Try The Jello
2011 is turning out to be the year sad tears washed the shine off of diamonds. Diamonds have already dimmed their sparkle for Zsa Zsa Gabor and now they're dropping their dimmer switch a few more inches for Dame Elizabeth Taylor. Elizabeth was hospitalized at Cedars in Los Angeles for symptoms caused by congestive heart failure. Elizabeth's heart has been through a million husbands including Larry Fortensky's Fraggle mullet ass so I'm sure it's strong as all fuck and will keep on for a few more decades to come. Liz's rep had this to say to People:
"This issue is being addressed. She is currently being kept in the hospital for monitoring. Her family and close friends are appreciative of the warm support and interest of her loyal fans, but have asked that people respect her privacy and allow her medical team the time and space to focus on restoring her back to health."
Can somebody go to the porch and hit pause on Tom Ryan's gambling addiction for a quick minute? If he already didn't lose them in a bet, Elizabeth is going to need those good luck earrings back.
This is what Charlie Sheen gets for asking his leased pussy peddlers to give him a speedball enema followed by a gerbil chaser. Charlie ended up on top of a hospital bed with "suffering from severe abdominal pains" written on his medical file. TMZ reports that at around 6:30 this morning, an ambulance was called to Charlie's house. Sources say that the paramedics rolled Charlie out on a stretcher and two young ladies followed behind him. There was a towel covering part of Charlie's face.
Neighbors say that they think Charlie was having a party at his house last night, because they heard a bunch of girls singing to the Red Hot Chili Peppers (Note from a doctor: RHCP karaoke will lead to severe internal pains) all night long.
Charlie's rep confirms that he's in the hospital now and his father and mother are with him. Another source tells TMZ that Charlie is waiting for test results to come back and they think "it's serious."
I swear, Charlie's liver is wondering what it has done in a past life to deserve this kind of treatment. And Charlie already spends tens of thousands of dollars on call girls a week and now he's going to have to cut a percentage of Denise Richards' child support check in order to spend even more. I mean, CPR certified call girls don't come cheap.
Parrrotheads and parakeets all over the world are bawling for Jimmy Buffett after he suffered a major cut on his head from falling off the stage in Australia today. One witness tells TMZ that Jimmy was singing out the last song of his show when a lighting tech blinded him by flashing a gigantic spotlight across the stage. 64-year-old Jimmy couldn't see and he accidentally stepped his way to BOOM. A different witness claims that the spotlight had nothing to do with Jimmy's fall. They say Jimmy tried to reach over to touch one of his fan's hands and he didn't realize that he was that close to the edge.
Jimmy hit his head and had cartoon birds circling around his head for at least 5 minutes. When Jimmy came to, an ambulance shuffled him off to the hospital where he's currently listed in stable condition. Jimmy is expected to stay overnight for observation.
Judging by the video, I'm not sure which witness to go with. I'm leaning towards the second since it looks like Jimmy thought his foot would land on safe ground and it didn't. Sort of like going on a trust walk with Stevie Wonder. We'll all pray to a giant margarita (and cheeseburger) that Jimmy fully recovers very soon.
I've never had the pleasure of meeting Martha Stewart's french bulldog Francesca, but just by looking at her I can tell that the bitch will split your lip if you interrupt her beauty sleep. That's exactly what happened to Martha the other morning, but don't holler for Cesar Millan just yet, because it was an accident. An accident (I'm on your side, Frannie)!!!!
Martha wrote a post on her blog (via TMZ) today about how she caught a sleeping Francesca by surprise when she leaned down to whisper a sweet goodbye into her dog's ear. Just like Martha in prison when her cellmate tried to steal her knitting needle made from a TV antenna, Francesca shot up and headbutted her in the lip. As the blood poured out of Martha's lip, she made a mental note to paint the back wall in her farmhouse kitchen the exact same color. Then Martha thought about stitching herself up using imported French thread, but when she realized that wasn't going to work she signaled for her driver to take her to the hospital!
