I Don't Like Jokes

The chlorine-covered (bro)mance between Ryan Lochte and Cullen Jones wasn't the only flower of true love that bloomed during the Olympics. Today, Geri Halliwell is receiving a special basket full of industrial-strength condoms and different kinds of topical ointments from The Department of Health, because apparently Russell Brand is spreading his dick chutney all over her ginger biscuit.

The Sun says that the ex-Mr. Katy Perry was dating American piece Isabella Brewster, but he put her on the curb so he could be with Geri full-time. Russell has always had a thing for Geri and after the two met up again during the Closing Ceremonies at the Olympics, they started dating and now suddenly it's "very serious." The two have been seen on a few dates all over London, and this past weekend they took Geri's daughter Bluebell Madonna on a tour of Hampton Court Palace. A source says that after two weeks of dating, they're already in love and shit:

"Things are getting very serious between them — they’re a proper couple now. They had met several times in the past, but really got to know each other during the Olympics. People thought Russell was joking at the time, when he said he had a crush on Geri all over again, but it was true. They just clicked — they have so much in common. He is spending so much more time in London just to be with her."

Russell Brand was married to Katy Perry for about as long as it took me to swallow three 100-calorie bags of cheese popcorn just now (SPOILER ALERT: 35 seconds) and he dated that Isabella girl for less than that and now he's suddenly in love with Ginger Spice? Uh huh. Blueballs Madonna has nothing to worry about. I know she's sick of getting the spooks every time she gets up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and runs into her half-naked "Uncle Cher" going down to the kitchen, but he'll be gone soon. Russell will dump Geri after he meets and falls in love with (insert the name of literally anything. Anything. If you typed "crocheted tampon cat toy," you're right. Russell will eventually fuck and fall in love with that).

And since we're on the subject of ginges and Katy Perry, here's the two together in L'Officiel Paris (via HuffPo).

Officers from Child Protective Services who visit OctoMom's future house of bad decisions, wherever that may be, might be wondering why Octo's 11-year-old son stands in the corner with frozen eyes and a Magic Eraser in his hand that he uses to scrub the dark-sided images from his head. This is why. Octo tells Celebuzz (via Crushable) that she is completely honest with all fifty million of her kids and the older ones knows about her fap porn debut. I doubt they know that she hugged her clit with her fingers until her eyes rolled back, but they do sort of know that the piece of Wonder Bread they're eating was bought with money she made from fucking her own body on camera. Octo puts it like this:

“I raise them in total honesty, so they’ll never have any resentment or harbor resentment when they grow up. They do [know] to a certain degree. They do not know the total details, but I raise them in total honesty.

They’re totally desensitized…our experiences allowed all of us to pull out strengths we didn’t know we possess.”

Octo truly is operating on a different frequency than the sane. Total honesty? I'm not a parent and I know that you're not supposed to fill your children's ears with the truth all the time. That's just crazy bitch talk. If the world becomes an even more fucked up place by me becoming somebody's dad, I'm so not going to tell them the truth. I'm going to lie to them all the time. It's the best thing for everyone. "No, kid, I wasn't drinking drunk juice while watching you and your little friends play in the park. It was grape juice and it was unsweetened, which is why I didn't give you any. I don't know why your friends told you that. They must have a disease that makes them lie all the time! I forbid you to see them anymore! Not really, but I've always wanted to say that." "No, kid, I can't buy you that candy. Did you know that every time a parent gives into their kid's whines and buys them a candy at the checkout lane, a kitten gets diabetes?"

The only thing I won't lie to my kid bout is the Santa thing. I won't let some fake bitch get all the credit for me standing in a long ass line with a bunch of assholes at KMart on December 24th to buy some dumb toy.

That being said, it was good of Octo to tell her kids. When they go on the Internet and Google "How can I get a pack of wolves to adopt me?", they'll eventually somehow run into their mom's self-fuck video. They're going to find out anyway.

And when Octo tells her kids about her ear-murdering song, they'll each respond by doing this:

Damn that selfish Katie Holmes for only thinking of her selfish self by not dragging Tommy Girl to court to squeeze more gold bars out of him for the sake of Suri's future luxurious lifestyle. The courts officially shaved Katie from the bottom of Tommy's face this week when a judge finalized their semi-quickie divorce and now TMZ has all the details of what she actually got. Because Katie insists on being an independent woman, doing it for herself (copyright: Kandi from RHOA), she turned down monthly spousal support and a lump sum. The only thing Katie is getting is her soul back and $33,333.33 a month in child support from Tommy. Yes, ONLY $33k a month! That won't even cover half of Suri's monthly shoe budget. Let's let the self-talking Madame puppet that is Brayden from A-List: Dallas express our thoughts about this tragic news (skip to the 0:10 mark):

Yes, Brayden, I'm as sear-eeee-ess as the heart attack the manager of Suri's own personal Louboutin factory will have after he finds out he has to shut everything down, because she can't afford their services anymore. I'm Surious!

