Why Are You Pulling My Dick?
In what has to be one of the weirdest American traditions next to stabbing each other's faces off for a 10% off Xbox360 controller the day after Thanksgiving, hundreds pulled themselves out of bed to gather around Punxsutawney Phil's burrow hole in Pennsylvania to predict if we'll have six more weeks of whatever season we're in. The weather tells me that it's not winter, because I wore a t-shirt yesterday and didn't get frostbite to the nipples. This is like winter in hell. YAY for global warming! Let's all raise a can of Aqua Net and spray until the hole in the ozone layer spreads wider than a power bottom on DP Tuesdays at the bathhouse. Keep spraying until it's ten million degrees everywhere, we're all in our thongs we can't walk down the street without tripping over a seal.
Anyway, Punksatwatney Phil pulled his fat, lazy, works-one-day-a-year ass out of his burrow hole this morning and locked eyes with his shadow. Whatever. Phil doesn't know his asshole from his shadow. I would trust the weather prediction skills of a gerbil out of Richard Gere's burrow hole before I would ever trust Phil. We should just let Phil live his lazy life by letting him sleep in on February 2nd. Besides, Phil needs his rest, because in a couple of years, winter will not exist and the heat will bring him out of his burrow hole forever. Phil will have to shave his coat off and drag himself across the desert to bitch fight a seal for the last drop of water in a discarded Poland Springs bottle. On that note...
Happy Bill Murray Day, everyone!
And here's some pictures of Phil's Canadian third cousin, The Lesbeaver, shooting scenes for the all-girl remake of Gleaming the Cube in Miami yesterday.
Fran Drescher and her ex-husband Peter (the one who ended their marriage after declaring his undying love for peen) both have the same kind of scar on the same spot and that could only mean one thing: they were both kidnapped by aliens, microchipped and programmed to meet each other. Obviously. Fran tells HuffPo that when she was in junior high school, the aliens beamed her up into their spaceship and tagged her ass. It's like the recurring wet dream that Tommy Girl wishes would become real life.
"You know, it's funny because Peter and I both saw [aliens] before we knew each other, doing the same thing, driving on the road with our dads. We were both in junior high. A few years later, we met, and we realized that we had the same experience. I think that somehow we were programmed to meet. We both have this scar. It's the exact same scar on the exact same spot."
I bet that when the aliens shimmied the chip up under her skin, Fran let out one of her ear hair-burning laughs and the aliens immediately dropped her back on earth before vowing to never subject themselves to torture like that again. Fran single-handedly saved us from an alien invasion! But seriously, Fran and Peter weren't TAKEN. Those bitches just did way too many whip-its and freebased way too many spices in junior high school. That scar is probably from a bong burn. I'm sure Demi Moore is also telling her therapist that she was abducted by damn aliens.
The term BOLD BITCH has just been redefined, so update your dictionaries. Susanna Barrett, a pageant mom who's been on Toddlers & Tiaras before, has thrown a $30 million lawsuit at TMZ, The Huffington Post and the greatest news source in every universe The Daily Mail for sexualizing her 5-year-old daughter Isabella by posting a video of Isabella singing to LMFAO's "I'm Sexy And I Know It" at a club in NYC. Somebody hand me a bedazzled Kleenex, because a pristine tear of happiness slides down my cheek every time a mother pushes blame on another trick to get a quick check out of it. The Pimp Mama Kris Effect is a beautiful thing.
MSNBC says that in the lawsuit filed in NYC on Tuesday, Susanna claims that the video (seen above in all of its terrifying animatronic glory) is the epitome of G-rated innocence and the media turned it into a piece of illegal sucioness by writing shit like "gyrating in a nightclub and singing about her sex appeal" to describe Isabella's performance.
"(Isabella) did not understand the concept of sex, let alone 'sex appeal' and could not have been singing about her own sex appeal. It is the defendants who, through their articles, have thrust these false and vulgar characteristics on to Isabella. As a result, Isabella is now perceived sexually, erotically and pornographically, and (the stories) have placed Isabella in serious physical danger, attracting the attention of others who would seek to sexualize a child."
