That Reg Traviss seriously must have a dick that can make a bitch drop the bottle and not even care, because here he is with Amy Wino last night and for once she doesn't look like she's about to bite a drunk to suck the sweet nectar out of his veins. The booze zombie has been tamed for now. And Wino is fresh out of rehab, so you'd think she'd be thirstier than a parched weave.
Maybe she's secretly licking the gel off of Reg's hair when he's not looking? Or maybe she's got a wine rack bra installed into her chest and she squeezes her nip for a splash of Merlot. More than likely.
Here's Wino looking like a gutter python trying to swallow two hogs while strolling around London with her man last night. You know, I'm surprised Reg isn't drunk most of the time since whenever he licks on Wino's titty nob he sees "BLAAAAAKE's" name staring back at him.
Oh, you can always count on Pamela Anderson to sprinkle a little of her natural grace and beauty on your day. Pamela was gracious enough to attend some store opening in West Hollywood last night even though it looks like she just had an orgy in a giant cement mixer set to high. If you asked her how many fingers you were holding up, she probably would've shrugged and then fucked 'em. This is some "broke off, dozed off" shit dipped in bronzer bought at The Dollar Tree and dried under a heat lamp. Let's hope we're all stumbling around like this mess later tonight.
Just because Amy Wino now has a boyfriend who wears clean chonies and probably dabs the corners of his mouth with a fresh white hanky after he drunks voms into a toilet, doesn't mean she needs to hang up her crackhive and retire her messy drunken ways. And thank the bottle of well whiskey for that, because then we wouldn't have these glorious pictures of Amy Wino striking all kinds of "skanky sorority girl with a fake ID" poses last night.
Wino performed a small set at the Jazz After Dark bar and celebrated the fact that she didn't spit into the eye of an audience member or pass out into the drum set by infecting some of her fans and throwing fuckfaces at the paps. If Hugh Hefner is ever looking for a centerfold for Playboy's Beauties of the Crackhouse issue, he just needs to put a shot of something strong on his doorstep and Wino will come a running!
Here's Wino looking like she just crawled out of a dumpster where she was passed out face first in a pile of old extra chunky chili. Wait, maybe that wasn't chili.
In 20 years when this boy is standing at the altar getting ready to marry a half melted dildo with hair like a scarecrow's nut bush, lips like the swollen anus of a power bottom gorilla and breasts that look like two basketballs made out of salmon jerky, he'll think fondly of the moment he gazed upon the Empress of Lucite and vowed to make a beauty like her his wife one day.
And also in 20 years, I'll be pouring Ensure and blended Mother's Circus Animal Cookies into my feeding tube while a nurse reads me the previous sentence from a book titled: THE WORST SENTENCES EVER WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY OF EVERYTHING. Memories.
Here's Shauna Sand and one of her lucite courtesans, fellow porn star Taylor Wayne, charming a young boy in South Beach yesterday afternoon. This is just like that scene in 8 1/2 where the young Italian boy learns about love from the local beach whore. But instead of local beach whores, the young boy above is learning about love and beauty from the modern day versions of Venus and Aphrodite.
Warning: There's a few bare nipples in the pictures below, so don't be surprised if you suddenly get a craving for grilled pepperonis and goat milk.
Cynthia Nixon tells The Advocate what makes her labia clap about Rojo Caliente (government name: Christine Marinoni) and who really carries the Home Depot charge card in the family:
“She’s basically a short man with boobs. A lot of what I love about her is her butchness. I’m not saying I fell in love with her in a sexually neutral way. I love her sexuality—it’s a big part of what I love about her—but I feel like it was her. It wasn’t something in me that was waiting to come out. It was like, this person is undeniable. How can I let this person walk by? Christine would probably kill me for saying this, but my daughter said one time that if you really had to break this down, [it looks like] she would be butch and I would be femme…but really once you get to know us it’s really the opposite.”
A short femme man with boobs?! Cynthia just took me there! Throw my ass on a block of ice, because that description just made my no-no play the final scenes in Firestarter.
