Gross

Remember that clip of Zachary Quinto getting creamed on like Gay Al Reynolds at breakfast time? How could your loins forget? Well, Zachary's Heroes' co-star, Hayden Panatroll, has taken his place under the bukkake faucet for another video from artist Tyler Shields. Although, it looks like this is self-bukkake since most of the stuff is coming from Hayden's coochie geyser. The troll is a squirter. Now you know.

And if you plan on seeing New Moon this weekend, you will most likely witness dozens of Twitards re-reacting this video as soon as the opening credits roll. Make sure to wear a slicker.

via The Life Files

I haven't seen one episode of MTV's Styl'd so I have no idea how crazy in the brains this Tara chick is, but I feel like everything I need to know about her is in the clip above. TVGasm says that this clip of Tara terrorizing her boss' condo is totally authentic and it didn't make the final cut of the show, because the producers thought it was "too weird." This is the same network that aired an entire season of Tila Tequila's A Shot At Love and THIS is too weird?

I'm sure most of us have wanted to mouth jizz into our boss' orange juice and masturbate a toilet with their toothbrush, but there is a time and a place for that kind of fuckery. The time being whenever there isn't a camera around! Seriously, who the hell is going to hire Tara when they know very well that she just might put her stank on their shit?

Tara, report to the back of the unemployment line and stay there!

Now I know why my abuelita thinks public displays of affection are sucio and should be illegal. Hand me a petition, and I'll sign it in blood that came pouring out of my eye holes when I first saw these pictures of Brittany Murphy kissing on her screenwriter/conman husband Simon Monjack at LAX today.

Aw. I shouldn't dry heave all over their love. They look happy (?). I mean, Simon is kissing on Brittany like she's a Twinkie Casserole. And she's kissing him back like he's a Collagen needle, so that's all that matters.

However, that poor dog is about to stage her own death.

Michael Lohan might have been the only bitch who truly enjoyed I Know Who Killed Me. He might have enjoyed it a little tooooo much if this story about him is true. Warning: Sucioness ahead.

Elliot Osher, the former owner of Scores strip club in NYC, tells Rush & Molloy that Michael Lohan once ordered up a LiLo look-alike to dance for him . Elliot said, "Lindsay Lohan's father once sat down and described the kind of dancer he was looking for. We sent some girls over. Funny, they all seemed to look like Lindsay."

Michael immediately queefed on Elliot's accusations, "No girls danced for me. The last thing I'd want to see is a girl who looked like Lindsay. I don't even look at the magazines where she's done some risqué photos."

But Elliot stands by his claim, "Maybe he just doesn't remember. The next week, Lindsay wanted to meet the girls who'd danced for her dad."

If Michael waits a few months, he can probably get the real thing to dance for him at the Spearmint Rhino during the morning shift. Just looking at a picture of Michael Lohan makes me want to call a hotline for help, so this rumor doesn't really surprise me. This is why you can never trust a tampon in a mesh shirt!

Seriously, the Lohan fuckery must come to an end. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And by "someone," I mean our souls and appetites.

Here's LiLo looking like the picture of sobriety while showing up to a house party at 4:30 in the morning. Don't worry, she was there for sunrise bible study.

56-year-old Shirley Rae Dieu of Irvine, CA went to Dr. Phil for therapy (mistake number one), but says she left his office more fucked up than when she got there. Yesterday, Shirley filed a lawsuit in Los Angeles claiming that during her therapy session with Dr. Phil in 2007, he molested her left booby, forced her to stare at a live nekkid man and refused to let her leave his Hollywood office. Basically, it sounds like a nightmare directed by David Lynch.

In the documents, Shirley says Dr. Phil brainwashed her by making her watch "tapings depicting her as a different personality other than her own." And about that nekkid dude thing, Shirley says Dr. Phil "forced her to be in the same room with a completely live naked man while he exposed his entire naked body, genitals and all."

Dr. Phil kept her captive in his office, and when she tried to get out of there, his staff stopped her. They also refused to let her sleep or eat. Shirley tells People that another woman is going to join her lawsuit. Shirley is asking for cash money, but the specific amount is not known yet.

Shirley is no stranger to suing a bitch. In 2002, she sued a hospital for malpractice. Two years ago, she also sued a car dealership. According to People, Shirley is acting as her own attorney.

Look at that face. If that face was looking at you while his hand was on your booby, you'd never recover. You would develop instant-cataracts, foam at the mouth uncontrollably and probably live under your backyard deck. I wouldn't be able to talk, let alone file a lawsuit. However, this is Dr. Phil she's talking about, and he's the skeeziest skeeze who ever skeezed, so let's believe it.

And what the fuck with the live (as opposed to dead) nekkid man thing? If that's what Dr. Phil considers therapy, make me a damn appointment.