Tommy will spend a total of $4.8 million on child support by giving Katie $33k a month until Suri turns 18. Tommy is also paying for most of Suri's expenses including tuition for her fancy school, health insurance, college and medical and dental bills. Both Tommy and Katie both agreed that Suri will never go to boarding school. TMZ says that if Katie took Tommy to court, she would've gotten a lot more, but she just wanted to get away  rom his crazy ass soon as possible.

For Suri's sake, I hope that Katie's team leaked false documents to TMZ to make it look like she didn't get paid millions upon millions of dollars to keep her lips shut about Tommy putting his mouth over every hole at the Scientology glory hole. This has to be a mistake. But sadly, I sort of believe it, because Suri's been taking a lot of cabs (aka mobile poor movers) and here she is taking another cab last week. I hate Katie for this, especially because you know Blue Ivy Carter sent Suri a tweet about these pictures and you know that tweet said: NOT EVEN CARMEL?! LuLz!

Apparently, Clarence House threatened to punish any British publication that publishes the pictures that have been called the greatest work of modern art since the hologram cover for Prince's Diamonds and Pearls CD (that shit really blew my mind as a kid), and that punishment includes feeling their brain cells slip out of their ear holes while suffering death by boredom from having tea with Prince William and Duchess Kate. So some bitches had to get creative and The Sun handled it by recreating the pictures using a Prince Hot Ginge lookalike who looks nothing like PHG. My asshole looks more like PHG than this shit poor excuse for a look-alike does. Okay, that's not really true, because if my b-hole looked more like PHG than this impostor, I wouldn't be writing this post right now. I'd be in yoga class, trying to stretch my head all the way to my PHG-looking no-no hole to whisper sweet nothings into it.

I'm happy that Bud Bundy is actually getting work as a PHG stand-in, but this is just lazy! Okay, I know The Sun is trying to be smart by getting one of their reporters named Harry to do the "cupping the crown jewels" pose, but they could've at least glued some saffron to dude's chest so it looks like he has a field of red chest hairs. Seriously, The Sun should be the ones getting punished, not PHG.

UsWeekly says that PHG is back in England and he and his royal guards are facing the wrath of THE QUEEN. But some palace aide says that nobody will be sent to the Halifax Gibbet:

"Of course questions will be asked, and matters raised, but no one's job is on the line. As protection officers, their job is to intervene when his life is at risk, not to protect his image."

The Queen didn't give three shits about the Olympics, so I'm hoping she wont' give three shits about this. I bet that once PHG waltzes into her throne room, she'll excuse everybody from the room by ordering them to immediately bleach her Corgis b-holes, then she'll make a lot of noise like she's beating the foolery out of him. But she'll actually pat him on the back and then ask him how many of those skanks did he knight with his royal crotch scepter? That's exactly how it's going to go down.

If you're a member of the British royal family and The Queen doesn't beat you with a pocketbook full of bricks for going pants-off wild in Las Vegas, then you really didn't go for enough. So Prince Hot Ginge should give himself a pat on the taint (and he should do it naked.... in his VIP suite at the Wynn... in front of a bunch of sluts with iPhones who will sell the pictures to TMZ) for a job well done, because apparently the royal family isn't happy that he has dirtied up their pristine, proper image with his filthy hot ginger nipples. (Note: Will somebody please tell the royal family that their pristine image was already smeared with a Prince Charles-faced tampon.)

One source tells UsWeekly that Prince William is "not impressed" (read: jealous, because nobody wants to see his shit), and not only is PHG in trouble, but so are his royal guards for not throwing themselves on his naked body when somebody pulled an iPhone out. The Guardian says that Clarence House confirmed that the pictures are of PHG. (Note: That sound is me sighing with relief, because it's been confirmed that I did NOT twist my nipples last night to pictures I thought were of PHG, but were actually grainy pictures of a shaved ginger alley cat humping a Chinese Crested dog in a motel conference room.) The Guardian also says that Clarence House told the British media to respect PHG's privacy by not republishing the pictures. If a British publication publishes any of the pictures, Clarence House might report them to the Press Complaints Commission. As of this morning, the BBC, The Sun and The Daily Mail all wrote about the story, but kept the pictures off of their sites.

