Pepaws

A shiny brand new newborn baby should be calling 68-year-old Robert De Niro "PEPAW!!!" instead of "Daddy?" but the latter is what's going down in the De Niro house this holiday weekend. Because Robert's old ass and his wife Grace Hightower are parents to a baby girl born via a leased baby oven. The baby girl has a 13-year-old brother named Elliot and a bunch of half-siblings including 40-year-old Drena, 35-year-old Raphael and 16-year-olds Julian and Aaron.

Now, when my ass is 68, I want to be drunk on my porch and throwing rotten lemons at the shit-nosed brats driving their stupid ugly bikes on my lawn. I want to be a mean old cunt who's not afraid to show it. I don't want to be pulling my damn hip muscle while rocking my wailing baby to sleep at 3 in the morning. That shit ain't the life. But if that's how Robert wants to spend the Werther's Originals phase of his life, who am I to judge (I'm totally judging)?

But the best part is what Robert and Grace named their baby friend. Their rep tells People that her name is Helen Grace De Niro. Not only does Helen Grace De Niro sound like the name of a Catholic school head mistress who secretly moonlights as a lounge singer, but Helen Grace is also the name of the chocolate company that makes the most delicious fudge Easter eggs your stomach has ever digested.

These chocolate Easter eggs were serious business in my elementary school. Every year, we fought to death to sell as many as possible. It was like the middle-class suburban version of The Hunger Games. We killed each other for that shit, because the prizes were legendary. One year, I came in 5th place thanks to my mother forcing everyone at work to buy at least 3 and the prize was nothing like I have ever known before. The five of us (yes, I was last place, of course) all got into a limo and it took us on a journey of culinary pleasures. We stopped at Carl's Jr. for appetizers (fries), then pulled into the gourmet garden of desires that is McDonald's for entrees (Big Mac) and cleansed our palate at the Michelin-starred Baskin-Robbins. It will go down as the most luxurious experience of my life. For such a glamorous occasion, I wore my finest outfit which was a white turtleneck, a black chunky cardigan from Mervyn's and pleated black pants. I was dressed like an Eastern European lesbian tennis star going to a hearing to face charges of steroid abuse.

I even got to take a picture in front of the hot limo while wearing the hottest outfit I've ever owned. If my ass ever goes missing and the police ask you for a picture, please give them the one of my 10-year-old self awkwardly standing in front of that limousine. I look nothing like that anymore, but I only want people to see me in my most glamorous moment.

And I'm sure Robert's Helen Grace is as precious the Helen Grace Easter eggs I sold in order to live like Alexis Carrington for an afternoon.

Proving that you're never too old (or disabled) to beat a geezer down, two retired football players got into a cane-wielding, flower-slapping old bitch battle at the Canadian Football League alumni luncheon in Vancouver on Friday. This is what the Werther's Original aisle at Rite-Aid looked like on Black Friday. YAASSS! The real-life Grumpy Old Men shit started when 73-year-old Joe Kapp, former quarterback for the B.C. Lions, tried to give his forever arch rival, 74-year-old Angelo Mosca, former defensive tackle for the Hamilton Tiger Cats, a flower. Angelo then said the words his nurse said earlier in the day to him as she handed him a suppository: "STICK IT UP YOUR ASS!" Boom. The bell went off and the Beneficial-sponsored Pepawweight Championship of the Retirement Home was on.

Joe pushed the flower against Angelo's nose and the two went at it as the audience laughed, because priceless comedy IS two old cunts fighting over stupid shit. The only thing missing from this mess is Betty White in a bikini holding up a Round Two card as Angelo and Joe sip Ensure out of sippy cups in their corners. A winner wasn't declared, but when two old ass hos start swinging their canes at each other, we all win!

via Gawker (Thanks to Rose & Tom for sending this Metamucil mess in)

Omar Sharif is an Oscar-nominated actor, the star of Lawrence of Arabia and today he's known as a crusty old cunt who will bitch slap a trick if she gets out of line. Literally.

TMZ brings us this clip of 79-year-old Omar posing for pictures with his fans at a film festival in Qatar today when one lady scoots up and stands there. Just like your abuelita when you tried to get a piece of cake at a birthday party without asking, Pepaw Omar growled at the lady and then made her hair fly by slapping at her. That shit was like a chancelta slap without the chancelta. Since no slap down is complete without a serious talking to, Omar lectured the grown woman on the rules of waiting for a picture with a famous corroded asshole. The Washington Post translated that shit like this:

“My dear! I told you I’d get to you afterwards! I just said that and you’re standing here. Put something in your brain! ...........I’m sorry.”

More like put something in your checking account, bitch! Seriously, what gets me is that homegirl is standing there, awkwardly smiling. Is she in shock? Is she not sure what just happened? Does she not know how to react? You always have to be prepared for foolery like this.

