Real Housewives Shit

On Sunday night's The Real Howives of Atlanta, common felon turned kept bitch Marlo Hampton got into a butch bitch battle royale with resident doberman Sheree Whitfield and it quickly turned into Marlo bragging about how her townhouse is paid for, her Aston Martin is in her name and she didn't have to spend a cent of her own money on her adam's apple removal surgery. (I made that one up, but pass me Marlo's medical file and I'm sure I'll be able to point to it.) Sheree then let it be known that Marlo got all of the fancy shit she owns by opening her legs to an 80-year-old white sugar daddy. I know, Sheree said it like it's a bad thing. Marlo is just using what a good surgeon gave her to make it rain hundred dollar bills without getting out of bed. My dream job.

Part of me thinks that Marlo was one of those frontin' hos who drives a 1988 Toyota Tercel with an Aston Martin shell over it, lives in the detached garbage behind the townhouse she says she owns and buys all of her luxury "designer" bags from an exclusive boutique housed in the back of a truck. But if Hello Beautiful (via C+D) is right, then I'm very wrong. Because they're hearing from a source that Marlo hit the sugar daddy jackpot yeeeeaaaars ago when billionaire Ted Turner put her on his payroll:

“Ted Turner was Marlo’s sugar daddy. My understanding is that Marlo is one of the reasons why Jane Fonda divorced Ted Turner.

Ted Turner is the 'sponsor' who financed the The Red Carpet Boutique Marlo had at the Perimeter mall in ATL. Marlo knows how to get money, she’s a true hustler.”

Well, color me impressed and punch me in the face with a Hanoi Jane fist. Marlo is not only a spot-on Chilli from TLC female impersonator, but she's also a successful gold digger. Marlo's talents know no bounds and here she is showing off one of the talents she shares with her arch rival Sheree:

Say what you want about Marlo, but you can't deny that she has the fighting skills of one of those sound-activated goblin Halloween props you buy at Walgreens. Now that is a true talent.

No mug shot camera has ever frosted up the way one did when the belle of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, Dwight Eubanks, posed in front of it after getting arrested in Atlanta last Wednesday. Believe it or not, Dwight wasn't arrested for assault with a deadly pucker. Mr. Peanut's charm school coach and long-lost twin was put into handcuffs for driving with a suspended license. The most embarrassing part is that Dwight was pulled over in a Chevy Tahoe. A delicate dandy like Dwight should be chauffeured around in a gold carriage pulled by white stallions wearing gingham print capes. Not a Chevy Tahoe! My body just went as limp as Sheree's dick after Bob served her.

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution says that Dwight was pulled over for a burnt out headlight and when they asked for his identification, he showed them the label on a jar of Planters Peanuts. That wasn't good enough for the police and when they did a quick search on Dwight, they found that his license was suspended. Dwight was arrested, charged and later released.

Dwight is the sweet treat you find in the middle of a Tootsie Pop and his queefs are the secret ingredient in smelling salts, so how dare he be treated like this. Dwight gets arrested for driving with a bunk license, yet Sheree struts free even after she murdered dozens of ear drums with this:

At least I think that's Sheree "singing".... But if you told me it was Scrappy-Doo, I wouldn't call you a liar.

(Mugshot of Beautee via MyFoxPhoenix)

But in a shocking turn of events, this time she's actually the one married to the married man!

A flock of white doves wearing tiny blond wiglets flew over Atlanta yesterday after 33-year-old (in Courtney Stodden years) Kim Zolciak of The Real Messes of Atlanta married the man who owns the ass that she was creaming at the mouth over all last season. Kim and Atlanta Falcons player Kroy Biermann married on 11/11/11, because her lacefront squeezed her last memory chip out of her brain and those numbers added together make up his IQ, so it's an easy date to remember (but you know those dumb bitches will still forget it).

Life & Style, who paid for the EXCLUSIVO rights for the wedding pictures with a half-full jar of wig glue and an at-home collagen kit, has all the details that I know you give a thousand fucks about:

"This has been the happiest day of my life," Kim exclusively tells Life & Style. "It's been perfect. It's been a dream come true."

As Life & Style previously reported, Kim, 34, and Kroy, 26, got engaged in October after welcoming their first son, Kroy Jagger, together in May.

"He makes me a better person," says Kim. "I love everything about him."

The couple met at a charity function in 2010, during the filming of the third season of the hit Bravo reality series. Kim has two daughters, Brielle and Ariana, from a previous marriage. This is the first marriage for Kroy.

If NeNe, Phaedra, Cynthia and HeRee were there, they probably synchronized their divorce clock watches and made bets on if Kim is going to beat Kim Kardashian's 72 second-long queef of a marriage record. I'll bet that she will. This marriage is going to last about as long as the time she was a lesbian.

Kim will probably have to slap on a divorcin' wig in a few months, but at least 11/11/11 will always be the day that she wore a dress that made her look like her belly button heaved out intestines made of satin. This is the hideous barf spray of a wedding gown that Kim wore and ONTD says that the pre-owned dress cost Kim $58,000.