I've pulled the Lawyer career card at least three times during the Game of Life and this makes me an expert at law shit, so you can trust me when I say that all of that legal talk translates into: "If anybody's going to make a dollar by sexualizing Isabella, it's going to be Susanna Barrett and Susanna Barrett only! Now empty your fanny pack, Harvey!"
Isabella is the same girl who looked into the camera and said that her 3-year-old arch rival Paisley Dickey (NO COMMENT) dresses like a hooker. So not only should Paisley Dickey (again, NO COMMENT) throw a lawsuit at Isabella for hookerizing her by calling her a wannabe hooker, but White Oprah should also file a lawsuit against every single media outlet for crackieizing her innocent daughter by posting picture after picture of her behaving like a complete cracked out crackhead mess.
Prepare yourself to know what it feels like to never trust anything that comes out of Brad Pitt's mouth again (because I know that up until this point you hugged every word that came out of Brad Pitt's mouth with warm arms of trust). Brad Pitt has regularly declared before the gay gods (aka a sculpture of Rojo Caliente riding a Liberace unicorn centaur down a flannel rainbow) that he will never slip a wedding band on Angie Jo's bony finger until everybody in the U.S. can get married. Well, the bitch is a teller of lies.
As you and your same-sex partner wait at City Hall until it's legal for you to file a marriage certificate, the asshole who vowed to stand with you until the end will whisk on by with his zombie vampira skeleton bride and cut in front of the line. RIGHT IN YOUR BETRAYED FACE. Because Brad tells The Hollywood Reporter that he's probably going to break his promise by becoming Angie's third husband:
"We’d actually like to, and it seems to mean more and more to our kids. We made this declaration some time ago that we weren’t going to do it till everyone can. But I don’t think we’ll be able to hold out. It means so much to my kids, and they ask a lot. And it means something to me, too, to make that kind of commitment.
I’m not going to go any further. But to be in love with someone and be raising a family with someone and want to make that commitment and not be able to is ludicrous, just ludicrous.”
I'm going to force myself to not get hypnotized by the fact that Brad's goatee looks like an upright grandpa stache and an upside-down grandpa stache holding hands over a soul patch, because there's more important matters at hand (not really). Brad has just proven that he cares about keeping his commitments as much as he cares about finding a shampoo for extra oily hair. (Seriously, Brad, it's not hard. Just ask someone at Sally's Beauty.) If Brad rips the notary stamp off the promise he made to gays and gayelles, how can Angie Jo trust that he won't rip the notary stamp off the marital bowels (Oh, Freud, I love it when you trip me) he makes to her? Oh, wait.
Elton John's husband David Furnish went on a bitter old queen rant the night Madge won the Golden Globe for Best Song over the song from his movie Gnomeo & Juliet. Shots were fired and Madge made a mental note to claim the soul of David's first born Zachary by revenge fucking him in 18 years. We should all assume that Madge also threatened to strangle David with her velocicrotch in his sleep, because he's put down his weapon, slid it over to her side and is now saying on Facebook (via UsWeekly) that his words were blown out of proportion.
"Wow! What a tempest in a teapot. My comments regarding The Golden Globes have been blown way out of proportion. My passion for our film Gnomeo & Juliet and belief in Elton's song really got my emotional juices going. But I must say for the record that I do believe Madonna is a great artist, and that Elton and I wish her all the best for next week's premiere of the film W.E."
Hmmm. I wonder which part was blown out of proportion? The part where he wrote "Madonna for Best Song? Fuck off!" or the part where he wrote that her "acceptance speech was embarrassing in its narcissism." Or maybe the part where he used her old CD booklets to line the inside of Elton's Depends? I hate it when this shit happens. David let his bitter bitch flag fly brightly and now he's backpedaling up Madge's ass, because he's afraid she's going to make his hairline jump back a few inches when she puts him in a neck-hold with her engorged peen arms. David is an embarrassment in his wussyissism (and I'm an embarrassment for using the word wussyissism).