Let's set aside all the jokes about how I nearly had to call Sun Jifa with my nose after almost fapping my hands off to those PHG pictures last night. This is a serious matter! PHG should be punished, because he has a duty to represent the British royal family with class, dignity and grace. I've done my research and the official scroll of British royal rules, or whatever, clearly states: Any member of the immediate British royal family (besides Prince Charles, Camilla, The Queen, Prince William, Duchess Kate and anybody else other than Prince Hot Ginge) who gets caught with all of his panties off must immediately be taken to the town square, disrobed and flogged twelve times with a union jack dildo. Those are the rules, so bring on the flagellation! If you read that as "bring on the fagellation," that works too!

Here's JLo giving Casper Smart the silent treatment just minutes after he got kicked out of the pool for making a poopy in the shallow end. How was Casper supposed to know that sometimes a fart brings a friend? They didn't teach him that in potty training class! JLo so should've left Casper in her hotel suite with her other kids, but she didn't want him crawling away to the nearest gay glory hole.

Never mind that JLo is at a pool party at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas and is wearing the most clothes I've ever seen her wear, the real story here is that apparently Prince Hot Ginge was at this party and I couldn't find one picture of his Red Hot nipples melting under the sun.

E! News says that the Bellagio fountain squirted higher than usual yesterday, because royal panty cream-inducer Prince Hot Ginge was in Las Vegas and partied at that pool party JLo hosted. Some source who was there had this to say:

"It was his first Vegas pool party. He was with a group of around six to seven friends and just wanted to have fun with the boys. He was in town to take a break and have fun. He was letting loose, and swimming and dancing to the music. It was great to see him acting like any normal guy. Harry and his friends even had a blow up whale in their area, they were just fooling around and joking and having some drinks and just enjoying themselves."

Okay, whores will whip out their phones to take multiple pictures of their stupid food and they'll post that shit to Twitter like people care, and yet I can't find one picture of PHG making the pool water boil by sticking his toes in there? What is wrong with people?! If a topless PHG is in front of you and you do not have a recording device to capture that important moment in history, you grab a napkin, prick your finger and draw that image in BLOOD! Or maybe PHG isn't in Las Vegas. Maybe it was really Carrot Top with his hair pulled back into a bun, because I confuse the two all the time.

The only way we'll know if PHG is really in Las Vegas is if all the lights dim tonight to honor the ultimate dome of luminous light on his head.

UPDATE: YAAAAASSSS! Thanks to KHx for dropping the tingles on me by sending in a picture of PHG partying in Vegas on Saturday. No, my eyes aren't burning from getting poked by his nipples, but he is showing his royal pits and doing the douche pose, so I'll take what I can get.

You know, I CAN'T with PHG's friend. If PHG is sitting on your shoulders, you pray to be possessed by a demon so that your head can do the Exorcist head twist right into his crotch. Or you pray to the gods above to give you a mouth on the back of your neck.

UPDATE #2: If you need me, I'll be sitting at The Sun all day, because they have PHG nipple pictures  complete with his five-lane happy trail. Today is also the day that I'm actually jealous of a giant beach ball, a giant beach ball that is probably knocked up with little ginger ball babies now.

Leave it to a jacked up baby name to remind all of us that The Real Housewives of Atlanta's Kim Zolciak was still pregnant with her next Life & Style cover inside blurb. For some reason, my brain dumped out the file drawer in my head labeled "highly important information," because I completely forgot Kim was knocked up with her fourth child. But she was, and yesterday in Atlanta one of her assistants held down her birthin' wig and had a lit cigarette ready when she popped out her second kid with Kroy Biermann. Kim tweeted (via UsWeekly) the news last night and then made Pimp Mama Kris reach for a pre-written cease and desist letter when she spit up the name of her second son:

KASH KADE BIERMANN!!!!!!!!

Kash Kade as in cascade, as in the stuff that knocks the shit off your dishes or the waterfall of miserable tears that will fall out of Kash Kade's tear ducts when he realizes what his name is. Kash Kade sounds like the name of a failed professional wrestler turned DJ at Senor Frogs who decorates his apartment with empty limited-edition Red Bull cans and prides himself on having the most gold chains amongst all his friends. With a name like Kash Kade, that baby was definitely born with a rhinestone grill in his mouth.

And I was joking about Kim and Kanye naming their baby Kash Kade. They're going to be more subtle than that when she butt births out Lucifer's next spawn. Kim and Kanye will name him Ka$h Kardashian, thankyouverymuch.

And vampires don't even eat food!

Jon Stewart started a food giveaway trend on Monday night when he gave Robert Pattinson a pint of Ben & Jerry's to try break the awkward ice. George Stethoscope-olous tried to do the same thing on Good Whoring America today by giving RPattz a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch (more like Cinnamon Toast BARF!) and it really didn't work out as well. Just like Jon Stewart, George didn't bring up Kirsten Stewart's name, but he did tip toe around the subject and it became clear that RPattz would rather shampoo his hair than talk about personal shit. George and RPattz's awkward intro about "you know what" went like this:

George: Your performance in Cosmopolis blah blah blah and I want to get to it, but I know you know this, I gotta get the elephant in the room out of the way. Everybody just wants to know, how are you doing and what do you want your fans to know about what's going on? In your personal life?

