Ashton Kutcher

Well, that didn't take long. Celebslam reports that your favorite man whore and mine (okay not even in our top 10 really) Ashton Kutcher was in Rome over Christmas with his new squeeze Lorene Scafaria. She's a 33-year-old screenwriter who some say he started seeing back in February when he auditioned for one of her films. But that math doesn't make sense, since he was still very married to his mom Demi Moore then!! And still is, right? Oh what the fuck am I saying, you know it's totally true. She was reportedly in a relationship when they met too. Birds of a SUCIO! feather nesting, how sweet.

According to Celebslam:

"During their private sojourn, the couple tooled around in a Porsche Carrera Sports 2011 and holed up at a private pad. During a romantic lunch at Pizzeria Trattoria Toscana in Pisa on Christmas Eve, they 'held hands,' witness Alex Thorpe tells Us. 'They shared spaghetti, and he paid.'"

Well isn't that EXCITING. Holding hands and eating spaghetti! I wonder if they slurped a noodle until they accidentally smooched and he rolled a meatball to her with his nose like in Lady and the Tramp. Between that greasy mess of hair on his head and his vagabond peen he's got the tramp part DOWN. Move the fuck over Paris, between this and Michael K's presence Rome is the new city of love.

Patients in Los Angeles-area hospitals suffering from severe constipation and extreme vomit phobias were transported to the premiere of New Year's Eve Apocalypse Eve at Grauman's Chinese Theatre last night for five reasons: Lea Michele, Ashton Kutcher, Katherine Heigl, Fuggie Fug and Josh Duhamel (or as their known in the medical community: suppository, douche, enema, diuretic and activated charcoal). Even the quadra power beauty queen beauty of Michelle Pfeiffer, Zac Efron, Sofia Vergara and Barbara Eden wasn't powerful enough to soothe the heaves coming out of a bitch when they watched Ick (aka Lea) and Nast (aka Ashton) mug it up for the cameras. Ashton, I know it's been a while since you've seen tits that aren't made of Plaster of Paris, but please calm yourself. I swear, this premiere had more empty stomachs and clean pussies than a virgin bulimia convention. Sucio all around.

Katherine needs to give 2001 Hillary Clinton her hair back, Ashton needs to give Mary Katherine Gallagher her hair back and both Fuggie and Lea just need to stop everything. There aren't enough chairs for all the bitches here who really need to have a seat in the back.

I was going to make a post asking who was the least annoying slag at last night's New Year's Eve premiere, but that's like choosing between a beej from a garbage disposal or a prostate exam from a pitchfork. Which funnily enough, is probably the sensation a ho feels when sitting through that shit bag of a movie.

Who doesn't, right? Well, I don't really. I have the attention span of a toddler gnat with ADD, so it's hard for me to focus. Just knees flying everywhere, and perfectly synchronizing cum shots is an Olympic sport that I have never qualified for. That shit is like playing Twister while getting ass fucked. But Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore disagree with my ass (and other parts), because apparently they liked their fuck times with an extra cooch. A source type tells Radar that Ashton and Demi always kept their marriage wide open and would regularly pick up lady pieces for some apple bobbing. Every open marriage blind item just burped out an "urr durr" as the source said this:

“They would have threesomes. Demi liked women and Ashton would bring another woman into their relationship for flings, but they both agreed to it.

Demi is attracted to women just as much as men, so she didn’t always get all she needed from Ashton. That’s why she didn’t mind having women in the relationship as long as she was involved.

If he wanted to do anything as long as she knew about it she was fine. It was the sneaky ones when he got caught that infuriated Demi."

The fuck does "didn't get all she needed from Ashton" mean? I guess that means he couldn't provide the thrust that takes her clitty up, up and away. That makes sense when I put it that way. I mean, a little ass boy douche like Ashton cannot tame the heated hot pussy of a wild loose creature that moves like a brain-damaged kangaroo trying to give birth while boxing a swarm of bees:

If AssStain and Demi's marriage gave us anything, it's this priceless video that never gets old for me.

My fingers are practically numb with shock so I'll let Demi Moore knock the breath out of your being by giving you the news that has caused the CDC to issue a high alert now that Ashton Kutcher (the one wearing a huge black fur tampon cap in the picture above) is finally free to bareback as many hos as he wants out in the open.

