Chichis

When we last heard of the Brazilian blossom Sheyla Hershey, she was lying on her death bed after she tried to kill herself because she was forced to downsize her 38M titties and she didn't want to live in a world where she didn't have two globes of pure silicone suffocating her lungs (aka asTITSiation). It was a true titty tragedy (aka a tragititty). Well, those same plastic chest planets that almost put her in the grave, kept her out of the grave this past weekend. This is the information the Surgeon General needs to order that a "FAKE TITS SAVES LIVES!" label must go on every bag of chichi gel.

Sheyla tells The Mirror that after she got boozed up at a Super Bowl in Houston, TX, she sort of kind of smashed into a tree while driving home. Sheyla wasn't wearing a seat belt, so the sheer force of hitting a tree should've sent her flying through the windshield to her death. But thankfully, Sheyla has a pair of 38KKK built-in airbags that saved her life. Sheyla denies that she was drunk, but she was still arrested and will have to answer to the DUI charge in court next month.

It makes my nipple slits smile knowing that Sheyla has fully recovered from her suicide attempt and has realized that the world needs beauties like her to keep spinning and she will continue to stretch out baby blue cotton jumpsuits (Really, the fuck is she wearing?) with her enormous tits. But then it makes my nipples slits frown knowing that the Houston Police Department put this beauty behind bars for even a quick minute. That is an injustice! Sheyla is a precious gift and if she left this world, the silicone industry would go bankrupt and fake tits would become extinct. It would be a sad world. And Sheyla's hippo ass tits stopped this from happening. So she should be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize, not arrested! We need a petition for this shit.

And I also need to see Sheyla reenact this crash on The Insider. But only because I need to know how she's able to drive with those quadruple stuffed chest balls in the way. Did she remove her driver seat and just drives from the backseat using two cat grabbers? Does she drive with her tits and uses her hands to reapply her exquisite eyebrows? I bet it's the latter. There's really NOTHING Sheyla's life-saving tits can't do.

Masochist vegans who are members of the We Hate Simon Cowell Facebook group have never been more turned on.

Simon Cowell's deflated man tits look like a plate of poorly pounded chicken paillard sloppily breaded in stale rye breadcrumbs, but he's not letting their sad and defeated attitude get to him while he lives the glamorous life on a yacht in St. Barts with his fiancee and ex-girlfriend. While you're in your cubicle eating around the rotten parts of a banana left in the back of your office refrigerator, rich ass Simon and his friends are playing with those bananas for fun! To rich bored bitches, bananas are toys! But on a sad note, I bet this is making Ryan Seacrest wipe a single tear on his OshKosh B'Gosh undershirt, because it wasn't too long ago when the only fruit Simon liked to play with was him. :(

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in Los Angeles, Paula Abdul is having a deep conversation on her banana phone while a pear transcribes the conversation on a slice of jicama.

It's been said that the gift the Three Wise Men brought to Jesus on his born day was a ginger with magnificent chichis carrying a bottle of scotch. (Yes, I know that the Bible, OR WHATEVER, technically says they brought him gold, frankincense and myrrh. But that's just old Bible talk for ginger, chichis and scotch. I went to catechism for like 2 years so I know.) So because of that, these Johnnie Walker ads starring Christina Hendricks ARE Christmas. The only note I have is that if they really wanted to make this shit really classy, they should've put a glass of scotch on each one of her titty balls and asked her to clink them together.

And if you stare long enough, it sorts of looks like a naked double amputee Santa Claus mistook her dress for a chimney and dove in head first. Extra Christmas points!

When Courtney Love decided to crash accept an invitation to the after-party for the family movie Hugo, she knew she wanted to bring bountiful amounts of demure sophistication to the eyes of the children. So Courtney threw her white dragon carcass into a red satin dress, picked up her pizza dough tits, threw them up into the air and let them fall where they may. Then Courtney sashayed through the streets of Manhattan toward the Hugo after-party and made the children scatter by being completely oblivious to the fact her left titty was flopping around like an out-of-water blob fish gasping for air. Bitch's chichi was obviously trying to escape. It wanted to jump out of that dress and slither down into the subway to be raised by rats so it can have some kind of life! But it lost its chance when Courtney ran into the legendary Radio Man and cuddled up next to him. Poor old Radio Man. Dude is pretty much always on the streets and he's never once caught a serious case of Scabies until he got close to Courtney. Well DAMN!

Before you say that Courtney's nipple plate would've never popped out if she wore her dress the right way, think about it. The streets of Manhattan are free of children, because Courtney's areola put the fright in all of them. They won't come out from under their beds until their parents promise to clear the house of stale pepperoni and chewed-up salami. We can thank Courtney's nightmare-inducing nipple for that.

And is it just me or does it look like the silicone sack in her left titty migrated to her right titty to be reunited with its silicone twin?

Wearing one of Mimi's favorite maternity dresses, Xtina busted onto the stage during Maroon 5's performance at the AMAs last night looking like an electrocuted poodle half-mummified in duct tape. Because Snookitina's bandage dress suffocated her body so tight that her lonjitas were popping out for dear mercy, some people are saying that if you looked in the wastebasket next to her toilet you'd find an e.p.t. with a blue plus sign on it. BUT NOPE! You might find an e.p.t., but it wouldn't be positive, it'd be drunk as three shades of hell from Xtina pissing out her 100 proof piss on it. That's not a human baby in Xtina's belly, that's a beer baby (the best kind of baby to be pregnant with, honestly).

Hating hos saying that Xtina's Miss Piggy look was marketing for the new Muppets movie are filled with jealousy. They wish they had a keg in their bellies like Xtina (and me after this weekend). PARTY IN MAH BELLY: Xtina can say it and you can't.