RPattz: I mean, you know... They seem pretty excited about kind of whatever. I'd like my fans to know that Cinnamon Toast Crunch only has 30 calories a bowl in it, for instance. Pretty much everything that comes out of my mouth is irrelevant.

Yeah, that went well. I love how talking to RPattz has turned every talk show host, journalist, reporter, whatever into his mom and they're afraid of cracking his precious snowflake skin. I kept waiting for George to say shit like, "Are you sure you're okay? Have you been pooping regularly? That might help. Do you want a grilled cheese? I'll cut the edges off. How about a warm compress for your tummy? A lavender bath? You know you'll always be my beautiful angel, right?"

I mean, is it that serious? Just get it over with and shout at him, "Do you hate the tramp or it this just the STUNT QUEEN stunt of all STUNT QUEEN stunts?" This is just getting out of hand. There are children starving and we're giving all of our food to RPattz! He better start his own food bank.

Here's RPattz strolling around NYC last night and you can't tell from these pictures, but even the starving homeless people are throwing cakes and cookies at him.

Things we don't need: from Hollywood: A sequel to Ho White and The Cuntsman. 

Things Hollywood will give us anyway, because they know we'll throw our money at them if they make it shiny: A sequel to Ho White and The Cuntsman. 

The Hollywood Reporter says that because Snow White and The Huntsman made almost $400 million worldwide, Universal is planning a sort of sequel. I say "sort of" sequel, because the Snow White in Snow White and The Huntsman won't be in the next movie. Universal probably thinks that if they put Kristen Stewart and Rupert Sanders on the same set again, those two whores will spend all their time dry humping each other's faces in her trailer and the movie will never get made (that's not a bad thing). So Universal has taken a red Sharpie and scribbled a giant L (short for lip-biting home wrecker whore) on KStew's face before kicking her out of the sequel. Universal's sequel will be all about The Huntsman. So basically, it's going to be a day at the ren faire with Thor.

David Koepp, who wrote the first movie, has also been kicked out, because the sequel has become something other than the movie they hired him to write. Universal hasn't hired a director for the sequel, but Rupert Sanders is still on a list of possibilities.

But wait. Universal tells The Los Angeles Times that The Hollywood Reporter's story isn't exactly made of 100% truthfulness. They say that yes, they are working on a movie about The Huntsman, but Kristen Stewart's Snow White might still be in it. My guess is that Snow White will only be the first part. You know, Snow White will be caught getting her pussy eaten by a married dwarf in Cinderella's pumpkin car and they'll banish that slut to the Whore Forest.

No, I don't think we need a movie about The Huntsman, but I will approve of it as long it's nothing but 2 hours of Chris Hemsworth carrying a baby (see old pictures from July below). Or Chris Hemsworth can carry a dwarf or a bag of crab apples for 2 hours. I don't care about the details as long as he's cradling something in his "anaconda swallowing a warthog" arms.

There was a frowning rainbow over Croatia this weekend, and that's because when the Silver Fox frowns, rainbows frown and the Silver Fox was frowning after finding out that his live-in piece Ben Maisani was caught humping mouths with a side piece a day before they left for their vacation. Some source tells Life & Style that the locks of pure silver on Anderson's head temporarily lost their shine when he got sad about the pictures. And that means I need to sell a few of my beaten down internal organs to Priceline in exchange for a one-way ticket to Croatia, because I'm needed...and because I don't think the restraining order he has out against me is valid there. The source said this:

"Anderson was with Ben in Croatia when he was told about the photos. They were on a yacht. They flew to Croatia on Aug. 11, one day after the photos were taken. Anderson's upset -- who wouldn't be?"

Guess who else is in Croatia with Anderson and that bag of muscles and slutiness he calls a boyfriend? Andy Cohen! Anderson tweeted a pic he took of Andy in Croatia today and Andy tweeted about being in Croatia with Anderson. I know what's going on here. Anderson is going to be so upset that he's going to run out onto the deck of the yacht to softly weep tears of betrayal under the stars. Then Andy is going to slither out onto the deck, grab a step stool, stand on it and let Anderson cry it out on his titties. And since Andy's eyes are naturally in the derp position at all times, Anderson won't even notice that his right eye will be on the lookout for Ben. Bitch is so going to take advantage of a vulnerable Silver Fox right there on the poop deck!  How shameful, Andy! Smart and something I would do, but still fucking shameful!