Programming Note

No, one of them is not Mimi. Although.... if you down an entire bottle of cotton candy vodka and chase it with a bottle of bubbles before beating yourself in the head with a plastic unicorn horn, J. Harvey does sort of look like Mimi in the right light.

Mimi is spreading the holiday cheese in Aspen by posing like this and that means it's Christmas times again. In my family, we don't give each other gifts, because we're all really lazy and shopping takes effort. So instead of doing that, we go on trips together during the holidays and give each other the priceless gift of verbally judging each other's life choices while sitting in the middle of a hotel restaurant. This year, we're going to my mom's timeshare in Hawaii and I know it's going to be weird, because timeshare people are the weirdest.

So since I'll be busy hopping to other timeshares to sit through a 6 hour-long presentation for a free breakfast (a $12 value!), Dlisted's resident guest bloggers Sweetas, J. Harvey and Lahoma will be helping me out. Starting on Sunday, Lahoma will take over Hot Slut of the Day and Sweetas, J. Harvey and I will post throughout the day. There won't be any Caption This contests during that time. I'll be back full-time on January 3rd.

And I promise that while I'm in Hawaii, I'll keep the jokes about getting lei'd to a minimum. Probably not.

Today is the day I say goodbye to the bodega bitch who always calls me "ma'm" (Not even "miss!" That burns.) and to the family of crackheads who always hang at my old subway stop and once called me a "cheap fag" for giving them a dollar. I will miss them all! So I'm moving out of Brooklyn and making my way back to the land of Angelyne, smog and jorts with UGGs today. I have to stop in Michigan first, because it's always been one of my life goals to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. No, I'm going for family shit... and to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. I'll be in Michigan until Sunday, so now all you Angelen-hos know in advance that a stage 1 trash alert will be issued when my stank ass lands.

Because I'll be busy getting drunk on Hopslam in Michigan and trying to get a car in L.A. (please tell me they still sell Pintos), one of my partners in spreading fuckery, Sweetas, is going to guest blog and help me out until Monday. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday after I wake up from my Hopslam and In-N-Out coma.

And moving would be so much better if I could just throw all my stuff on Liev Schreiber's front box and then jump on that child seat behind him. Take me to the Double Double, Liev!

You're probably reading these words while pulling your panties up and wiping your musky down low parts with the bottom of your shirt. Because as soon as the head picture for this post came up, you immediately rubbed your genitals on your computer monitor until you almost got electrocuted. The word "fuck" written with a Sharpie on Marilyn Manson's mouth compelled you to do so. You actually shouldn't be reading this right now, because you should be down at the free clinic (FYI: They open at 10am on the weekends) getting treated for ink poisoning and a new kind of gonorrhea that is only transmitted through pixels.

Marilyn Manson, who looks like he just ate the dreams of a thousand obese children, shuffled through LAX yesterday with his piece Lindsay Usich and he threatened all the paps with a good time by scribbling the words "fuck you" on his mound of flour-dusted pie dough face. Lindsay Lohan is so going to sue his powdery ass for copyright infringement. In case you're wondering, the words "fuck you" written in marker on a face translates into "look at me looook at me oh god look at me fuck me with your attention please just loooook at me" in real talk.

And on that note, I'm taking another quick trip this summer and might not be around as much for the next few days. While I'm off suckling on a 12 oz. Corona on top of a hotel room bedspread as I suction my brain to non-stop Olympic coverage, my partners in blog foolery, J. Harvey and Sweetas (THE RETURN OF SWEETAS!!!) will be here planting seeds of fuckery. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday if I don't get arrested at JFK's TSA checkpoint for committing acts of buffoonery by getting make-up ideas from Marilyn Manson and scribbling the words "fuck you" on my face (it's tempting). They have WiFi at Gitmo, right?

And now thanks to these pictures of panty cream-inducer Mickey Rourke drunk sashaying out of a club in London the other night, you will be having the pastrami hash with a side of burnt canned tomatoes for brunch. You can always count on Mickey to show you that beauty is a half-melted, inside/out Michael Myers mask. On that note, my ass is going away this weekend (and no, I'm not going to weekend jail for my crimes against grammar.... that's next week) and while I'm away, drunk bitch extraordinary J. Harvey will be filling in the fuckery for me today and tomorrow.

I'm still doing Birthday and Hot Sluts and I might post a tiny bit here and there. I shifted the word "might" to the right by italicizing that shit, because it'll be hard trying to blog about dumb bitches while guzzling on a can of Corona (yes, I said "CAN") in the lukewarm and possibly piss-infused jacuzzi of a moderately priced hotel. I'll be back full-time on Monday. For now, I leave you with these images from the beauty gods of Mickey Rourke. Frolic through his tortured, battle line hairline.

