It's Not Easy Being A Cunt
Remember how American figure skater Evan Licecheck won Olympic gold over Russia's Evgeni Plushenko? Remember how Plushie kicked Licecheck in the crotch bone by saying that only real gold medal champions do quad jumps? Remember all that? Well, it's getting better!
Plushie still refuses to accept that a silver medal is hanging around his neck. Plushie's ego magically gave birth to something called a platinum medal! Over on Plushie's official website, it shows that he won a silver in Salt Lake (true), a gold in Torino (again, true), and a platinum in Vancouver. HA! Platinum kills gold every time, so the joke is on Licecheck! Plushie REALLY showed him.
All jokes aside, Plushie is telling the truth. Plushie is the 2010 Olympic platinum medal champion in Cuntness. Raise Russia's flag and bow down!
Johnny Weir's arch rival Evan Lysacek (that's Licecheck if you wiggle for Weir) snatched the Ice King crown from former reigning Olympic champion Evgeni Plushenko last night. American Licecheck took gold, Russian Plushie took silver and the Japanese doll with the exquisite eyebrows known as Daisuke Takahashi took bronze. Johnny Weir took shit (aka 6th place). First, let's queef about Johnny.
To my amateur eyes, Johnny skated almost perfectly, as though he was gliding along the luscious mane of a silver unicorn. When he flailed his arms, the starts twinkled. When he landed his jumps, Lady CaCa's ass lips puckered. When the crystal enchantress of the ice twirled, Peta kicked a kitten. It was beautiful....but the judges did not co-sign this. The audience booed at his scores, and just when I was about to BOOOOO my figure skating obsessed friend (bitch even has a Torvill & Dean IM icon) checked me. According to that know-it-all bitch slut ho, even though Johnny has the gracefulness of a swan curtsying before the queen in the middle of a Spaghetti Factory (that shit is nice), his jumps just aren't as complicated as the other skaters. So the best Johnny could hope for was bronze. Way to break my boner.
As for Licecheck, while watching him masturbating his chest all over the ice, I thought to myself, "Tilda Swinton should wear that snake onesie as a gown to the Oscars. Actually, Evan should wear that onesie as a gown to the Oscars." And I bet he wears a maxi-pad on his pits, because dude sweats like Kirstie Alley when she hears the words, "We're out of donuts." Seriously, I thought the hot grease streaming out of his pores was going to melt the ice and turn that figure skating competition into a synchronized swimming competition. And Evan still would've won, because let's face it, the evil queen is good (that hurts).
Now for Plushenko! Wasn't that bitch mad?! HA! Plushie was throwing cuntfaces left and right during the medal ceremony. At one point, I thought he was going to leap towards the American flag and tear it to pieces with his bare teeth! Plushie did show his teeth backstage when he punched Evan in the crotch bone with his words. Plushie thinks he should've gotten the gold, because he did a quad and Evan did not. Plushie said, "It's not men's figure skating. Now, it's dancing."
Wow. Why haven't we been introduced, Plushie? Come sit next to me, I like the way you enunciate your cuntiness.
Oasis' "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?" was named the best album of the past 30 years (Samantha Fox was ROBBED) at the Brit Awards last night, and Liam Gallagher accepted the award on behalf of the now dead band.
Liam is a founding member of the UK chapter of The Big Cunt Club, so of course he acted like a total twat during his speech. After Liam quickly did the Lohan swipe to his nose, he thanked everyone but his brother Noel. Liam then tossed his mic into the audience and followed that up by throwing the award into the audience too. Since he was in the tossing mood, Liam should've pulled the cunt stick out of his asshole and tossed that into the audience as well. No, I don't mean that. Liam's cunt theatrics make my world go 'round. Clip below:
And I do fully respect Liam's "knob head" behavior, but that hair makes him look like a lesbian gym teacher who has a weird fascination with Florence Henderson.
Heather Mills has confessed that she's pretty much blown through her £24.3 million divorce settlement from Paul McCartney in less than two years. As soon as the money dropped into her checking account, Heather said she immediately handed it over to various charities. You know, because she's like the Robin Hood of gold digging whores.