Yes, 58 fucking thousand dollars for a dress that looks like Liberace shat crystals on a Ballard Designs comforter and then slit its stomach and pulled out all of its satin internal organs. It's like the tackiest satin blood clot you've ever seen. To think, Kim could've had a She by Sheree ORIGINAL and she went with this shit instead? I bet Sheree shook her head at that thought as she collected the centerpieces from each table so she can sell them on eBay and pay her rent next month.

Aaaaaand add this to the long list of shit we can blame Tyra for.

On the left is Melissa Gorga, the tone-deaf trophy wife of Teresa Giudice's (aka Gorilla Head) brother on The Real Housewives on New Jersey. On the right is Melissa Gorga wearing a recycled low-budget fat suit and a droopy prosthetic chin for one of those useless social experiment episodes of Entertainment Tonight. We know how this is going to go. Melissa is going to cry about how everyone stared at her and treated her differently when she had on the fat suit, and once she transforms back into a vapid skinny bitch she'll treat fat people with kindness. Or some other jack off hand motion like that.

Bitch, people aren't staring at you, because you're fat and have a camera crew following you. They're throwing you scared looks, because you don't even have a human body. People don't look like that. You look like a bag of melted caramel marshmallows after a Pepto-Bismol bottle shat all over it. Not to mention that your chin is about to unlock from your head and fall to the sidewalk to be devoured by pigeons. Eric Stoltz in Mask, you are not!

I'm all for ET conducting one of these social experiments even though they have been done a thousand times before and are so played out that even Fishsticks Paltrow's stupid ass did it in a movie, but couldn't they have spent more money on a better fat suit? The Bed, Bath and Beyond plastic bags full of 4 pillows that I carried on the subway this past weekend would've made a better fat suit than that piece of shit crap on her body. A STUNT QUEEN with a pauper budget is the worst.

Massive Mocha, please squash this dumb bitch.

The Seal Team 6, The National Guard, Sylvia Browne, peroxide-sniffing dogs and a group of concerned citizens (body count: 0) all gathered in Virginia this morning after noted STUNT QUEEN, White House Crasher and asshole of The Real Housewives of DC, Tareq Salahi, told TMZ that he believes his wife and partner in fakery Michaele Salahi was kidnapped since she hasn't been home for a full day. The good (?) news is that Michaele wasn't snatched, is still alive and simply took a midnight train. The bad news is that the midnight train wasn't headed for the edge of a cliff. The midnight train was headed for Nashville where Michaele met up with her side-piece Neal Schon from Journey. HAMber alert!

This pr stunt mess all started when Michaele called Tareq last night from a strange phone number and said she was going to her mom's. Michaele's mom told Tareq that she never spoke to her daughter and she wasn't at her house. So naturally, Tareq figured that Michaele was kidnapped and her abductors were making her say she's okay. When Michaele didn't come home this morning, Tareq begged the FBI to help him find his wife. The FBI rolled their eyes and wouldn't waste tax dollars on that mess since they know how the Salahis do it. Tareq later held a press conference where he said that he's being serious and asked the public to help him find his wife ("OKAY!" - nobody from the public).

Tareq might need the public to help him find a divorce attorney that works for free, because a rep for Journey confirms to TMZ that Michaele is traveling around Tennessee with her piece Neal Schon. A source claims that Michaele and Neal have known each for a while and used to crash each other's genitals.

Is TMZ sure they got a statement from the real rep from the real Journey? Knowing Michaele's lying ass, she's probably really dating a guy who once sold a guitar to Neal Schon on Craigslist and gets his biggest score on Guitar Hero when he plays "Any Way You Want It." I hope I'm right for Neal's sake. It's one thing to always get mistaken for a Claymation Bruce Springsteen, it's another for people to think that you're doing one of the White House Crashers.

If the Mayans are right and 2012 is the year of We're Fucked, then that means 2011 is the year of Fuck It which makes sense when you look at this cover of The Real Housewives of NYC's Kelly Benismon on September's Shape Magazine. Yes, THAT Kelly Bensimon. The Kelly Bensimon who really looks like a water-damaged leather duffel bag handle with tits that are slowly starting to migrate to her back so that they can slide down and escape out of her asshole. Shape Magazine didn't even try to make that ho on the cover look like Kelly Bensimon. Bitches used the hell out of the Honey Badger tool on Photoshop!

You know, I take it back. This isn't the work of Photoshop. This is the work of copy + Elmer's. The body, the face, the earrings and the hair are all strangers to each other and were forced together in a nightmare land. This is basically the Breakfast Club of magazine covers. I've seen badly cut out paper dolls that look more human than this.

And Kelly told Shape (via Radar) that despite the rumors that the bad shit has eaten the sanity out of her brains, she's completely drug-free:

“My body is like a Ferrari. I know what it needs to run well — and that doesn’t include drugs, alcohol, or cigarettes.”

A Ferrari? HO STOP. More like the torn out leather seat of a broken Ferrari that has been left out in the middle of a junkyard for the pit bulls to chew at.

Here's Kelly working her real body last March in a photo shoot for Abs of Meth.