Because getting two teeth pulled out of my skull a few days ago wasn't enough, I'm going in for more dental work in a quick minute. My dentist says this work is going to take a long ass while, because my mouth is a mess. ("You need to stop brushing with dirty dicks." - you "I wish" - me) Since we're on the topic of messes, while I stare deep into the nostrils of a dentist, J. Harvey will fill in for me this afternoon by posting a couple or 3 posts. I'll be back later to do Crumbs. And then after I do Crumbs, I'm going to reenact the "I'll nevah let go!" scene from Titanic with my bong and a bottle of booze, because I've been told to stay away from smoking and drinking. My dentist hates me so and has a good way of showing it.

And here's Josh Hopkins from Cougartown and James Marsden sunning their man pecs in Hawaii. I don't know if they're on the same beach, but I do know that they need to touch nipples in front of a camera at some point during their vacation.

It's just a nipple and I hate blurring one, but I really don't want read an email today that says: "I WAS FIRED FOR HAVING RIRI'S LACE-COVERED ALIEN NIP ON MY SCREEN!" So I blurred her nip out on the top pic. This pic will also be on top for a while, because for the next few hours I'll be lying on my back with my mouth wide open ("And this is new news to us how?" - you). Today is the official coming out party for my remaining wisdom teeth (or as my dentist calls them, your "notasdumbastheotherones" teeth). FUN! Here's hoping they all come out intact, because I really want to make nipple rings out of them.

My dentist says that my wisdom teeth have pretty much busted through my gums already, so it shouldn't be that hard or painful to yank them out. Afterward, he'll pop a Vicodin in my mouth hole and I'll be back on Dlisted. I never make sense to sober brains, so maybe the afternoon delight Vicodin pill will kick something in my brain and I'll start making sense (but probably not).

For now, I leave you with these pictures of RiRi doing the walk of no shame in NYC yesterday while dressed like a lot lizard on a Salvation Army budget. I like how the look on the lady on the right's face is saying, "Bitch, your nipples look like they're on a seesaw. Fix them before putting them on display!" She speaks for all of us.

Since J. Harvey is a certified drunk mess, I felt it was only fitting to announce his triumphant return with these pictures of Our Patron Saint of Patron, Kate Moss, trying to figure out how "this walking thing" works while leaving a Mexican restaurant in London with her husband Count Von Count last night. But before I get into Drunk Ass Kate being Drunk Ass Kate....

One of the more reliable voices in my head tells me that the sanctity of marriage will receive a flaming breath of life this weekend when the most gorgeous ginger lesbian on every planet Rojo Caliente marries Cynthia Nixon. So because of this, I'm going to spend my entire Memorial Day Weekend throwing confetti made of double pleated Dockers in the streets to celebrate the greatest ROYAL GINGER LESBIAN WEDDING OF OUR TIME! No, I won't be doing that, but I did hear that a Rojo Caliente wedding might be upon us soon, so gird your souls! My mom is in town, so my sister and I will be spending our Memorial Day Weekend fighting with each other in various restaurants around the city. While I do that, J. Harvey will be spreading the foolery on Dlisted starting today through Monday. I'll still be posting sporadically (file that under: smart words I learned while watching Clueless) throughout the weekend, so you haven't completely gotten rid of me. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday where we'll continue to investigate the mysteries of dick cheese, etc...

And now, here's Kate Moss threatening all of us with a good time by leaving her fly open while leaving that Mexican restaurant. I don't know if that peep show sign is just a decoration to make that place look edgy or if there's a porn store next door, but I sort of like the idea of a Mexican restaurant/sex store. Yes, it would smell like a donkey show star's fart, but I've smelled worse in the subway during August. I mean, when you're jacking off in a sex store, don't you really wish that you had a bowl of refried beans in your other hand? Hold the queso blanco.

Before I get into these pictures of Prince Hot Ginge and some girl giving us the drunk trash version of Romeo & Juliet, I have some quick site news. J. Harvey, who with Sweetas guest blogged on Dlisted during Christmastimes while I was busy dining at the finest Olive Gardens in Rome, is helping me out until Monday so that I can dine at the finest Olive Gardens in California. It's my last weekend in California with my mom and we're going to party hard (aka get drunk on grocery store wine under an umbrella in the backyard after going to Trader Joe's for a full lunch of free samples).