Heather said on a show called Shrink Rap (via DS), "Most of it's been given to charity, gone into ethical businesses or paid for a couple of properties for my daughter's future security. I could never sit with millions of pounds in the bank that could make matters change."
That quote right there should cause Paul McCartney to legally change his name, buy a new social security number online, move to the Artic and keep all of his money in a box made out of bloody beef steaks, because Heather is hopping back for more. It's only a matter of time before she drags Paul back to court to drop another glass of water on his lawyer's head and collect another bag of money.
Shortly after the news of Alexander McQueen's death broke, every celebrity with a Twitter account or publicist had something to say. The BBC compiled them all on one page, but let me shine a spotlight on Kunty Karl Lagerfeld's statement:
"I found his work very interesting and never banal. There was always some attraction to death, his designs were sometimes dehumanized. Who knows, perhaps after flirting with death too often, death attracts you."
WHAT DOES THIS MEEEEAN?! I never know whether Karl is talking from the bottom of his decrepit zombie heart organ, or if he's serving up another piping hot bowl of cuntness with a badly-whipped dollop of bitchery on top. I'm afraid that if that quote starts to make sense to me, my soul will forever belong to Karl. So I'll keep throwing him a side-eye.
And since we're all in a side-eye throwing mood, here's what Kirstie Alley had to say. She seems to think that Alexander McQueen just went to the corner store to pick up some donuts (she's always thinking about donuts):
The crystal enchantress of the ice, Johnny Weir, isn't shy about how he loves to drape his naked body in fur and re-enact scenes from Dr. Zhivago (at least that's what I picture him doing). Even one of Johnny's costumes has the pubic bush of a fox on its shoulder. This made several animal rights groups aim their paint guns at Johnny, but he wouldn't back down. Johnny responded to them with this:
"I totally get the dirtiness of the fur industry and how terrible it is to animals. But it's not something that's the No. 1 priority in my life. There are humans dying everyday. There are thousands if not millions of homeless people in New York City. Look at what just happened in Haiti. I tend to focus my energy, if there is a cause, on humans. While that may be callous and bad of me, it's my choice.
Every skater is wearing skates made out of cow. Maybe I'm wearing a cute little fox while everyone else is wearing cow, but we're all still wearing animals."
And when Johnny puffed his nipples at the animal rights groups, they puffed right back. Apparently, they threatened to bring the crazy to Vancouver and ruin one of his Olympic performances. So in order to avoid being the target of a red paint bukkake while on the ice, Johnny is changing the fur to the fake stuff.
Johnny slowly slipped off his fur-lined leather glove finger by finger, and slappity slapped the animal rights groups in the face with this cunty statement:
"I would like to announce that due to pressures and threats from a certain animal rights group, I will be changing the genuine fox fur on my free program costume that I will use in the 2010 Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver, B.C., to white faux fur. I made this decision after several threats were sent to me about disrupting my performance in the Olympic Games and my costume designer, Stephanie Handler, was repeatedly sent messages of hate and disgust. I do not want something as silly as my costume disrupting my second Olympic experience and my chance at a medal, a dream I have had since I was a kid. I hope these activists can understand that my decision to change my costume is in no way a victory for them, but a draw. I am not changing in order to appease them, but to protect my integrity and the integrity of the Olympic Games as well as my fellow competitors.
Just weeks away from hitting my starting position on the ice in Vancouver, I have technique and training to worry about and that trumps any costume and any threat I may receive."
Something tells me that Johnny really is going to have the last queef by wearing a white fox thong underneath his costume.
The producers of American Idol might be freebasing a mysterious powdery substance left in Paula Abdul's dressing room, because TMZ says they are actively trying to find a replacement for Simon Cowell. And a source says that word on the set is that Elton John is a front-runner for the position. Elton has been a guest judge on Idol before. Elton's spokesbitch wouldn't say shit about this rumor.