But what I'm most worried about is the fact that Xtina doesn't look like she just sucked off a melting candied apple. Where is the red lipstick?!!!! Unless.... Xtina's dress was so tight that it squeezed the red right off of her lips. That's all kinds of possible.

Last night on Twitter, Tori Spelling's beady-eyed husband Dean McHerpDerp served his 70,000+ followers a pair of chocolate and buckwheat pancakes when he accidentially posted a picture of his son with his wife's titty balls chilling out in the background. TITTYBOMB! Ever since my retinas tore into pieces from staring at pictures of Tori looking like a stick of wood with two boiled grapefruits stapled to it, I vowed to keep my eyes away from any pictures of her bare silicone bags, but I looked anyway. The only thing I have to say about breaking my vow is that I'll never nibble on a pupusa the same way again.

If you really need to see Tori's tits settling down after breastfeeding (which I'm guessing that's what they're doing), then click here or here. I'm not one to defend Tori, but those of you screaming "OMG MOMMA TITTAYS IN FRONT OF A CHILD!!!11!!!" need to stop. That child has stared at Tori's face every day of his life, so I'm sure a pair of naked breasts won't scar him.

via TMZ & ONTD

One would think that because there's sunshine and tropical rains in Hawaii nearly every day, Nick Lachey's world-class rack would be extra lush and bountiful, but that's not what's happening here. Nick and his wife Vanessa Manilawhatever trained in the sport of bikini bike riding for the 2012 Holympics in Hawaii yesterday afternoon, and his chichis almost look as flat as her personality. The sudden urge to motorboat while humming the melody to "Give Me Just One Night (Una Noche)" usually fills me when I stare at Nick's succulent pectorals, but not one musical note is filling my throat. Eat some macadamias, Nick! Get those tetes to reach for the sun again.

Oh, let's just assume that Nick's pec sacks are still on California time so they're just taking their usual early evening nap. Let's assume that.

Most of this morning's news is all about Rick Perry scraping his own shit from the bottom of his hot cowboy boot and some Penn State students flipping vans over their football coach getting fired for putting on his Pope Goggles, so I'm going to temporarily blow away those dark clouds of insane terror and bring out a bright shining sun in the form of a topless Joel McHale!

Joel is trying to make GROUNDBREAKING HISTORY by being the first white man to be named as People's Sexiest Man Alive and so he twerked his camouflage nipples (somebody please send him some black licorice nipple dye) for an audition video. People asked him to put together a video of him making an everyday activity look orgasm-worthy and this is what he came up with. Strangely enough, this is exactly what coffee hour at Ryan Gaycrest's office looks like. This is also what Corbin Fisher's class of 2011 15th reunion is going to look like.

The royal wedding of every century will take place this Wednesday when the most stunningly gorgeous creature to ever wear a crown, La Duquesa de Alba, makes 61-year-old commoner civil servant Alfonso Díez her third husband and the luckiest mere mortal in the world. The Spanish magazine Interviú is celebrating this historical event by gifting the world with glorious pictures of the Klingon dandelion filling the sun with more sunshine by shooting rays of aristocratic exquisiteness out of her nipple holes on a beach in Ibiza back in the 1980s when she was just 56 years old. This was long before the Duchess of Alba fell into a vat of liquid diamonds and Death Eater blood, transforming her into an albino Jocelyn Wildenstein with an afro made of Andy Rooney's shed eyebrows hairs.

Curtsy, gently bow your head and lift up your eyeballs as you let the Duchess of Alba knight you with her (NSFW) noble nipples. Desnuda y radiante!

via Vanitatis (Thanks Erica!)

Holly Madison, Hugh Hefner's former head Stepford nurse who was the only one who showed she truly cared about him by softly blowing on his raw colostomy hole before gently rubbing baby powder-scented Vaseline on it, has found a new career in giving Las Vegas audiences a dozen servings of her silicone chichi domes every night in Peepshow. Holly seems to think that she has the Mary Hart Legs of tits, because she has taken out a $1 million life insurance policy on her twin career makers.

Holly tells People that if anything happened to her silicone chest puffs, LIVES WOULD BE FORECLOSED UPON, THE BREAD LINE WOULD BE SHUT DOWN, CHILDREN WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEIR OWN FINGERS TO SURVIVE, BLONDE TODDLERS WOULD HAVE TO MOVE INTO THE PLAYBOY ORPHANAGE (oh, wait..), etc.... etc.... Holly explained it like this to People:

"I've heard about people getting body parts insured and I thought, why not?, because if anything happened to my boobs, I'd be out for a few months and I'd probably be out a million dollars. I thought I'd cover my assets. I think it's kind of funny. I think they're getting the credit they deserve. They're my primary money makers right now."

What does Holly think is going to happen to her tits? Are they going to move into the vacant space in her head when Carrot Top tries to motoroboat them? Since it's obvious they can't be near each other, is their civil war going to escalate to the point where one them completely quits the union and reinvents itself by getting a job as one of Hugh's colostomy bags (yes, I brought it back to colostomy bags and you should never forgive me for this).

If anything does happen to Holly's chichis, it will take 10 minutes for the Mattel factory workers to come out to her house and restore her natural beauty by bolting on a Barbie titty plate over her chest.

Besides, who thinks of Holly Madison when they think of tits?! Googling "national treasure breasts," brings up the names Helen Mirren, Salma Hayek and Christina Hendricks, but Holly Madison does not make an appearance. I don't think the serial number on her implant reads: PRICELESS PRECIOUS CARGO. Bitch, please. StuntQueenville, population: Holly Madison