Taylor Armstrong of The Real Horsemouths of Beverly Hills filed papers earlier this month to legally quit her creepy husband of 6 years Russell Armstrong and she's telling People one of the reasons why she chose to do. It wasn't because Russell's checking account is as dead as the feeling in her lips. It also wasn't because the ghost of her creator Wayland Flowers is pulling her strings away from Russell's gross ass. Taylor says it's because their marriage made a sharp turn onto Ike Turner Road.

When I knew the filing had gone through, I just started to cry. We tried hard to fix our marriage, but it wasn't healthy. I hope we can co-parent as healthy as possible," she says, adding she'd like joint custody. He's an amazing dad, and I want her to still think her dad is the greatest guy on the planet.

I think I hurt for my daughter more than I do for myself. It feels like a big loss that she's not going to grow up with both of her parents in the same house."

According to Taylor, Russell cursed her out, shoved her, pushed her and pulled at her hair during fights. Russell admits to pushing Taylor around, but blames it on Bravo.

"Did I push her? Yes, maybe things happened in the heat of the moment, but it was during a time in our lives that was not characteristic of who we were. This show has literally pushed us to the limit."

Literally pushed them? I wish the show would somehow grow silicone arms and push both of their asses off and over the limit.

Taylor always spits out collagen-covered lies, but I still believe her lying ass. Russell is just a bag of gross who probably has chronic coffee breath and doesn't make one sound when he cums (that's the worst). He probably trolls Craigslist looking for phone fucking dates, but when he finally gets one he just breathes really heavy and asks you to talk about what kind of shampoo you use. Yes, I'm speaking from experience.

My favorite part is when Taylor says that she hopes her daughter will forever think that her dad is the greatest living man ever. Yeah, I'm sure that when her daughter gets older and brings up this interview on microfiche (it's going to make a big comeback, okay?) in the school computer lab, she's going to happy sigh in her heart after reading that her dad yanked at her mom's weave. I know I would. And then I'd show my mother the "how to get out of an abusive relationship" instructional video titled Sleeping with the Enemy.

Here's the trailer for the second season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and it's sort of like watching a mound of orange Play Doh melt inside of a bedazzled microwave. And I'm mostly talking about Taylor Armstrong's lips that look like they're slowly eating the rest of her face.

Based on this mess of a trailer, it looks like the petals on the crazy flower in Camille Grammer's brain are staying mostly intact this season and most of the insanity comes from Kim Richards and that lunatic bitch who LeAnn Rimes wants to hallow out and crawl into. I'm talking about Eddie Cibrian's ex-wife Brandi Glanville who accuses Kim of doing meth in the bathroom and then threatens to murder ass.

This mess will be a good season as long as Giggy gets more screen time and there's at least one cameo from Kim's STUNNING pearl choker and bracelet.

And here's an exclusive first look at what happens when Brandi and Kim take their bitch fight out to the front steps:

On last night's season finale of The Real Horseflies of New York City, Cuntess LuMann de Lesseps threw a party on a boat to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of dating her boyfriend Dahveed Schwimmière. LuAnn throwing herself a fancy party for her 1 year dating anniversary is one kind of confusion, but Natalie Cole agreeing to sing at that mess is another. Earlier in the episode, Natalie magically ran into LuAnn at a recording studio and agreed to sing a duet with her at the party. This crap put the du(du) in duet.

If you crawled into Nat King Cole's grave, opened his coffin and gave his skeleton mouth to mouth bones, the sound that comes out of him would sound a million times better than what came out of LuAnn's last night.

I never saw Natalie shake her head and make a "so it's come to this" face, but I did it for her. I'm surprised that Natalie Cole singing a duet with The Cuntness didn't make Hell freeze over and send an icy glacier up through the Hudson to break that boat in two.

L is for the way my ears leak blood....

In a move that even Alison the Slycic's e-cig could've predicted, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills' Taylor Armstrong has dropped divorce papers in the lap of her cunt-hearted creeper husband Russell Armstrong after 6 years of marriage. Russell is going broke and it's obvious to everyone that Taylor only married him for his cash, so she's doing what every gold digger should do when her shovel comes up empty: bitch is packing up her pool noodle lips and getting out of there.

Out of fear that the gallons of collagen in her lips will burn off from all the quivering it does while she cries about how empty her husband's checking account is, Taylor Lipstrong tells People that she has decided to leave his ass for good.

"It was a difficult decision but I have decided to file for divorce from Russell. Although we have tried our best to work out our differences, I have come to the conclusion that it is in the best interest of our family that we separate. Together we are the proud parents of a sweet and wonderful little girl and she remains my number one priority. I am sad for my marriage to come to an end, but am confident that this is the right choice for all involved."

Taylor is a superficial, puppy-hating, annoying gnat that looks like she just crawled out of a vat of acid in Gotham City, but Russell is just ugh. I don't know how she boned that shit. Russell probably prints out a really complex Excel spreadsheet, tapes it to the headboard and licks it as he does Taylor missionary style. I just... No. But at least, Taylor will soon be free to marry her real love:

COTTON CANDY!