And when you write the line "my passion for our film Gnomeo & Juliet," everything you write afterward should be struck from the record, because it's obvious you're okay with not making sense and it's not right for you to drag us down too.
Speaking of W.E., here's a piece of The Daily Telegraph's smile-inducing, heartwarming and day-making review:
Madonna’s skill with the camera seems to extend to her being able to turn it on, but not a great deal further: to liven up an argument between Wallis and Edward, she has her romantic leads inexplicably run around a tree trunk. Later, we see Wallis dancing the Charleston with an African tribeswoman to the strains of 'Pretty Vacant’ by The Sex Pistols in front of a Charlie Chaplin film, which must be a strong contender for the most garbled, half-baked image in cinema history.
W.E. is — still — a stultifyingly vapid film, festooned with moments of pure aesthetic idiocy. With characteristic humbleness, Madonna performs a song called 'Masterpiece’ over the end credits, although one can’t help but feel that her 2003 number one single 'Sorry’ might have been more appropriate.
Now that's how it's done, David! W.E.'s chances at getting nominated for an Oscar are as bleak as my asshole getting nominated for an Oscar, but the academy should still flash this review when they acknowledge Madge's movie career in the In Memoriam segment.
ABC has chopped up Cynthia McFadden's interview with Madge and has sold it off in parts to Nightline (aired last night), Good Morning America (aired today) and 20/20 (airing tonight), and so the quotes are slowly trickling out like water torture. On Nightline last night, Madge kicked CaCa's tuck out again by saying "Born This Way" sounds "reductive." This bitch really used the word reductive like she's a spelling bee judge or some shit. Like she was helping Lourdes with some English homework that afternoon and barely learned the word. The way she said it too. Madge said it while smugly patting her smart gene. By the way, "reductive" basically means "simple" in pretentiouscuntanese. Moving on....
Cynthia also brought up the fact Madge's last piece Baby Jesus was only ten seconds out of the manger and her new piece Baby Brahim still has his mother's womb jelly stuck up in his ass crack. Cynthia asked Madge why she's always spreading her cougar coochie on boy toys who haven't yet mastered the art of lifting up the toilet seat before taking a pee pee.
"I didn’t choose to, you know, I didn’t, like, write down on a piece of paper I’m now going to have a relationship with a younger man. That’s just what happened. You see, that’s the romantic in me. I just met someone that I cared for, and this happened to be his age.”
"I didn't choose to"? To quote everybody who stands in front of Kim Kardashian before she opens her mouth to say something: NOW YOU KNOW THAT'S A LIE! After being with a dude (Guy Ritchie) who didn't keep his mouth shut, Madge likes to be the one holding the whip in a relationship and so she chooses fuck pieces who will gladly hand the deed to their ballsacks to her and won't curse back because they can barely speak English! No hate from me. I guess when you're around a bunch of bitches who will do everything you say all day, you just want to go home and surround yourself with a bunch of bitches who will do everything you say all night. Makes sense!
Here's the full interview from Nightline last night and I sort of love that 24-year-old Brahim refuses to massage her centaur hooves. I'm sure Brahim won't make that mistake again after Madge punished him by ordering her henchman to cut off his auntie's feet and deliver them to her on a platter:
And will somebody let Madge know that we already have one Dowager Countess of Grantham and we don't need another, so she can finally quit the Downton Abbey act.
The earthquake in Haiti happened almost two years ago, but the news barely pricked through the bubble out of fame's ass that surrounds Kim Kardoucheian when she needed something quick to cloud her image as a greedy scam artist pig whore with the morals of Satan's pre-cum. Pimp Mama Kris went with Haiti, because it's easy enough for Kim to pronounce and the chewed-up brain in her ass will explode out of her b-hole if she has to say a name that's more than two syllables.
The National Enquirer said in their issue last week that just like Kim's spirit animal Mother Teresa, she and Pimp Mama Kris stayed in a $1,000 a night presidential suite, traveled with personal photographers, wiped their hands with disinfectant jizz every time they shook a Haitian's hand and walked in a local fashion show. Sounds about right. It also sounds about right that after each Haitian shook the hand of those she-devil heffas, they shoved their own hand into an open fire and then punched themselves with a flaming open fist for knowingly touching the claw of a demon.