When life slaps you with Omar Sharif's hand, you make slapanade out of that shit. You clutch your neck, you scream out in pain, you oh-so dramatically wither to the ground and you shout at your loved ones to call Gloria Allred first, the media second and an ambulance third. Then you scream out your checking account and routing number to Omar Sharif so he knows where to send his Funny Girl royalties from now on. You make it A SCENE and call it A CRIME until it starts to rain money on you. As my spirit animal Khia says, "#GETMONEYBITCH!"

These are the facts: Harry Belafonte is 84 years old and was forced to pull his sleeping bones off of his Tempur-Pedic to move his tired lips while talking about some HBO documentary to local news stations across the country yesterday morning.

This is also a fact: Reading that sentence probably lulled you into a deep keyboard nap like you just orgasmed while swallowing a cup of MSG. WAKE UP!

Okay, so because of the second fact, you can completely understand why Shari Belafonte's father slipped into a nap while waiting to talk to Eyewitness News in Bakersfield, CA. Besides, oldies are master nappers. They're almost better than cats at napping.

They wake up in the morning, sit up, slip their house shoes on and take a quick nap while sitting up. They wake up again, grab a glass of water on the bedside table and take a quick nap with their hand still on the glass. They wake up for a third time, take a sip of water and take a quick nap with the water still in their mouth. They wake up for a fourth time, swallow the water and take a quick nap again. By the time you've washed your pits, slipped on your tuxedo onesie for work and ate an entire carafe of coffee, your pepaw hasn't even gulped one sip of water.

You know what else oldies are good at? Lying about taking naps! Harry's rep is trying to say that he wasn't going mimi times, he was meditating. Ommmmmmmmmmmyoulying!

"After weeks of literally hundreds of interviews promoting his HBO documentary [Sing Your Song], memoir and CD, Mr. Belafonte had an early morning satellite TV tour this past Friday. His earpiece wasn't working, so he decided to take the time to mediate before the rest of his Day-O.

Mr. Belafonte is 84 years young, but sharper and more awake than most who have been interviewing him. Maybe the world would be a better place if more people took a moment to meditate."

Don't nap in our eyes and call it meditating! This is like my abuelita saying that she wasn't sleeping, she was quietly praying to her lord and savior to save my brat soul. Yeah, and I'm sure that wasn't snoring. The power of prayer blew the holy ghost right out of her nostrils. I know I'm gonna get it for that one....

If any of us had a stumpy mast of seasoned Italian gristle with a slug hugger full of soft bulging love communicating to us in body language to ravage him whole, we would not turn our backs to him the way Michelle Rodriguez did in Sardinia yesterday. But that's exactly what MRod did while climbing rocks and shit with Italian businessman Gianluca Vacchi. I mean, Gianluca is throwing his arms up and begging for a stick up, but MRod is denying him! Or maybe she left her dildo gun on the boat. Whatever the case may be, I hope that after those dykes on a bike rode into the sunset, their love story ended with Gianluca checking into the emergency room at 4am because he accidentally fell culo first onto a broken off strap-on. Il finito!

Above is the official wedding announcement of Hugh Hefner and Crystal Harris that will hit newsstands on Friday even though she hit the kill switch on their wedding. The staff at the Playboy Mansion will have to keep several freshly waxed 18-year-olds near Hugh's bedside so he can dry his sad tears on their labias while staring at his pant-less ex-bride on the cover of his magazine. The cover needed to come out, though.

You now know why Crystal's dog Charlie refuses to look down. The last time he looked down, he witnessed Hef trying to fish his lost dentures out of Crystal's chocha with his gums. It was like watching a grouper eat a ham sammy and Charlie has never looked down again. Down does not exist to Charlie. You don't have to tell Charlie to look at the birdie twice. Charlie is always looking at the birdie. So now we know why.

In other failed digger news, Crystal told Ryan Gaycrest on his KIIS-FM show this morning that contrary to Hef's Twitter tears, he didn't really want to get married again. Hef was only marrying Crystal because he thought that's what she wanted and he's relieved he won't be a husband again. Crystal says she realized the Playboy lifestyle is not for her and she wants to focus on her music career. Coincidentally (served inside of a sarcasm empanada), Crystal's new single came out the same day as the news of her break-up with Hef.

Crystal is definitely a failed gold digger but I can't accuse her of being a failed stunt queen. What all of us saw as true love was nothing but a publicity stunt to her. Bitch gave herself away by saying that she can't hang with the Playboy lifestyle. When you meet your known whore husband during a barely legal orgy, you know what you're getting yourself into.

And I don't believe that Hef won't get married again. I'm sure he's already visited a local nursery to put a few future brides on hold just in case he makes it to 103.

Maybe the thought of spending the next few years massaging Desitin into Hugh Hefner's taint and softening hard clit for him so it doesn't bruise his gums became too much for Crystal Harris to bear, because she has called off their wedding and has left the Playboy Mansion. Hugh tried to chase after her, but by the time he put on a cardigan under his silk robe, made himself a snack for the trip and told Mary to pull his Hoveround to the front, Crystal was already past the driveway.

