Drunks

Randy Travis was shuffled off to the drunk tank in Sanger, Texas at around 1 this morning after the cops ruined his buzz by catching him guzzling from a wine bottle while sitting in his car which was parked in front of a baptist church. If you put a banjo and a sprinkle of twang on that last sentence, it really would sound like a country song. As soon as Randy Travis smears some lip chap on those crackle lips (Seriously, couldn't the cops have given Randy a dollop of Vaseline for his mug shot moment?), he should write that song.

NBCDFW says that someone called the police to complain about a suspicious-looking vehicle parked in front of the church. The cops answered the call and found Randy sitting in his car. When Randy rolled the window down, the cops practically got tanked from inhaling his 100 proof wine breath. Randy had an open bottle of wine on his lap, so the cops killed his car party for one and dragged him to jail. Randy was booked on public intoxication and dried out in the tank for a few hours before he was released.

Who hasn't been arrested for getting drunk on the blood of christ in front of a church? But the thing is, Randy Travis lives in some town called Tiogra, which isn't far from where the cops got his ass. So why wasn't Randy getting plastered under his carport like all the Texans I know? Let's hope that Randy learned a valuable lesson from this. The lesson being that when a trick you met from Grindr (or Craigslist, or from calling a number you found scribbled in front of a urinal in a truck stop bathroom) tells you to meet them in front of the baptist church with a bottle of Chateau Diane, tell them to come to your carport instead!

No, seriously, I had this friend in L.A. who never let the tricks he met online come into his house. He'd meet them in front and then take them into the garage. They'd do their thing on an old futon and then he'd kick them out. His reasoning was that he was too lazy to go to their house and he didn't want them to come inside his just in case they were thieves. He'd tell them that his dog didn't like strangers. So there's your Ho Shit tip of the day! Hopefully, it goes from my blog to Randy's eyes.

Water is wet, I flicked at my nipple while using the neti pot this morning, Tommy Girl took his toast with a thick layer of nut butter and Lindsay Lohan allegedly snorted her way to fucked up and back on Sunday night. The headline "Lindsay Lohan Gets Loaded at Chateau Marmont" is about as shocking as the headline "Angelina Jolie Only Ate Air Today," but let's hear what Radar has to say about this mess anyway. Radar's source claims that at a SAG Awards party at Chateau Marmont on Sunday night, Blohan slurred her words and her eyes were so damn glassy that you could've cut a line on them. Apparently, she tried to look like the epitome of sober by only sipping on water, but her coke burnt nose told a different story. So said the source:

"Lindsay was spotted going to the restroom with a male companion on numerous occasions in a short amount of time. When the two of them emerged from the bathroom, Lindsay was giggling and her nose appeared red. Lindsay was spotted only drinking water in the lounge area, but she appeared to be loaded on something, and she seemed under the influence. Lindsay's eyes were glassy and her pupils were constricted. [She] was definitely on something. She was slurring her words, and needed help walking at one point in the course of the night. Lindsay was sitting on a chair adjacent to Harvey Weinstein's party - his was roped off and she didn't get past the rope. So she sat on the other side looking over. She looked bedraggled and desperate."

Of course, LiLo's rep denies all of this.

The only language Lindsay Lohan knows is Drunk Slur and her pupils are just naturally constricted now, so it would really be news if she was talking without a slur and walking without tripping over herself. But I CAN'T with her hibernating in the bathroom all night. Who does she think she is? Kim Richards from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills? I hate that shit. That is why going to certain places is the worst. There's always some cokehead cokejacking the bathroom when all you want to do is take a quick caca, because you made the wrong decision of drinking a White Russian. You know how some bathrooms have a baby changing station? Chateau Marmont needs a coke snorting station just for Blohan. Let the non-snorters shit!

On ESPN's Dan Le Batard is Highly Questionable (via THR) the other day, Pat Sajak told Dan Le Batard (pronounced: luh butt tard) a secret and it wasn't that his current hairpiece is made of Vanna White's old bangs or that he was the prototype for the Teddy Ruxpin doll. Pat told Mr. Luh Butt Tard that back in the 80s he and Vanna would drown their insides with a margarita typhoon between shows and then stumble back to the set not knowing their vowels from their consonants. So basically, nothing has changed!

"Vanna and I would go across and have two or three or six and then come and do the last shows and have trouble recognizing the alphabet. They're really good tapes to get a hold of. I had a great time. I have no idea if the shows were any good, but no one said anything, so I guess I did OK. I would be hesitant to have anything to drink now."

And after the show, the drunk hot flashes would overtake Vanna and Pat's bodies, so they'd rip off their clothes, she'd sprawl out on the wheel, he'd spin it and then poke her with his peen every time she came around. When Vanna had enough, she'd put the bankrupt wedge over her chocha. But seriously, Vanna keeps giving me reasons to hate her. I already hate her for the following reasons:

1. Vanna gets to drape herself in ensembles that are the epitome of GLAMOUR. (Exhibit: A)
2. Vanna has a luscious mane of ash blond hair that takes hairspray like no other.
3. Vanna starred in NBC's greatest achievement, The Goddess of Love.
4. Vanna's job is so easy that a fat, lazy fart-brained chihuahua can do it. No, seriously, I have a fat, lazy, fart-brained chihuahua and even he can touch an iPad when it glows.
5. Vanna's face is on yarn.

