My Hero

While millions of abuelitas replace the velvet painting of Pope Eggs Benedict hanging over their toilet with a velvet painting of Pope Francis the Fist, all of us should be worshiping a true leader and beacon of hope: Elin Nordegren. Let out the gold smoke, because the Pope of gold diggers has been found. Get on your knee and pray, Heather Mills.

After Elin got over $100 million from Tiger Woods in a divorce settlement, she started bumping genitals with the son of a billionaire tycoon for a little bit and then she supposedly got back with Tiger Woods. The rumor was that Tiger wanted to marry her again and was going to put an anti-cheating clause in their prenup, which would've given her $350 million if he passed his peen to another Waffle House waitress. But I guess Elin decided that $350 million is chump change and she better reach higher if she wants to be the Patron Saint of Gold Diggers. Enter, Elin's billionaire neighbor Chris Cline (not to be confused with the mess from American Pie.)

Page Six is saying that 33-year-old Elin has been dating 53-year-old billionaire Chris Cline since December. Chris has a mansion in the Seminole Landing area of North Palm Beach in Florida and Elin's currently building a mansion there. Chris Cline is originally from West Virginia, has been married twice, has four kids and made his $1.2 billion fortune in the coal mining business. His company, Foresight Energy, is headquartered Palm Beach.

Get it, Elin! Look at Chris Cline, he looks like pure money. I bet his pubes smell like mahogany, Italian leather and hundred dollar bills. If the luxury package on a Cadillac was turned into a human, it would look like Chris Cline. If they made a movie about Chris Cline's life, Powers Boothe would play him. You know you're really rich when Powers Boothe plays you in a movie, because Powers Boothe barely ever plays poor people. I swear, Elin's life is like an episode of Dallas.

And try not to look surprised when Chris Cline's golf game improves by 5000% thanks to Elin's lucky charm vagine.

This clip from a local news station in Portland starring one of Oregon's crown jewels and my idol of the night will make your brain burp up a million question marks. The local news interviewed her about blown out windows, or something, and then that leads to her talking about how the vacuum cleaner man saw her tits and how she hasn't been allowed to drive for the past 3 years. So many questions!

Who is that vacuum cleaner man? Is that code for something, because I didn't think vacuum cleaner men existed anymore? Does the vacuum cleaner man now have marbles in his sockets, because he was so overcome with excitement from seeing ole' girl's tits that he took a Kirby hose to his eyeballs? Why isn't she allowed to drive? Does it have anything to do with her showing the vacuum cleaner man her tits? Is her sweater made of Fraggle pubes? Questions: a lot of them!

But I don't need the answer to any of those questions. It doesn't matter. I still love her no matter what. I just want to move to Portland and drive her around so she can show me all the people she's flashed her tits at.

via Mashable

Remember that one episode of Beverly Hills 90210 where that smug, know-it-all hater Andrea Zuckerman doubted Brenda Walsh's intentions when she said she was sick of shopping all the time and wanted to do something meaningful like volunteer at the teen crisis hotline? Andrea, who was like a teen crisis hotline leader or something, trained Brenda, but thought she was in it for the wrong reasons. Then Andrea had to eat it hard when Brenda came to the rescue of a rape victim and got the girl's rapist arrested. Well, Andrea better put her dentures in, because she's going to have to eat it again. Brenda Walsh has rescued another!

TMZ says that on Sunday night, one of Shannen Doherty's fans threatened to end it all if she didn't call them. (Fact: The fan wasn't me, believe it or not.) It all started when a fan started sending Shannen several tweets including one where she said she was going to shoot herself dead if Brenda Walsh didn't call her. Using the skills she learned at the teen crisis hotline center, Shannen found out that the girl lives in New Jersey and was able to get her home address. Shannen immediately called the Westampton Police Department and reported the suicide threat. The police paid a visit to the 27-year-old woman's house. The woman and her family both told police that she's not suicidal. After talking to her family, the police determined she wasn't going to hurt herself.

In short: BRENDA WALSH SAVES LIVES!!!!

What can't Brenda Walsh do? ("Well for one thing, the bitch can't keep a man." - that home wrecking slut Kelly Taylor)

The government should do what's right and give Shannen Doherty the highest medal of courage. Shannen can put the medal on her mantel and it will look beautiful next to her Dean's List certificate from Education Connection.

How do I hire Little Abby as my official voice on all things political (shit, on all things in general), because she is reading my mind..... and we have the same fashion sense.

via JMG & NPR

Gene Hackman is 82-years-old and he's proving that you're never too old to whoop a homeless trick down for calling your wife a cunt. TMZ says that a bitchified hobo named Bruce Becker came at Pepaw Gene and his wife Betsy Arakawa as the two left a restaurant in Santa Fe, New Mexico on Tuesday. TMZ doesn't say exactly how the hobo came at Gene, but the hobo learned that when you come at a pepaw for whatever reason, you will end up with a face full of his slappin' hand.