I called the police to ask for a ride to the hospital, forgetting that Carlos, my driver was waiting to drive me into the city. Carlos and Betsy Perreten, my stable manager, packed me into the car and we drove in the falling snow the few miles to the emergency room in Northern Westchester Hospital, my wonderful neighborhood medical center. When we arrived, I was instructed to lie down and wait until the plastic surgeon on call, Dr. William Nolan, could get there from his nearby home. The pictures tell the rest of the story. Thank you, Betsy, for taking the photos. Thank you Carlos, Alexis, and Mike. Thanks to the hospital staff for their prompt and professional attention and of course, Thank you, Dr. Nolan!
Martha claims that Francesca was all torn up inside for accidentally fucking her ass up. Yeah, here's Francesca being all upset and shit:
That's definitely a "you'll get yours for this" face.
Well, technically it's a gently used kidney, but it's new to his body so it works. Entertainment Weekly says that Tracy Morgan will be out of at least 2 episodes of 30 Rock next year because he's recovering from a kidney transplant. Tracy, who suffers from diabetes, got a new kidney installed on December 10th. If the nurse taking my blood misses the vein, I have to call up some kind of trauma hotline to talk the pain out, so if I had a kidney transplant I'd be hugging my Pillow Person in the fetal position for weeks. But Tracy Morgan is built from stronger parts, because he's already out doing shit. Tracy was at the Knicks game on Friday night. Tracy's rep had this to say about the whole thing:
“Tracy is doing well and taking some much needed time to recover after the surgery. He is looking forward to going back to work after the holidays.”
The writers of 30 Rock will explain Tracy's absence by saying that he had some sort of breakdown.
Get better, Tracy! Try the sugar-free Jello and all that. Oh, and congratulations to the medical team who operated on Tracy. Unless they soaked in Spermacide, downed a birth control shake and slipped a NuvaRing on every one of their fingers before the surgery, they're now pregnant with Tracy's babies.
A dark cloud blew into the dusty ashglobe in my chest yesterday when it was reported that Aretha Franklin is down and out with a life-threatening disease. Some say that the disease is cancer, and others specifically said it's incurable pancreatic cancer. Aretha's publicist has Super Glued his lips shut about this topic and has yet to release any kind of statement about her condition or what's keeping her laid up in a hospital bed. But Aretha's cousin (It's always the cousin!) Brenda Corbett tells the Detroit Free Press (via AP) that the Queen will be back to hollerin' her wig off on stage in the late spring or early summer.
Cousin Brenda put it like this: “Aretha is doing better than doctors expected. She has a long life in front of her and will be back in concert, on stage, late spring or early summer. This girl is doing great, and they (The National Enquirer) need to stop it.”
Aretha's sister-in-law Earline wouldn't even put the tip of her finger on The National Enquirer story, but she did say this: “Aretha is doing absolutely wonderful. All the prayers and well wishes have supported her, and she’s doing well.” BUT another one of Aretha's relatives who wished to remain nameless confirmed The National Enquirer story and said it is pancreatic cancer.
Why do we all have that one "I wish to remain nameless" relative in our family? You know that bitch. That one family member who whispers like it was their major in community college. They're always huddled in the corner with your auntie talking shush-like. When their eyes catch your eyes staring at them, they straighten up and switch gears. When you ask them what they were talking about, they look you in the eyelashes and say some shit like, "Just talking about how the El Pollo Loco rice is soggy." And you're thinking to yourself, "I know who's getting a 98 cent gift certificate to the 99 Cent Store this Christmas!"
And just for the record, Cousin Kelly, I wasn't lying about the El Pollo Loco rice being soggy! It really was!