"It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I have decided to end my six-year marriage to Ashton. As a woman, a mother and a wife there are certain values and vows that I hold sacred, and it is in this spirit that I have chosen to move forward with my life.

This is a trying time for me and my family, and so I would ask for the same compassion and privacy that you would give to anyone going through a similar situation."

Well, there comes a time in every mother's life when she has to let her child go out into the world by himself, so this makes sense.

But somehow this statement from Demi feels empty without a picture of her posing in her divorcin' bikini in front of her bathroom mirror. And I think what she really meant to say is: This is what my stupid ass gets for marrying the douchehole from Punk'd.

UPDATE: Ashton said this eye roll-inducing shit on Twitter: "Marriage is one of the most difficult things in the world and unfortunately sometimes they fail. Love and Light, AK" Every time an asshole signs off with "love and light," hate and darkness eats a kitten.

via People

AssStain Kutcher delivered yet another "Dude, Where's My Fucking Brain?" moment last night when he prematurely ejacutweeted his outrage over Penn State's head football coach Joe Paterno getting the BYE BITCH treatment for shutting his eyes, plugging his ears and singing "lalalaimnotseeingthislalalal" to his assistant coach butt raping a boy in the locker room.

Ashton saw the headline "Jo Pa Fired" somewhere and the cold pile of mashed DURR in his head didn't think to use his fingers to Google for the full story before raising his fist in disgust. This was a surprising move on Ashton's part since he's known for having a dozen degrees, PhDs and awards of excellence in decision making (see: growing that beard and not wearing a condom before fucking his one-night fuck piece). This is Ashton's first Tweet, which was quickly swallowed up by the fail whale.

How do you fire Jo Pa? #insult #noclass as a hawkeye fan I find it in poor taste

Three seconds after Ashton shat out this dingle of dumb, some of his 8 million followers beat some realness into him with a hashtag. Ashton quickly erased the Tweet and then apologized before announcing that he's taking a Tweetbatical

Heard Joe was fired, fully recant previous tweet! Didn't have full story. #admitwhenyoumakemistakes

As an advocate in the fight against child sexual exploitation, I could not be more remorseful for all involved in the Penn St. case.

As of immediately I will stop tweeting until I find a way to properly manage this feed. I feel awful about this error. Won't happen again.

"Find a way to properly manage this feed." Way to backtrack from a pile of shit by rolling into another pile of shit. This dumb fuck douchebag needs to find a way to properly manage his brain before he tackles his feed. One obstacle at a time, Ashton.

via People

Ashton Kutcher had 4 minutes to spare on Wednesday and he had two choices on how to spend that time: take a crash course on how to put on a condom before fucking his side whores; or let out a long-winded douche hole rambling monologue on chime.in about how the media needs gatekeepers and how the printer is out of paper. AssStain went with the second choice, the WRONG choice, and I don't even know what came out of his mouth.

Ashton's brain gargled all of his thoughts and then his mouthed queefed a giant load of meaningless crap. Ashton not only looks like a homeless conspiracy theorist who rattles on about sneaky clouds when you put a quarter in his cup, but he also talks like one too. This is the gist of what poured out of Ashton's colostomy bag mouth:

"I started thinking (Ed note: You should've stopped there) about that in relation to social media and media today. The threshold to have literature printed and distributed -- the cost structure went down to zero dollars. Thereby, there is no gatekeeper of the truth. We are our own editors, and our own publishers. We are our own printers. Therefore people can bastardize the truth in any way, shape or truth they want.

We really have to take it upon ourselves to instill a level of honesty in our works and the media we create and we share with each other. And be certain we are doing our own diligence to ensure what we're saying is for the benefit of another...using our full capacity to share the truth."

Let me fix that for you, Ashton. "We are our own editors, and our own publishers. We are our own printers. Therefore people can release a 4-minute-long fart of distraction to mask the scent of the cooch cream they raw dog fucked out of the trick they cheated on their wife with."

P.S. - I thought about Ashton's deep words, and if I was a printer, I'd totally be a broken Epson.

via HuffPo

If you're like me and you've got time and no more brain cells to kill, moan through the commercial and watch this mess of a video from UsWeekly of Ashton Kutcher's one-night lady love Sara Leal talking about the special night when the cherubs cooed, roses blew out the sweet scent of love and Demi Moore's husband stuck his unwrapped douche stick into her poon. Sara says the same crap she said in the print interview but this time she says it to the camera and the effect is something special. The soft lighting that makes her look like an innocent sweet demure angel, the rented house, the casual pose on a grassy knoll like she's starring in an ad campaign for Coldwater Creek.... It all works for me.

