!

It's time to Brittany Murphy to divorce that fug husband of hers. Desperate times call for desperate measures. That man is clearly sucking the cute out of her. What kind of husband won't tell his wife, "Bitch, you have pussy lips!" Brittany needs to hear this. She also needed to be told that her garage sale ensemble isn't cute. Those shoes were definitely fished out of a Salvation Army bin somewhere.

I still love her and if she said to me, "Cher, you're a virgin who can't drive" I would probably drop dead on the spot.

Here's Brit with beast husband at a fashion week event yesterday. Yeah, fashion week.

Wenn, Splashnewsonline.com

It's a sad day when a drug like restylane has killed Brittany Murphy's smile. All she's missing is a red nose and a clown hat and the look is complete. Fuck Crack! Restylane is whack!

Here's sad clown Brittany at various Fashion Week with her beast of a husband. He always reminds me of Harry from Harry and the Hendersons. Without the big dick of course.

Wenn, Splashnewsonline.com