Why Are You Pulling My Dick?

Gerard Butler can remove Warren Beatty's head shot from his "wall of idols," because Warren is shaking his head "no" to a claim that he once ate vagina for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all his snacks. A new book out this week called "Star: How Warren Beatty Seduced America" claims that 72-year-old Warren got sexy with around 12,775 women.

The book's author, Peter Biskind, used his fourth grade education to come up with that number. He wrote, "Using simple arithmetic, Warren slept 12,775 women, give or take, a figure that does not include daytime quickies, drive-bys, casual gropings, stolen kisses and so on."

Wait. DRIVE-BY-FUCKING?! Warren might be pimp of the millennium if he's able to fornicate with a ho while he's in his car and she's sitting on her porch knitting mittens.

Warren's lawyer immediately issued a statement to HuffPo denouncing this shit as just a bunch of lies. According to him, the odometer on Warren's dick does not read 12, 775. Warren's lawyer said, "Mr. Biskind's tedious and boring book on Mr. Beatty was not authorized by Mr. Beatty and should not be published as an authorized biography. "It contains many false assertions and purportedly quotes Mr. Beatty as saying things he never said. Other media should not repeat things from the book on the assumption that they are true or that the book is an authorized biography."

For shits and tingles, let's pretend this is true and Warren's number really is 12,775. Let's also say that Warren turned his v-card in when he was 15. And we'll assume that Warren retired his fuck game in 1992 when he married Annette Bening. Based on that, Warren allegedly went through 319.3 vaginas a year for 40 years. And if Warren didn't hang up his penis in 1992, his number drops to 224.1 a year. Basically, Warren probably slept with your mom. That might explain why she has to "excuse herself to use the bathroom" every time Heaven Can Wait comes on TV.

The Patron Saint of 8-Balls, Mother LiLo, swept into LAX yesterday after returning from her 10-second trip to India, where she has already made enemies.

LiLo went to India to shoot a documentary with the BBC on child trafficking. She knows all about this since she was raised by the two of the biggest child traffickers in the US.

About 5 hours after she arrived in India, LiLo Tweeted that she had saved the lives of 40 children in just one day. LiLo later queefed on her Twatter: "Focusing on celebrities and lies is so disconcerting, when we can be changing the world one child at a time.... hope everyone can see that."

It's true that a bunch of kids in India were saved that day. Saved from looking at LiLo's haggard face, because she wasn't even in the country at the time the police raided several child slave shops Bitch lied about saving children just so she could get a little publicity. White Oprah's heart just beamed for the first time DECADES.

One of India's leading social activists, a man who goes by the singular name of Bhuwan, wants to fist LiLo in the teeth for taking credit for the raid. Bhuwan told The Telegraph that it took 2 months to plan the raid and he didn't appreciate LiLo claiming that she saved the world in the time it takes her nose to suck up a line. He added, "She was not even in the country when this raid happened. We'll be complaining to the BBC and talking to our lawyers ... Would Lohan know where these workshops are?"

A spokesbitch for the BBC issued this statement regarding the allegations that LiLo lied lied LIED: ""Lindsay Lohan has just completed filming in India for a BBC Three project on child trafficking. We would like to stress that she did not say she was present at the raid, this is a misinterpretation. She was merely referring to a raid that happened connected to child trafficking - the subject of the programme."

If I was the spokeswhore of the BBC, I would've taken five steps away from LiLo and issued this simple statement: "Harpo, who dis woman?"

Here's more of LiarLo at LAX yesterday proving that she was in India by showing off the spicy curry ass lips on her face.

Since I'm pretty much riding the ass of this "Levi Johnston in Playgirl" saga, here's the first teaser image from his full spread. It really isn't much, but we do get to see the pube bush on his pit. Although, Levi shouldn't be so quick to show off his wolf pit. A certain Palin would shoot it from a plane if she saw it running out in the wild.

Playgirl plans to unload a few more pictures in the next few days, none of which will contain full peen. Boo.

via Towleroad

Michael Lohan, the current reigning Father of the New Millennium (sorry, Joe Jackson), recently promised that he was going to release a bunch of taped phone conversations he had with his daughter. Well, Michael has come through and released a series of tapes to Radar. According to Michael, he did so because he wants the world to know that his daughter's life is not all rainbows and she desperately needs help. And because he needs a check to continue to buy fancy thread from Michael's to make friendship bracelets like the one above.

In the 3-minute long tape, LiLo cries uncontrollably to her father about how no one cares about her and White Oprah doesn't stand by her. At one point she says, “No one cares about me. They don’t, by the way. It’s about how they feel, not how I feel. It’s not about me. It’s never been about me, unless I fight for it.”

If you picture me saying these things after an 8-hour Mother's Circus Animal Cookie binge, it might make the tape less depressing. But not really.

Michael also has plans to roll out more tapes in the near future. And I'm sure he'll release remixes of each tape too. Michael is truly the Time Life of deadbeat dads.

If enchanted unicorns frolic through Robert Pattinson's hair, what kind of mythical creatures roam through the Grimes Twins' follicle forest? Deaf boy fairies with ingrown wings?

Anyway, the Grimes Twins took some time out form making Simon Cowell's nipples out on the UK's X-Factor to attend last night's A Christmas Carol premiere in London. At the after-party, the twins told The Mirror that everyone is copying their "I fucked myself with a live wire" hairstyle, "This attention is crazy. We're loving every minute. We've even got people copying our hair. Can you believe it."