J. Harvey was nice enough to take time out from weeping on the curb in front of a Boston gay bar after getting kicked out for eating all the toppings on the complimentary baked potato bar (not a euphemism). My ass is still going to post regularly every day, but J. Harvey will be here to lighten the load (not like that). I'll be back full-time on Tuesday and then I'll be back in NYC on Saturday, so every whore in Brooklyn should enjoy the skank-free air while they still can. Now on to PHG....

PHG partied at the Brompton Club in London last night and the paparazzi held on to the roof gutters to get a picture of him talking to some drunk ass tramp in a dirty alley. PHG sure has a thing for those stringy ass blondes who look like they can't handle their booze. How does this happen, though? If it only takes a hot fag to get PHG into a stank alley, then light me on fire and kick me between two buildings.

The Christmas angels in Chicago have given the Internet a holiday miracle this year and that miracle is called Jan Terri's comeback! YAASSS! When you first walk through the broken gates of the Internet, you immediately see a welcome sign with Jan Terri's "Losing You" video on it. Jan Terri is the soundtrack of our Internet lives. And after years of praying for her return, she is back with the perfect holiday song for you to sing to yourself while you're three Lohans to the wind and locked in the bathroom to get away from your family. I'll hum this song while cutting into a piece of holiday tiramisu at an Olive Garden in Rome. They have Olive Garden in Italy, right?

This year, my family decided to skip the giving presents shit and instead we're really getting neck deep into the holiday spirit by torturing and annoying each other while traveling all around Italy for a week. I've already come up with a drinking game. Every time my sister asks if they have any gluten-free pasta, I'll shoot myself. No, she's not going to ask that, because she's bringing her own (no joke). Anyway, I will still blog something every day, but while I'm seeing all the beautiful sights of Italy (examples: the alley way where Snooki passed out, the STD clinic built in The Situation's name) seasoned Dlisted guest blogger Sweetas and J. Harvey, formerly of Socialite Life and currently of Manhunt Daily, will be filling in the fuckery for me. Sweetas will continue to write all the Charlize Theron fanfic you need and J. Harvey will fill the quota for b-hole jokes. Also, my friend Lahoma will be covering most of the Hot Sluts. Lahoma used to write for Dlisted back in the olden days when I was on Blogspot and he's the one who came up with Hot Slut of the Day, so he's the perfect piece of trash for the job.

Dlisted will return to its normally scheduled foolery on January 3rd.

And now I have to go and practice how to say "Oh no, officer, that's just American oregano for my allergies..." in Italian. Merry Rojo Calientemas!

(Jan Terri's Return via TGBHH)

Programming Note: This will probably be my last post of the day, because I'm flying to California in a few hours to do some Driving Miss Daisy shit. My mom had shoulder surgery and can't operate a motor vehicle (OR SO SHE SAYS) so I have to chauffeur her around while she yells at me to not drive so fast and to count to 5 at every stop sign before hitting the gas. I'll be doing this for the next 3 weeks. Fun!

My flight isn't until tonight, but I'm leaving early since I've been told that the highways are full of Apocalypse-ready hos marching towards the safe lands. I know, perfect timing, especially since my apartment is in a mandatory evacuation zone. I'm not even trying to board shit. I'm taking my dog, the only t-shirt I wear and saying a prayer that Irene doesn't break my favorite new bong. But anyway, fuck that bitch Irene, In-N-Out here I come! Now on to crumbs....

Andrew Garfield is so the Anne Archer to Jim Carrey's Glenn Close - Lainey Gossip

If Brit Brit was our history teacher, we'd all get As, because ho doesn't know which letters come after that - The Superficial

Team Orange Flowers - Towleroad

Lacey Schwimmer or Brooke Hogan in a fun house mirror? - Hollywood Tuna

White Oprah's sumptuous skin looks like old coke marinating in kitchen grease - (site NSFW) Drunken Stepfather

Beyonce's new video looks like a commercial for House of Derriere's new line of glitter lube - Celebitchy

Justin Theroux is putting Sugar Mama Aniston's credit card to good use - Just Jared

Are you happy to see me or is that just an AAAAAAAAAAHHHH THAT'S A FUCKING SNAKE YOU CRAZY BITCH! - The Daily What

Man Down Code 10: Posh in flats - Popsugar

Peter Facinelli should always look like this - ICYDK

I'll say it, KAT FIGHT! - Crunk + Disorderly

Knocked up Duff, take 1 - Popoholic

Knocked up Duff, take 2 - Hollywood Rag

Did Cee Lo explode on a solid gold disco ball or did a solid gold disco ball explode on Cee Lo? - Moe Jackson

RiRi's new video sponsored by a Flip camera with no flash - The Berry

Pussy hole - Cityrag

(Image Source: instagr.am via Buzzfeed)