Winston the dog, a recent graduate of Latarian Milton's Hood Rat Stuff Academy: Canine Department, was arrested and incarcerated after he attacked a police car and chewed its front bumper off. Maybe the bumper smelled like bacon?
The attack happened outside of Winston's house in Chattanooga, Tenn a couple of weeks ago. Winston's owner and the cops aren't sure what set him off, but my guess is that the officers must have been blaring one of Ke$ha's songs on their stereo. You would chew their bumper off too.
Winston has since been released, but a judge ordered that he must complete obedience classes. HA! Winston's got the itch to do bad things, and none of that "sit, stay, quiet" shit is going to stop him. Bitch is a gangster through and through.
If you've been desperately looking for a friend to keep your Placenta Teddy Bear company at home while you're at work, then ruuuuuuuun to Etsy and get yourself the Belly Button Lint Bear! Yeah, it's a tiny teddy bear made out of belly button lint. I'll wait as you dry yack into your palm. Pause. Whistle. Pause. Are you done yet? Ok!
The seller doesn't say how many different belly buttons they had to pick to collect enough lint for one bear. What I want to know is, how can we be sure the lint is coming from belly buttons only? I think we deserve to know if they used clitty lint too.
And I'll holler at you when someone on Etsy starts selling a Butt Dingle Bear. It will complete the trio!
While visiting Haiti earlier this week, George W. Bush and Bill Clinton shook hands with several Haitians in Port Au Prince. Ole' George got a little grossed out by something on his hand and tried to shake it off. When that didn't work, he did what any 5-year-old would do and wiped it on Bill's shirt. HA! That OCD Queen!
If George wants to be less obvious, he should just walk around in a Hamzat suit and make everyone marinate their hands in extra-strength Purell before shaking it.
And Kanye West will bust out a "SEE! I WAS RIGHT!" rant in 3...2...
Apparently, dog show judges like to see a little life in the face of the usually bored Bulldog. So in order to get a "questioning look" on their bull dog's faces, handlers molest their dog's nut bags while holding their heads up.
Dude is straight-up tickling that Bulldog's balls WITH feeling! He's doing it like he really means it. I expected the handler to whisper a love sonnet in the Bulldog's ear or lick his fingers before handling. Sucio.
If the handlers wanted to get a "WTF look" on their Bulldog's faces without taking them to second base, they could just show them this video. Nobody is fluffing my parts (no, not even myself, you sick ass) at the moment and I've definitely got a "questioning look" on my face.
In related news, Kevin Spacey has just announced his retirement from acting so that he can devote his life to being a show Bulldog.
The only reason to watch Celebrity Apprentice is to witness Cyndi Lauper's genius verbal-aneurysms, but the star of last night's episode was some random girl who went up to Rod Blagojevich to tell him that her parents named her after him. No, her parents did not name her "Disgrace." The girl thought Rod was Donny Osmond!
I don't know what's the most tragic part of this. Blago's "Dennis the Menace" hair or the fact that the girl was named after Donny Osmond. It's a toss-up.
And I'm pretty sure Cyndi Lauper still thinks she was competing against Donny Osmond.
We all need to move to Japan and get jobs as Don Drapers, because it's obvious that they encourage you to eat LSD tabs during brainstorming sessions. That's the only way I can explain this trippy, terrifying commercial starring a broken-hearted boy (who is trespassing, by the way), an Adrien Brody look-alike and a bag of drugs masquerading as chips.
Actually, there's another explanation as to why this commercial is a total mind fuck: IT'S FROM JAPAN.
When the hell did the producers of American Gladiators start working on America's Next Top Model? Damn. During last night's episode, the mighty foreheaded one forced the girls to walk down two flights of stairs and then dodge giant pendulums on the runway. Alexandra not only fell down the stairs, but she was almost disemboweled by one of TyTy's giant metal forehead covers.
What is TyTy going to make them do next? Pose with poisonous insects? Wait, she's already done that. Maybe she'll make them blackout while holding their breath during an underwater shoot? Wait, she's done that too. I give up. Tyra is seriously the master of torture. This shit should be re-titled America's Next Top Urgent Care Patient.
via The Life Files
It isn't Thanksgiving until one of your family members throws a drink in your face before telling you how much they hate you. It isn't Christmas until one of your kids calls you a bad parent because you didn't buy them the right gift. And it surely isn't St. Patrick's Day until you pay a visit to the Crackhead Leprechaun of Mobile, Alabama! You see the leprechaun, so say YEAH!
And I know you've been searching all day for the perfect song to play during your St. Patty's Day party (aka just you and your dog chilling on the sofa with a plate of green Twinkies) tonight. Well, search no more:
My internet connection must be hungover, because bitch is not cooperating today! It gets up for a quick second, and then passes the hell out again. So please talk amongst yourselves while I try to round-up the Duggars so that they can form a prayer circle around my modem. Or maybe Michelle can give birth to a Time Warner technician who can fix this shit!
First I get a bad omen in the form of a single black Cheerio landing in my cereal bowl, and then this nekkid picture of Mad Men's Rich Sommer hits my inbox. I'm going to blame it on daylight saving time. This week you are allowed to blame everything on DST.