You know, I don't think people are intentionally copying their hair. They just made the wrong decision of listening to the Grimes Twins sing live without protection (i.e. ear plugs). That shit will make your hair stand up in a quick second. It's your follicles trying to escape to heaven.

I'd show my bits for a drop of sweat you claim you collected from Mah Boo Anderson Cooper's forehead during one of his giggle fits. And I'd even do it knowing that the sweat most likely came from a homeless junkie's upper lip. So, I'm easy. And so is Levi Johnston! Dude needs to stop teasing about showing his peen. Levi's manager/Palin-blocker Tank has already said there's a 90% chance that we will see Levi's moneymaker in his Playgirl spread, but he decided to play coy on his Twitter the other day by asking this question.

We all know Levi will drop the wang for two pieces of moose jerky and a Sarah Palin Cabbage Patch Doll. Stop the Twittering, and whip it out.

By the way, since Levi typed "WANG" Kanye-style, does that mean he's hung like a Gaga? Yes, I always get over-analytical when it comes to dude dick.

VIA Jezebel

I know some of you out there have scratches on your peen from getting down with a pair of fake vampire teeth while thinking of Viking Eric from True Blood! You know who are you (Tommy Girl). Well, you can put those vampire teeth away, because here's something you can safely wrap around your wang. It's the Count Cockula, and the only thing it will hurt is your dignity!

For those of you who prefer your beejes without teeth, let the description really sell it to you:

Polish up your stake and drive it into this soft, vampire mouth for an orgasm that will wake the living dead. Packing the same punch as the original Fleshjacks but housed in a compact soda can and featuring the exclusive Vampire Fang inner canal texture not found on any other Fleshjack product.

And if you're really feeling kinky/lonely, you can use the Count Cockula with the Twidildo! It will be like having a threesome with RPattz and Vampire Beeehl. You won't need lube since your tears of self-pity will get the Count Cockula nice and wet!

With all that being said, I'd hit it. I'm joking (no, I'm not).

(Thanks Thomas)

Spending time with my bong while watching Sandra Lee make recipes out of Rice-A-Roni packets and Steak-Ums is one of my favorite things to do. However, don't make that shit unless you want your guests to clog up your toilet with their own vomit or have you committed. This is why I'm throwing Sandra a "Have You Been Mixing Your Vodka With Lighter Fluid Again?" side-eye for saying that St. Angie made one of her recipes.

Sandra told People, "I was really surprised when her friend let me know she made my No Bake birthday cake. She's a Semi-Homemade mommy just like the rest of us! She's a very busy, overextended mother. I'm very proud not just that she made my cake but that someone of her stature isn't delegating these [tasks], like her children's birthday, to other people. I'm glad she loves the show and that the kids apparently also watch it too."

SANDRA STOP! Sandra probably had too many "Aqworium-tinis" when she was talking to her friend. Her friend actually said, "My friend Gina Jolly thinks you're working with a broken oven." And of course, drunk ass Sandra heard, "My friend Angelina Jolie makes your no bake cake." Besides, St. Angie uses her hands to heal the world, not to make birthday cakes. That's what the child army is for. They are all trained short order line cooks.

And no Sandra Lee post would be complete without another WTF-recipe from her. I can't:

Obviously, we all need to do peyote with Sandra so that we can try to see what she sees.

According to DNA tests, Keanu Reeves is not the father of four grown-ups after all.

A permanent resident of Crazy Town (Mayor: Claire Cruise) who goes by the name of Karen Sala filed papers claiming that Keanu's sperm fish humped on her eggs four times. Karen's kids (no relation) are all adults now, but she was still hitting Keanu up for $150,000 in child support retroactive to June 1988 and $3 million a month in spousal support retroactive from November 2006. Karen might have been married to Keanu in her head, but it was never made legal. Keanu still claims that he's never ever met Karen in real-life. Keanu only agreed to let his peen spit in a cup, so that everyone would know he didn't knock up that loon.

So this means we're not going to get a Keanu & Karen Plus Four reality show after all. Booo. It would've made my whole life year month week to see Keanu's hobo ass pushing around four adults dressed as BABEHS in strollers. Oh, wells.

But wait! Peep that baby bump on Krazy Karen's chin. Homegirl should get that tested, because there's a good chance Cameron Diaz is that pimple baby's father. Get that money, Karen!

In other news, four Canadian adults just changed their last names from Sala to NotASala.

Source

When the keeper of the unicorn forest Robert Pattinson farts, crazed Twihards within a 3-mile radius immediately drop their Twidildos and rush to his ass to suck up the essence of his butt air. Truth. So, RPattz is causing my eyeballs to do the wave by saying he can't get a date. Maybe he can't get a date with a sane person, but he can definitely get a date. We know.

Here's what RPattz told the Sydney Morning Herald (via People), "Girls scream out for Edward, not Robert. I still can't get a date. Like yesterday, I was having lunch down the road. We were in this place for a couple of hours and suddenly there was like 400 people outside on the street. It was just so nuts and it's like that all the time now."

It's obvious that RPattz is busting glitter bombs all over that Kristen Stewart girl, so this "Iz kant gitz a datez" wolfshit is just for show. The truth is, there are millions of insane bitches who would go on a date with a piece of RPattz's caca! Seriously, they would take it to Olive Garden, stroke its back when it got scared during a horror movie, and gently peck it on the lips on the porch of its house at the end of the night.