But Kim is saying that The National Enquirer is spitting out lies. Pimp Mama Kris forced one of the Kuntrashian minions (you know that dumb bitch didn't write this) to jump on Kim's blog (via People) to explain that she was only in Haiti to do serious missionary work and to learn more about Maria Bello's charity:
While my experience was completely life-changing… a very emotional and surprisingly positive journey that I will never forget, some media outlets have tried to tarnish the motive behind my visit and have written completely ridiculous and untrue things. The National Enquirer wrote that I went to a fashion show in Haiti and then spent a fortune pampering myself! The truth is that I was at the Haitian Artisan Fair, where the amazing men and women who make their jewelry and crafts sell them to visitors to make a living, and I bought some of their beautiful jewelry after the fashion show!! Reading this made me so disappointed in the media.
Taking such a positive thing and writing something malicious and untrue. The journalists obviously didn’t bother to do their research and instead published a ridiculous story to sell copies. I have ignored all of this until now, but because I wanted to write a few blogs about my experience, I felt I needed to address this first. I have become accustomed to dealing with rumors and lies spread about my family or my relationships, and have learned to ignore it to a certain extent. But when a magazine makes the decision to twist the truth and write lies like that, it belittles the entire experience we had in Haiti, and I won’t let them do that.
I think it’s important that I share my experiences with you all, rather than you read false reports in the media. I have some really great stories and photos from my trip and I’m so excited to share them with you all! Xo
Oh, yes, Kim. You were only in Haiti on a charity mission (the charity being YOURSELF) and to learn more. I mean, posing for pictures in Haiti is so much harder than posing for pictures on a red carpet in Las Vegas. That's what Princess Diana used to say back in the day, and fuck, she was right. It was also so giving of you to wear 10 pounds of whore paint on your face instead of 20, so you can look really concerned and like one of the people. Such a giving hole (on purpose typo and don't you move it).
The National Enquirer does tell lies from time to time, but I'd believe a fart out of a bull's asshole before I'd believe anything that came out of a Kardashian's mouth. Besides, that priceless "I know this fraudulent cunt is going to try to pass this off as charity work" side-eye the girl in the corner is throwing tells us everything we need to know.
And the person who made that necklace around Kim's neck just earned a special place in my heart. I mean, a necklace that looks like a wooden toilet seat? This is the new portrait of perfect.
Yes, that headline quote is one hundred percent accurate. Tommy Girl cooed out those words after catching his own reflection in Stepford Katie's glazed over eyeballs. You really haven't seen your own reflection until you've seen it in a pair of face globes whose e-meter-induced sparkle hides the pieces of her soul trying to knock their way out of her head.
After days of dragging Suri out for staged photo-ops, Tommy Girl finally had his big premiere in NYC last night for Mission Impossible 4: You Try Getting Suri Into A Pair Of Flats, and he torched the red carpet by working the shit out of that flesh-colored cheek nipple on his face. Tommy didn't only make no-nos pucker by winking at the camera, but he also induced vomiting when he talked about Stepford Katie to People. Tommy said, "Every day I fall more in love with her. It's been quite an amazing five years because of her. She's an incredible woman. She's everything to me."
Tommy laid it on so slimy and thick that if he scooted his Scientolohole across that quote, he wouldn't ever have to reach for a bottle of ass lube again. Bitch's butt cunt would stay forever lubricated. Damn. I know Katie has been an indentured beard and Tommy will have a short (very short, shorter than him) case of the sads when he has to rip her off of his chin after their 10 year contract ends, but "EVERYTHING TO ME"?! Tommy should save those words for the L. Ron Hubbard hologram in his dungeon or his favorite pair of lifts. Not Katie. For shame.
Anyway, here's the whores and bores from last night's premiere. In order: Tommy & Katie, Simon Pegg, Paula Patton with Robin Thicke, Josh Holloway with his wife, Alan Thicke with his wife and Jeremy Renner.