Simon Cowell is the truth teller of Idol! Ellen Degeneres is there to tell jokes. Randy Jackson is there to keep the Kraft Services staff company. Kara DioSHUTTHEFUCKUP was planted there by the pharmaceutical companies so millions would pop anti-anxiety meds every minute just to deal with her annoying ass. And Simon is there to bring the truth in the truthiest way possible.
So while I know Elton is clearly capable of bombing the dreams of young singers with his words of bitchery, I still think Simon is irreplaceable. And yes, I too read the word "irreplaceable" in Beyonce's singing voice. Look at what poop culture has done to us.
Personally, I think Simon should drag Elton John and Paula Abdul to the judge's table on X-Factor. Two cunts and a crazy is the formula for an instant success!
Fresh off her role as a child-hating airplane goddess, Ivana Trump sashayed into the Celebrity Big Brother house last night to inject some much needed glamor into that joint. However, Ivana didn't go into the house without the producers agreeing to a few of her conditions. Ivana demanded that a mosquito net be put around her bed, because she claims flies give her the scared shakes and they don't back down when she call them "little fuckers."
This is the part of the post where I joke about how flies only love Ivana's face because it looks like a mound of butt gravy on the sidewalk that has developed a soft crust from being exposed to the winter sun.
But a source tells The Sun that Ivana's phobia of flies has nothing to do with why she requested the mosquito net. Apparently, Ivana wants some privacy in the morning for when she needs to decorate her face with 10 pounds of paint. The source explained, "Ivana has been saying she is petrified of flies so needs the net, but we told her this is Elstree in January not the Caribbean The real reason is she wants some time in the mornings to put her make-up on before she faces the cameras."
Jokes aside, the hard truth is that Ivana is only trying to protect the camera lenses and mortal eyes. If her natural beauty was exposed, the walls would collapse, lenses would shatter into a million pieces and retinas would singe. Ivana only wears make-up to protect the world from her organic gorgeousness. This is my explanation and I'm sticking to it, because I really don't want Ivana yelling at me if we're ever on the same flight.
How many times have you been on a plane where someone's brat child fucks with your soul by screaming at the top of their lungs while running through the aisles like a hyena on meth? This is exactly why all planes should have open bars and pharmacies that don't require a prescription. If airlines passed out Valium instead of peanuts, Ivana Trump might not have been escorted off of a plane for launching a flurry of fuck words at screaming children and the flight attendants.
The Orlando Sentinel reports that Ivana Trump, who was seated in first class, went off at some children for running through the aisles while they were waiting to depart from Palm Beach, FL. A flight attendant tried to fix the situation by offering Ivana a different seat and some headphones. Ivana refused and became even more cunty. Ivana called the children "little fuckers" and told everyone around her to "fuck off." The Delta plane, which was bound for NYC, was forced to return to the terminal.
When they got to the terminal, a few deputies boarded the plane and asked Cruella de Trump to get off. After Ivana gifted the deputies with a few more Dlisted-approved words, they escorted her off. Ivana was not arrested and she won't be charged for her acts of cuntery.
What I want to know is why were the children running around the plane if they were about to take off? On every flight I've been on the flight attendants practically tie your ass into your seat Joan Crawford-style when you're taxing to the runway. And those little devils were allowed to party on down in the aisles? Jail their parents! Seriously, where the hell was Officer Dustin Bradshaw and his taser gun when Ivana really needed him?
Although, to be fair to the children, they were probably only screaming and running through the aisles because they got a good look at Ivana's face.
Gangsta bitch Martha Stewart sugar coats a lot of shit, but her opinion is not one of them. The other night, a reporter asked the cuntress of crafts her thought on Sarah Palin's book, etc.... Martha shanked Sarah with her words by calling her "dangerous," "boring," and "a problem." Martha also basically said that she would rather eat a TV dinner on a Styrofoam plate than even glance at Sarah's book. Martha is straight-up!
Martha's bitchy words on Palin comes on the heels of her saying that Rachael Ray is not a cook. Will somebody please ask Martha her thoughts on drunk ass Sandra Lee! My cunt gene is tingling just thinking about.
And in case you missed this last night, here's SNL's trailer for Palin 2012. Palin/Beck 2012!