After Bruce started shit with Gene, they both yelled at each other and the hobo took it to a new level by throwing the cunt word at Betsy. As soon as that word leaped off of Bruce's tongue, the band stopped playing, the sun hid behind the clouds, tumbleweeds got out of the way, children ran inside, birds shut their mouths and the dust hitched a ride out of there on a sliver of wind. Nobody wanted to be around when shit got serious. Gene slapped Bruce right in the face. Bruce called the cops, but nobody got put into cuffs, because the police officer said Gene slapped Bruce out of self-defense.

I don't even know Betsy Arakawa, but I'd still get all Peter Cetera on a bitch for screwing with her wrong. A woman whose floss thin brows match the arch of her hairline deserves to be defended at all costs.

Most of the time children are like your mega drunk friend at the club: You have to carry them around everywhere, you don't know what the hell they're saying, you have to hold up their hair as they puke into the toilet, they're always asking you for a mint or candy and they fall asleep while you're talking to them. What I'm saying is that most of the time children are seriously annoying and get in the way of you freely boozing away. But sometimes, children are geniuses and made of magic. Case in point: the little girl in the clip above (via Buzzfeed).

The Middleton Family is like the Party City of Britain, or something, so Pippa Middleton knows all about party planning and she put it all into a book. You'd think that Pippa would only have to promote her book buy writing the words "BUY ME BOOK" on her ass since that's really the only thing photographers take a picture of, but she actually has to hustle that shit in book stores too. Pippa hosted a Halloween party with a bunch of kids in a book store and asked them what they like. One girl said that she's a tomboy and Pippa said that she bets she'll be into princesses and pink crap by the time she's 10. That's when our hero of the day said to Pippa, "I hate princesses."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Replace those horns with a halo, because that child is an angel of wisdom. I don't even care that homegirl said she's into vampires, which means that she's Twihard. I just love that she almost melted the orange off of Pippa's face by saying that she hates Pippa's sister. Fighting words!

Morrissey hates everything, but I can guarantee you that today, he loves this adorable princess-hater.

I see you cursing the wind for disappointing you by not pushing Vanessa Bryant into that pool. The wind obviously loves gold diggers. Too bad for you!

Vanessa Laine Bryant was put in the shade the other day when she told New York Magazine that she wouldn't be married to a dude who doesn't win championships and if her man slut husband Kobe Bryant is going to be away from his family all the time, she expects him to bring home a championship every single year. But now Vanessa has jumped on her gold-plated Rolls Royce edition Big Wheel and is backpedaling away from that statement. Vanessa tells TMZ that everyone is twisting her words the same way a plastic surgeon twisted her original nose. If Kobe only brought home a sad face from losing all the time, she'd still stay married to him.

"I'm sad to hear that comments in my New York Magazine interview are being misconstrued and taken out of context. I have and will continue to support my husband’s dreams. I have been with Kobe for 13 years. I accepted his marriage proposal PRIOR to him winning any of his 5 championships with his teammates. For anyone to think otherwise is wrong. It is not about being married to a ‘winner’ it is about our sacrifice as a family. “

I really do love Vanessa Bryant more than Vanessa Bryant loves money. There she is, pretty much saying that she got with Kobe when he was nothing when everyone knew at the time that he was on his way to becoming a millionaire champion. Eventually (when he stops bringing home bonus checks), Vanessa will divorce Kobe's cheating skank ass and when she does, she deserves every penny and more for playing the game flawlessly. Never give up the secrets to your success and never tell anyone that the sparkle from a championship ring temporarily masks the scent of side piece pussy wafting off of your husband's crotch.

Kobe should be the one bragging about being married to a champion. A champion gold digger that is!

New York Magazine's The Cut has an entire article on the NBA's most fashionable wives and it's basically just a platform for a bunch of gold-plated hos to fart drop the names on all the labels on all the designer clothes hanging in a closet that is twice the size of my apartment. It's just the 1% reminding us poors that their queefs are made by the same perfumers who make  Chanel No. 5. But what's extra special about this article is that they talk to one of my personal heroes and gold digging icons Vanessa Bryant, seen above looking Kuntrashian-like while posing with her dog Gucci. Bitch WOULD have a dog named Gucci.

The Cut tells us that Kobe Bryant's wife prefers to keep her personal life personal and she'd rather hump on her 8.5 carat diamond ring than hump on fame. Even though Vanessa hates the spotlight since the spotlight dries out the skin she slathers blended fetus cream on every night, she will lend her ultra famous name to foundations she cares about. (Example: During Kobe's latest cheating scandal, Vanessa leaked stories to the press to benefit her #GetMoneyBitch Foundation. So giving.)

Vanessa talks about Khloe Kardashian, her marriage and how she'd never be married to Kobe if he didn't win championships. Such a role model to me:

On how Birkin bags are for kids: “I’ve collected Birkin bags, Chanel 2.55 jumbo flap bags, and the Marc Jacobs Stephen Sprouse collection for Louis Vuitton since I was a teenager. But now, as they say, everyone and their mom is buying a Birkin or a regular size 2.55 bag in black, taupe, or beige. I’ve been sticking to a magenta suede Proenza Schouler bag.”