Since Jon Grosselin doesn't have a regular paying gig anymore, he's hitting the ho stroll harder than. Jon's first stop on the journey to relevancy was Millions of Famewhores in Los Angeles where he made a signature milkshake. The words "Jon Gosslin milkshake" should never ever be allowed to stand next to each other. Millions of Milkshakes should get an F from the health department just for having that shit on the menu.

I'm guessing a Grosselin shake consists of: Ed Hardy's European beer, foam from the mouth of Kate's rabid possum head, three dry hairs from Hailey Glassman's meth brows, Michael Lohan's enema water, Jon's undertitty jam, a dozen rotten walnuts, a cup of lukewarm lard, and the tears of ten TLC executives.

After just three months of marriage, Fred Durst and his wife Esther Nazarov have gone their separate ways. Fred went off to bang anything who doesn't mind him gnarling like a bear eating a rabbit's head (if you've seen his sex tape, you know what I'm talking about) and Esther went off to submit her application to the gayelle club.

Fred announced the tragic news on his Twatter:

"For those of you inquiring I will confirm that Esther and I have decided to go our separate ways and we both thank you for your support. Thank you all SO much for your concern and extremely kind words. Sincerely. We remain very positive and wish only the best for each other."

I will say that the marriage lasted a lot longer than my ass predicated. My guess is that the bad shit haze finally wore off and Esther realized she was married to a dude who used to suck on Parasite Hilton's septic tank.

And since we're here, (NSFW) click on this to see Fred's limp bizkit. I doubt it's usually like that. Dude must have just stuck it in the vacuum to stretch it out for the cameras.

VIA UsWeekly

The human (that's debatable) version of a Hot Topic bobble head, Marilyn Manson, will have to spend a few days resting in his coffin because he says he has the swine flu. Yeah, better late than never, I guess.

Marilyn said, "So I have officially been diagnosed, by a real doctor, with THE SWINE FLU. I know everyone will suggest that fucking a pig is how this disease was obtained. However, the doctor said, my past choices in women have in no way contributed to me acquiring this mysterious sickness. Unfortunately, I am going to survive.”

I would never suggest that Marilyn got it by boning a pig. However, I would suggest that he got it from doing massive amounts of oral with chocolate covered bacon, chicharrónes, Honey Baked ham and pig pie.

VIA Prefix Magazine

If we got a $1 for every time we heard about Jon Grosselin rubbing his fat man balloons all over some homely young thing, we'd have enough money to buy out Ed Hardy and burn it to the ground. The latest buthereverything to come forward is former Gosselin nanny Stephanie Santoro. 23-year-old Stephanie tells InTouch (via Popeater) about the night her dignity quit her ass and hitchhiked out of town.

Stephanie said that Jon came on to her first when he asked her to give him a massage. Jon probably got the idea when he saw Stephanie roll the dick out of a piece of dough. If you can knead a mound of butter and flour, you can handle Jon's body. Stephanie said that the massage led to them kissing, which led to them in the hot tub, which led to you dry heaving in a Styrofoam cup inside your cubicle.

When the two were in the hot tub, Stephanie kept looking at the windows to make sure a member of the child army wasn't witnessing two pigs go at it in a pot of boiling water. If they did, they would probably whine about how hongray they were for pork rinds and the nanny just couldn't be bothered with that.

When the kiddies went to sleep, Stephanie and Jon went up to the apartment over the garage where she did things that NOBODY should ever do (aka fuck Jon Grosselin).

After their first act of grossness, Jon kept texting Stephanie to tell her how much he cared about her. Their affair continued and Stephanie said they bumped titties at least nine more times at the Gosselin compound. Stephanie said the sex wasn't bad, "but it wasn't the best I ever had."

The sex wasn't bad?! Stephanie needs to have more sex. I'm pretty sure sexing up a rusty wrought iron fence would be hotter. Both will give you Botulism in the vagina, but at least the rusty fence won't constantly send you sappy text messages afterwards.

And not only did Stephanie turn her vagina into a permanent sad face, but she also fucked away her nanny "career." Scratch that last part. I'm sure Rob Lowe and Jude Law have already requested her services.

Image VIA Cover Awards

And so much for everything I ate today fully digesting, because it's all about to come pouring out of my ear, nose and mouth holes thanks to this picture of Jon Grosselin and Meth Brows doing a disgustingly horrific act together! This is a cruel act against humanity! Where is a rabid possum with a thirst for meth brows and douche dough when you need one?! We need to call our congressmen about this fuckery.

You know Jon and Methy only posed for Radar to shoot down the rumors that they are no longer bumping titties in between his Ed Hardy satin sheets. Okay, you two twats win. You're still together. We surrender. Now please don't ever do that shit again in public.

If you're feeling masochistic, you can go on over to Radar to see even more pictures. If I were you, I'd consult my physician before, because this shit will make you ill.