I mean, this bareback bitch is going on about how she would've never screwed on Ashton if she knew he was still Demi and they scatter in shots of her awkwardly smiling and giving us bland come hither looks under a tree while she keeps her legs closed FOR ONCE! If this whole "fucking married celebrity men for a tabloid check" thing doesn't work for her, she has an amazing career ahead of her in karaoke video modeling. She look so damn bored. I guess they told her to recreate the emotions she felt when Ashton raw dog dicked her.

This almost looks like an infomercial for a new product called Slutvitra. You know, it's for the douchebag celebrity husband who is too full of chicken shit to dump his wife himself. So he takes some Slutvitra and before you know it's there a 4-page scandalous expose in a tabloid magazine and the deed is done for him. He gets the free publicity and now everyone will really think he's the new Charlie Sheen (he's not).

On a mantel in Texas somewhere, is a framed cover of this week's UsWeekly and an entire family is standing in front of it while ejaculating warm pride from their faces as they think to themselves, "Our little girl, what a big shameless slut." (Sidenote: That's the same line my friends said to me when I asked them if it was normal for my suddenly itchy crotch shrub to play the song "Under the Sea.")

22-year-old blonde administrative assistant (it's ALWAYS the 22-year-old blonde administrative assistants) Sara Leal can now pay for that fully-equipped Kia Sorrento in cash, because she put her story of screwing Ashton Kutcher on the auction block and UsWeekly threw up the winning bid.

The Betrayal of DEMI!!!!! started when a mutual friend of Ashton and Sara's (aka a whore wrangler) invited her and some other tricks to a party at his hot tub suite at the Hard Rock Hotel in San Diego. When the clock struck SLUT, everybody except for man whore Ashton, his dude friend and two ladies including Sara stayed in the suite. Just like how all the special romances of our time (see: Romeo & Juliet) started, Sara says she got clit-out naked and Ashton made his move:

"He just came up and kissed me," the Texas native tells Us of Kutcher's first bold move in the wee hours; minutes later, Leal, Kutcher and another young woman were completely nude and in a hot tub on the balcony.

"I didn't think it was out of the ordinary," Leal admits. "I wasn't self-conscious about getting naked."

When Kutcher claimed that he was "separated" from wife Moore, 48, Leal tells Us she believed him.

DUH, bitch. Of course, it wasn't out of the ordinary. You were there to get your cooch Kutched! It would be out of the ordinary if he sat down with a pen to do The New York Times crossword puzzle, but mostly because he can't operate anything that doesn't have a touch screen. Sara then said that he continued to celebrate his 6th wedding anniversary by leading her to the bedroom to make the sex:

After retreating to Kutcher's bedroom past 6 a.m., "he lost his towel and I took my robe off," Leal says. "Then we had sex."

"He was good," Leal reveals. "It wasn't weird or perverted." It also wasn't 100 percent safe, either: Leal tells Us that Kutcher did not wear a condom during their one-on-one encounter.

What does Sara consider as weird? Because a dude screaming out "I'M ABOUT TO PROMOTE YOUR TWAT. HASHTAG I'M CUMMING!!!" is pretty kinky to me and you know Ashton screamed that out right before he gave her a raw nut.

Sara then says that they wrapped up their time together by talking about politics:

The post-coital talk was a little unexpected, she confesses; the duo talked astrology (they're both Aquarius), religion, love, even politics. "I told him I was a Lutheran from Texas. He said, 'Oh my gosh! Are you a Republican?'" Leal says.

Democratic-leaning Kutcher quizzed her on "up-and-coming candidates. I said Rick Perry. He asked if I'd vote for him. I said I didn't know and he laughed. He laughed at pretty much everything I said."

But it wasn't all twenty questions between the lovers, according to Leal. After having sex for a second time -- and arguing over Leal's cell phone -- the married Two and a Half Men star was tender.

"He was like, 'I enjoy things like this because I'm an actor 90 percent of the time and it's fake. It's nice to have moments that are real,'" Leal recalls.