On how she's SO real, because she doesn't have a nanny and takes care of her kids by herself: “I’m up at 6:30 in the morning with my kids. I’m taking them wherever they need to go.”

On how she's not about to get mauled by a Sasquatch: “Khloé was at my 29th birthday. I don’t get involved in the drama. I’ve been with Kobe since I was 17, so I’ve seen plenty of players, and plenty of wives, come and go. It wouldn’t benefit me whatsoever to have an issue with any of them, whether they were a girlfriend, or a wife, a person-of-a-month, or … you know. And I think that’s why the Lakers as an organization give me the access that I have, that other wives don’t have.”

On how she's so special that they let her sashay into the tunnel after games: "If you notice, I am the only one allowed in that tunnel. I don’t like standing outside and giving him a kiss in front of all the cameras. So I stand in there to get away from them. But then the cameras end up following. And if the girls are there, sometimes, that’s their kiss good night for Daddy, and when he comes home, they’re asleep.”

On her marriage with Kobe: “We’re working on things.”

On how her husband sticking his wandering peen in any and every trick is okay, but losing a championship isn't: “I certainly would not want to be married to somebody that can’t win championships. If you’re sacrificing time away from my family and myself for the benefit of winning championships, then winning a championship should happen every single year.”

"As they say, everyone and their mom is buying a Birkin bag." Who is the "they" bitch that says this? I don't own a stupid ass Birkin bag and I know my mom doesn't own a stupid ass Birkin bag. I don't even think my mom knows what a Birkin bag is. She probably thinks it's a bag you keep your Birkenstocks in or a bag you barf into when you stare at Cheryl Burke's face too long. I don't know. But I guess you aren't the "every" or the "one" in everyone if you don't own a Birkin bag. Vanessa Bryant should be a guest editor for GOOP.

And now Kobe knows that if he wants to get rid of Vanessa Bryant, he just has to throw a championship game.

Last January, I stared at a picture of Vanessa Bryant PNJ (post nose job) on my monitor and softly sang the lyrics to "Wind Beneath My Wings" after reading that she hit Kobe Bryant up big in the divorce settlement by getting 3 Newport Beach mansions and half of the $150 million he made during their 11 year marriage. I was expecting Vanessa to use her gold digging shovel to break ground on GDU (Gold Digging University) so she can teach amateur wallet fuckers the tricks of her trade. BUT WAIT, hold your applications to GDU, because the Yoda of gold diggers has pressed pause on her divorce. Vanessa and Kobe never signed the papers, and for the past few months they've been going back and forth. The marriage is now back on.

TMZ says Kobe and Vanessa are working on patching up their torn apart, bloody carcass of a dead marriage. A source says that Kobe hasn't moved back in with Vanessa yet, but they're trying hard to fix the problems that ripped the heart of their marriage out. Vanessa and Kobe have until this Monday to sign the papers, taking the last breath out of their marriage, or they'll have to file all over again.

Vanessa and Kobe are trying to fix the problems that ruined their marriage? HA! That's like a power bottom trying to let the tear in his b-hole heal, but he just can't stop sitting on peen after peen after peen. Vanessa and Kobe's marriage died, because he couldn't stop sticking his dick rod in the cooch hole of any Lakers groupie who winked at his ass. So how are they going to fix that problem when he's still trying to beat Wilt Chamberlain's record? The only thing Vanessa is working on is trying to fatten up her checking account more. Bitch really is brilliant. Vanessa doesn't have to smell the random twat fumes wafting off of Kobe's crotch when he gets into her bed at night, because he's not living with her. And Kobe is out there making more money to add to her pot. Why hug half of $150 million when you can hug half of $200 million or $250 million. Now I know the REAL reason why one of my Salvadoran relatives, who will go unnamed, said to me once, "I can't stand Mexicans." Bitch was just hating on Vanessa Laine Bryant's Hall of Fame-worthy gold digging game. The end.

I'd never buy a hot dog with extra sauerkraut or extra cheese from Catherine Scalia, but I still count her as one of my newest idols and watch the clip above from MyFoxNY if you want to know way. The former HSOTD and the hot dog water-covered pride of Long Island was put into handcuffs last week after an undercover cop claims that she sold him a hot dog, a lap dance and tried to sell him a John Travolta special (aka a handjob). Miss Catherine was released from jail and celebrated her return to the wild by flashing her all-natural, hormone-free ball park beef boobies at the cameras.

One of Catherine's sons told The Post that she served 4 years in prison for selling her ass on the stroll, but she swears that she's the Hot Dog Stripper and not the Hot Dog Hooker. The Hot Dog Stripper will plead innocent to the prostitution charge and she also plans to keep baring her nipples for a $1 in her hot dog truck.

Oh, Hot Dog Stripper, keep hot doggin' and keep ho'in! I can't wait until Lifetime eventually does the Hot Dog Stripper movie starring Lindsay Lohan or Sue Hawk.