TMZ reports that 85-year-old Hugh Hefner was supposed to make 24-year-old Crystal Harris his third wife on Saturday afternoon, but she shot down those plans after the two got into some sort of argument over the phone. Crystal has moved all of her stuff out and has left us all wondering if true love really exists on this planet we call earth?

Did it really take Crystal this long to get to the fine print in the prenup that states if the marriage ends she'll only leave with a handful of confederate coins, vagina nightmares and a geriatric care certificate? This is exactly why Crystal will never be inducted into the Gold Digger Hall of Fame. Sure, the prenup might say she gets a load of cold shit if they get divorced, but that's where hoarding valuables and leaked sex tapes come in. What a fucking embarrassment to gold diggers everywhere! Holly Madison would never! Speaking of Holly...

She's probably going to legally change her name to Crystal Harris right before she tells Hef the wedding is still on. Holly's hoping that Hef won't notice, which he won't. Now that's how a real gold digger does it!

As some of you may have already dry heaved to, Donald Trump is going around saying that he's considering running for President of the United States in 2012 (Can I campaign for Melania Trump as the next first lady while campaigning against Trump 2012?). Trump was on Today this morning to talk about the possibility of throwing the whore pit viper nest on his head into the ring and how he believes that Obama is nothing but Lilly Dillon in a suit because he has conned us all (insert a picture of Detective La Toya lifting up her monocle). Yup, Trump is a member of the BM.

Whatever thoughts I thought I had about Trump 2012 were torched away and replaced with Bill Cosby's "tuck that bitch in" face when he was also interviewed on Today this morning.

The pepaw treasure who taught me how to love snack pudding was on the show to discuss education stuff and Meredith Vieira just had to bring up Trump's name. Bill Cosby made the same face I made the first time I laid eyes on Olivia's nibbled on brows. If Bill's eyes could spit, they would've. Bill said that Meredith needs to take Trump home and that the only thing he's running is his mouth! This is the kind of grouchy old coot shit I live for! Hear ye, hear ye!

Right? If Bill Cosby wasn't secretary of the United States of Sexual Assault, I'd ask you to rent out office space for the "Hussies 4 Cosby/Warwick 2012" campaign headquarters.

Mary Ann Mobley, come get your husband already! Gary Collins was the host of my favorite late 1980s TV experience The Home Show, so it pains in the heart to read about how he still hasn't gotten his shit together. In the past 8 years, Gary has been busted 3 times for DUI and now he's adding a fourth mug shot to his collection. But this time, Gary wasn't arrested for letting Jack Daniels be his co-pilot. TMZ says that Gary was put into handcuffs after he walked out on a $59.35 restaurant bill without laying down his Diner's Club. Gary did this shit in Mississippi, where it's a felony to not pay a $25 or more bill.

Gary had himself a meal of steak and cocktails at Jazzeppi's in Biloxi last night. When the bill showed up, Gary simply sashayed out of the restaurant and ignored the screams from the staff to pay his shit. They called the cops, Gary was arrested and now he's sitting in a cell on $5,000 bail.

Gary used to be THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR IN THE HISTORY OF TELEVISION (served on a plate made from exaggeration) and now he's in jail for spitting on a $60 restaurant bill? How the mighty have...etc..etc... If Gary didn't have the cash, he should've called up his wife! Mary Ann could've pawned off one of her wigs or something.

Welcome to rock bottom, Gary. Hopefully, Mary Ann Mobley does the right thing and makes a rescue ladder out of her wigs and old rhinestone gowns so she can get her husband out of there.

Today, true love sounds like a hip bone cracking when 84-year-old Hugh Hefner got on one knee with the help of two nurses, an orderly and an EMT to propose marriage to his 24-year-old girlfriend Crystal Harris on Christmas Eve. Hugh (aka an assistant who transcribed the message at his bedside while his new soon-to-be fetus bride dabbed a little congratulatory Desitin on his nalgas) announced on his Twitter last night that he's engaged to Crystal. This means Crystal will be his third wife. Yup, who ever said gold digging was an easy job never had to wade chin-deep in pepaw slobber and Viagra to get 0.0000085% of the Playboy empire thanks to a little thing called a prenup. Pampers is totally going to provide the wedding attire from the bride AND groom.

This is what Hugh announced last night:

Yes, the ring I gave Crystal is an engagement ring. I didn't mean to make a mystery out of it. A very merry Christmas to all.

Yes, this is some pedophilia meets necrophilia shit, but whatever makes them happy. If a girl who was entering the world at about the same time he was entering the "Pepaws Don't Give A Fuck" stage of his life makes Hugh happier than the sound of a Werther's Original bag opening, then good for him. And Crystal's gold digging game is so serious that she probably won't break character when Hugh accidentally burps up creamed banana barf into her mouth during a kiss. You just have to slow clap for that kind of determination!

And somewhere outside of the Playboy Mansion, Holly Madison is scaling the wall with a machete in her mouth and VENGEANCE in her eyes.

via People