Oh the laugh at everything laugh. We all know that laugh at everything laugh. It's the "I'm just going to laugh at everything so you can take the hint, wash your vagina out in the sink and leave so I can eat dry roasted peanuts and cuddle with this pillow right here" laugh.

And that last "this is a real moment" line pretty much tells me that Ashton has a full-time writer on staff who writes all of his post-fuck lines, because that is some Notting Hill shit.

I believe that a ho has to get paid, so I'm happy that somebody bought Sara's story, but she left out the only important detail I care about. Where is the shaft-to-hole description of Ashton's dick situation?! Sara talks about that big penis Rick Perry, but doesn't talk about the only penis we care to know about? Does Ashton have the ingredients to Summer's Eve tattooed on his shaft like the legend says? This is the only shit we need to know.

But I'm going to assume that Sara was just too remorseful to get into that. I mean, look at her face in that picture. That's the same pout your puppy makes when it bareback fucks your husband in a San Diego hotel room.

Any normal celebrity couple would answer to the rumors that their marriage has been drowned in a pool of crotch nectar from the husband's side piece by issuing a simple statement that reads: "True" or "Not true" or "Your business: mind it." But Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore aren't even in the same universe as normal and have answered to the rumors by dropping philosophical balls of shit and clues on their Twitter pages. Dumi's stupid ass wrote the first chapter of The Da Douche Code when she quoted Greek philosopher Epictetus days before Star Magazine said her marriage was lying on a table in the morgue.

"When we are offended at any man’s fault, turn to yourself & study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger."

The second chapter was written by Ashton when he Tweeted a link to his Spotify account where Public Enemy's "Don't Believe The Hype" plays. A few days before Ashton's Tweet, Demi Tweeted the picture above of her doing an impression of the current catatonic state of her marriage and she added the note: "I see through you."

This is what happens when your brain gets fed with too much Oprah. It makes a bitch think she's a regular philosophical performance artist. Rumer Willis, go poke at your mama with your chin and tell her she's won. We won't complain about her desperate bathroom bikini photo shoots as long as she promises to queef the wannabe Maya Angelou act from her being.

Lainey Gossip says that tomorrow's cover of Star Magazine will make absolutely no one clutch at their anal beads in SHOCK by featuring this headline: "World Exclusive It’s Over! Demi & Ashton’s $290 million divorce!" Actually, let me take a Magic Eraser to my last comment and correct myself. Everybody will be clutching at their anal beads, because we're actually living on a planet where an empty douche bottle in a Jesus mask and a Kyle Richards impersonator are worth $290 million together.

Lainey says that Star is practically echoing their story from this time last year and saying that Ashton Kutcher's wandering peen hasn't stopped slipping into side pieces and Demi Moore can no longer mask the pain by unmasking her non-biodegradable body parts in a bathroom bikini photo shoot for her Twitter followers. There's not many details from Star's story other than that mess, but The Dirty (via Gather) got an e-mail from someone who claims that their friend helped Asshole Kutcher in his never-ending pursuit to beat Tiger Woods' man whore record.

Nik, I’m going to be straight to the point. I’m a female who works at who happens to be friends with Sara Leal, probably not after this. I’m sick to my stomach over what happen last Friday night. Like most people on earth I worshiped Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore until Ashton Kutcher f*cked my friend Sara Leal at 4:30AM technically Saturday morning in his room on the 12 floor at the Hardrock Hotel in San Diego. Ashton Kutcher told Sara Leal that him and Demi Moore are separated and the public doesn’t know yet. Smooth line Ashton, she was going to f*ck you anyway.

"Don't speak for us." - Most people on earth to Sara Leal's friend

Demi and Ashton haven't been photographed next to each other in a little while and that's a red flag right there. Demi might not be able to force herself to rub her shellacked body of desperation on Ashton's man slut stick, but she's always been able to put on a brave face for the sake of the paparazzi's cameras!

My thoughts and prayers are with Demi and Ashton's Twitter followers at this time. It will be hard at first to only follow Ashton every other weekend (not including holidays), but they'll eventually get through this difficult time.

Here's Demi looking a little Rimes-ish with Jennifer Aniston, Alicia Keys and Swizz Beak at last night's NYC premiere of Lifetime's Five.