Okay, I won't even finish that thought, because then you'll take a 3-hour tour on the S.S. Minnow and purposely crash onto my island... Anyway, here's the true Miss Castaway (sorry, Gladys the gorilla) barbecuing her cutlets on the beach yesterday.
The truth is, Phoebe Price doesn't need the sun to keep her warm and making her skin tingle. That's what the paparazzi's flash is for. They heard PP's siren call (which sounds like this) and came running. And since PP is an international supermodel in every sense she came prepared to pose with all sorts of inanimate objects she found in a dumpster behind The Dollar Tree. Keeping fucking that camera, PP!
Last night was the Costume Institute Gala where anybody with at least 5 IMDB credits to their name sprays their pussy with perfume, throws rhinestones on their b-holes and shows up at the Met to get stared down by the likes of Anna Wintour and Andre Leon Talley. It's kind of like the prom, but instead of awkwardly jacking each other off in a stall in the boy's bathroom, they stroke each other's erect egos out in the open. But who gives a dingle about that when we've got a pair of magnificent chichis in our midst!
When Christina Hendricks hit the carpet last night, the organizers of the Met Ball announced they were dropping the "Ball" from their name, because they knew they were not worthy. Even though it looks like there's a Muppets' taint bush hanging out on her shoulder, I'm still all about this (it's the chichis).
It's like some furry forest creatureling is sniffing at her honey dew melon patch. Wait. Or maybe that's one of Rip Taylor's old wigs? Or maybe it's Aretha Franklin's merkin spying on the competition?
Christina Hendricks' Mad Men co-star January Jones also showed up last night. Although, I think she got lost on the way to the Blade Runner garden party. It looks like Smoke Monster scooted his ass over her eyes.
It wouldn't be the Kentucky Derby without a tall crystal glass of sweet tea with just a hint of mint to give your tongue the tingles. Johnny Weir quenched the thirst of dry mouthed bitches when he hit the red carpet at the Kentucky Derby yesterday dressed like a fancy Bravo reality star (I'm looking at you, Dwight) going to a drag queen's funeral.
This is the first time in the history of the Kentucky Derby that the race ended early and a winner was not declared. That's because as soon all the horses spotted Johnny in the audience, they sprouted wings, pushed a crystal horn out of their heads and flew off towards the land of rainbows and glitter. Johnny freed them!
And the people who got to witness Johnny's glittery magic at work were: two assholian clowns, Larry Birkhead with Dannielynn, Fran Drescher, Joey Fat One, Jeff Lewis with Jenni, Vanessa Manilafolders with Nick Lachey, LOCKE!, Ugh Mario Lopez, Marisa Miller, Rebecca Romijn with Jerry O'Connell, Fred Willard and the woman with the best hat at the Derby.
Pour the coffee down the drain, put the meth pipe back in your desk drawer and tell your co-worker that they don't need to inject your veins with Red Bull this morning. Who needs any of those things to take them up up and away when you can sip on this sparkling drink of elegance. Yes, you might get HPV warts on your gums and throat, but that's a small price to pay!
Here's the Empress of Lucite looking like a single strand of lavender sprouting out of an angel's asshole. Doesn't she just take your breath away? Again, it could be the genital warts in you throat blocking your windpipe, but she's still the most beautiful woman IN DA WORLD! You know this.
And somewhere in Buckingham Palace, Queen Elizabeth II is sending her styling team into a frenzy, because now they have to find a new outfit for her to wear to church on Sunday.
Coco, the demure flower who blooms once a day on Twitter, visited Ice-T on the set of Law & Order yesterday, and she brought along her adorable puppy friend who we'll call Cammy T (note: not short for Chamomile Tea).
Cammy T has a bright shade of nervous on his face and I'm assuming it's because he too thinks Coco's ass looks like a baby rattlesnack after swallowing two litters of puppies. Somebody should tell Cammy he has nothing to worry about. And those barks and whines coming from Coco's ass is just gas.