Justin Bieber's army of Beliebers made #PrayforSamuel a trending topic on Twitter yesterday after their leader's appearance on the German TV show Wetten, Dass? was canceled due to a stunt gone tragically wrong. 23-year-old student Samuel Koch was supposed to jump over an Audi driven by his father and bask in the audiences' applause. Unfortunately, it didn't go down like that. Samuel landed directly on his face and stopped moving. If this happened in America, they would've replayed it in slow motion a million times with narrations, but the producers of Wetten, Dass? immediately canceled the show.
The Telegraph reports that Samuel was rushed to the University Clinic in Düsseldorf where he underwent emergency surgery. The doctor treating Samuel told reporters that Samuel's spinal cord was damaged and he suffered injuries to his neck vertebrae. They said that his injuries aren't fatal, but he is showing signs of paralysis. Apparently, Samuel is talking, but he's still listed in critical condition today.
God is obviously a tits man (I can already feel my abuelita's switch triple slapping my hands for that one) because he anointed himself the head conductor of Aretha Franklin's mystery surgery and led her doctors to success! That's what Aretha said anyway in a statement to USA Today following the surgery for an ailment she doesn't want to discuss (areola lift?). A small prayer vigil was held for Aretha in Downtown Detroit on Wednesday night and Queen Aretha thanked them for rebuking the ills (or whatever is keeping her down) from her being:
"The surgery was highly successful. God is still in control. I had superb doctors and nurses whom were blessed by all the prayers of the city and the country. God bless you all for your prayers!
The Queen of Soul, Ms. Aretha Franklin"
You hear that, Stevie Johnson? God's (wearing his strongest weight lifting belt) got Aretha's back, so don't mad the next time you screw up a touchdown. God's got more important things to tend to like the downsizing of Aretha's mammary mountains. That's what I'm guessing this "mystery surgery" is anyway and strangely enough it's not making me throw a black veil over my nipples and wail out in mourning. I understand. Aretha's spine needs a vacation. Like a toothpick holding up two turduckens. Arethan's chichis will always be magnificent to me even though her cleavage will no longer be able to hide every item on the Dollar Menu.
Seen her in better days breathing in the sweet muskiness wafting off of Burt Reynolds' stache, Zsa Zsa Gabor once again suffered a medical emergency at her mansion in Beverly Hills this afternoon. TMZ says that Zsa Zsa was lounging on her pink silk princess bed under a crystal chandelier when one of her legs started to swell up like the time her vengeful maid switched her Cle de Peau face cream with St. Ives.
Zsa Zsa's personal doctor immediately ran up the marble staircase to her bedroom to examine her. Zsa Zsa's doctor discovered a huge ass blood clot in her leg and called for an ambulance to take her to UCLA Medical Center. Her doctor was worried that the blood clot would travel up her leg and start to fuck with her vital organs. FYI: Zsa Zsa's doctor has x-ray eyes so do not question his skills.
How many times has Zsa Zsa been in the hospital this year? And how many times does she keep slapping at the angels who try to take her to heaven? Keep slapping those angels, Zsa Zsa, because crystals will stop sparkling and marabou feathers will wilt without in the world.
Just a few days after losing her baby 6 months into pregnancy, Lily Allen is back in the hospital being treated for a blood condition called septicemia. I've never heard of septicemia and usually I ask my mom about these kinds of things since she has a PhD in Dr. Oz Watching with a Masters in The Doctors Watching, but she's not around so I went to that know-it-all bitch Google and they told me this:
Septicemia is the presence of bacteria in the blood (bacteremia) and
is often associated with severe infections. Septicemia can begin with
spiking fevers, chills, rapid breathing, and rapid heart rate.
Serious cases can be deadly, but apparently Lily is in stable condition and she's getting better. Her rep had this to say:
"She is responding well to treatment and her condition continues to improve. Lily thanks everyone for their messages of support and again asks that she and partner Sam Cooper be left alone whilst she recovers."
It's been damn rough for Lily lately. So yeah, I guess I'll stop bitching to everybody about how this weather is making my hair go flaccid like an ice cold dick. Good thoughts to Lily.