AssStain Kutcher is barebacking his way through the cream of Iowa's whore crop, but Demi Moore is the one who's winning the rebound game by getting glitter bombed every single night. What you're looking at is not only what you get when you morph Donny Osmond, Eric McMormick and Sal from Mad Men together. This is also the gaydar-breaking beauty who is leaving a thin layer of juicy fruit nectar on Demi's lips when he blows her an air kiss after each date.
Radar is trying to say that Demi has been dating beauty mogul (FYI: beauty moguls don't only exist in soap operas and late-80s movies) Scott-Vincent Borba for about a week now. So when Demi tells her friends that Scott gave her a hot facial last night, she really means that he scrubbed her dead skin off with honeycomb bits and lavendar-scented sea salt. (Although, I wouldn't be surprised if Scott-Vincent cums honeycomb bits and lavendar-scented sea salt.) Radar's source had this to say about Demi's new "romance":
“Demi and Scott-Vincent started dating last week. They have known each other a long time and he’s really been there for her by her side through the whole Ashton thing. It’s easy for Scott-Vincent to keep his relationships a secret because he’s so often photographed hanging out with celebrity clientele. But he’s head over heels for Demi and there’s definitely potential for a lasting relationship between them.”
Getting with an immaculately groomed gaydonis whose sugar walls are sweeter than theirs didn't work for Star Jones and Liza Minnelli, but that doesn't mean it can't work for Demi. I've always believed that somewhere over the rainbow, a cougar's true soulmate awaits.
I, for one, am dripping with jealousy. Scott-Vincent's eyebrows are so exquisitely beautiful that it's a shame they don't wiggle around like a tongue, because it would be nice to get some reciprocation when you make out with them. Not only that, but Demi gets to slip into a warm dream fantasy after Scott-Vincent serenades her with this at bedtime:
In case you haven't already figured it out, that tingly sensation you're feeling down below is just your b-hole winking at this video.
Pimp Mama Kris has gone too far this time in her campaign to paint Kris Humphries as an evil monstrous cunt oaf who stomped all over Kim's fairytale dreams. This cover of Star Magazine, obviously curated by Kris Jenner, is offensive, wrong, inhumane, illegal, goes against everything I believe in and should be reported to the proper authorities. I mean, when I saw this mess of a cover the first thing that came to my mind was that Dynasty storyline about Steve Carrington coming out of the closet after marrying Sammy Jo. The Kardashians and the Church of Dynasty are not supposed to touch in my head. That's like Lucifer walking hand-in-hand with Jesus. That's like serving me a plate of dog shit and Velveeta Shells & Cheese (aka the caviar of processed cheese meals). Pimp Mama Kris' suite in hell better be downgraded to an economy room for this. Too low, too low.
Anyway, sources tell Star that Kim thinks that Kris might love dick, because after they got married he didn't want to fuck her and only wanted to watch sports. Kim might have a point, because I don't know many straight dudes who can calmly sit in front of a TV all day watching a bunch athletes who have pissed on and fucked his wife several times. Moving on....
TMZ reports Kris is fighting back against the four-headed Kuntrashian monster by filing to annul his ten-second marriage to Kim on the grounds that she defrauded him into playing her fake groom. Kris believes that Kim only married him for the advertising money and attention while he did it for love. Kris wants Kim to pay his lawyer's fees. But wait. A source close to Kim (read: KRIS JENNER) says the marriage was also real to her and she only filed for divorce, because she was told she can only annul a marriage if there's proof of impotency, incest, bigamy, unsound mind, force or fraud.
I realize that Kris is a neanderthal who was recently discovered frozen in a block of ice and then was brought back to the living by scientists, but is he really that slow in the brains? Accusing Kim Kardashian of being a fraud is like accusing me of being a dumb slut. We already know. If you Google "Kim Kardashian is a fraud" it takes you to DUH.com. Kris was obviously in on the sham marriage and he's totally in on the sham divorce. Kris is a fraud. Kim is a fraud. They're all frauds and they've obviously ruined our beliefs in true love and the realness of reality TV. Let's all sue them for fraud. Call Gloria Allred!