The list goes on and on, but now "getting fucked up on the job" is now at the top of that list. Although, I shouldn't really hate her for that one since I'm typing this while wondering if my diet will allow me to switch the wheat bread on my sandwich for beer.

And here's one of the clips Pat was talking about:

I should be impressed by his chugging skills, but I'm more impressed that the pussy wig on his head stays on even when he tilts back.

Someone who doesn't know my ass very well asked me who I thought was the best dressed last night and and my answer was and will always be: WHO CARES! Picking out a pretty dress is easy! It's so easy a MiserAlba can do it. The men and women who really deserves some attention (and heavy amounts of extra chunky shade) are the ones who rolled into a truly busted outfit and bravely smiled through the fugness in front of all the cameras. Because it takes a lot of work to look that fucked up and we should give them the recognition they deserve. So here's my favorite messes from last night in no particular order.

Piper Perabo - The car cover for my mom's old Buick got a second chance at life when Piper used it to make a ball gown that Cinderella would've worn if her Fairy Godmother was a pervert who just wanted to see her nipples. If you were walking through the woods and heard the voice of crazy calling at you from above, and you looked up to find a nekkid ass Sharon Stone caught in a parachute stuck in the trees, she would look just like Piper Perabo. Piper's dress told me that yes, she does acid. And Piper's curious poses told me that yes, she does acid AND Ecstasy.

Melanie Griffith - Okay, Melanie's dress was totally normal, but the scene she gave on the red carpet was a totally different story. The way Antonio Banderas held her up and dragged her across the carpet... The way she kept those sunglasses on.... I really thought it was a Weekend at Bernie's situation until I realized that Melanie probably got a quick glance at Piper's posing and was knocked back by the DRAMA!

Zooey Deschanel - I shouldn't look at the top of a dress and think that my dog's idea of heaven would be scooting across it. AstroTurf for your titties is not the look.

Sarah Michelle Gellar - The worst ad for MiO Water EVER! I'm not sure I wanted to know what it would look like if I was swimming at the bottom of a pond in Smurf Village and looked up just as all the Smurfs started to piss into the water. That being said, I want that dress as my next screensaver.

Lea Michele - We're living in a world where Lea Michele is Beyonce in her own head and we're also living in a world where nobody told her that she looked like a mermaid linebacker from Chernobyl.

Amanda Peet - The good news is that her 1-year-old daughter now has a cribskirt for almost every day of the week.

Jessica Chastain - I KNOW! I can already hear it. Everybody thought Jessica Chastain was the epitome of perfection and is what would grace your eyes if you looked at an angel's pearl necklace under a microscope. But I just looked at Jessica Chastain and saw a really bad Swoosie Kurtz circa 1989 impersonation.

I will say, though, that Jessica is someone you want in her life. When Giuliana Rancic was interviewing Jessica on E!, she loved everything. Jessica said she LOVED Giuliana, was such a fan and has also been dreaming of coming to the Golden Globes ever since she was a little girl. Yes, Jessica is one of those people who loves everything. So she's definitely the person you want to tell when you've just found out you have Gonorrhea. You'd be like, "Jessica, I just got back from the doctor and he told me that being a bareback slut finally caught up with me and I have Gonorrhea now." Jessica would keep a smile on her face and be like, "Gonorrhea?! That's my favorite STD! I love gonorrhea! I'm a huge fan. I'm so happy for you!"

Thomas Jane - I did not know that Knott's Berry Farm let you keep the costumes after you take a picture at one of their old timey photo shops.

Have you ever tried to type while you're laughing your ass off??  Then you'll forgive the typos when I tell you that Lindsay Lohan is a changed woman ahahahaha no seriously hahahaha... AHEM!  SHE HAS CHANGED!!  TMZ says that Lilo has turned down numerous (hey, two counts as numerous) offers to host NYE parties because she desperately wants to change her party girl image.

Here's a beat-looking and weathered down Kate Moss stumbling drunkface first out of The Box in London last night with her husband Count von Count and some friends. Don't let out one laugh, because this will probably be some of us in a few hours (and is probably some of you RIGHT NOW) after Jack Daniels rides a Wild Turkey down our throats a dozen times or so. You know, it's when the nectar of the Gods lulls your head to sleep and your brain tries to pull down your eyelid shades, but you're trying to fight it to keep the party alive. That's your loved ones cue to plop you in a corner, shove a slobber bucket under your neck and then spend the rest of the night trying to throw uncooked cranberries into your wide open passed out mouth. It's a Thanksgiving tradition! But I have a feeling that to Kate Moss' daughter, it's a nightly tradition.

My mom asked me the other day if I was watching Revenge (which you should always pronounce as RUUUUH-VEEEENGE while making wide Norma Desmond eyes), and I told her that I was behind 3 episodes since its priority ranks way below my current soul fillers of choice The A-List: Dallas and Love & Hip Hop. So instead of doing the correct thing by softly weeping about how she can't believe she raised such a garbage disposal tramp who eats up trash by the pound, she goes, "Oh, so you didn't see it when so-and-so found out that so-and-so was a this-and-that? I couldn't believe it!" So yeah, just like my mom, Spaz de la Huerta should import the phrase "SPOILER ALERT" into her lexicon, because she spilled way too much information on the Boardwalk Empire season finale at a party the other night.

Page Six says that Spaz, who truly always looks like she's always having an awake abortion, was approached by a guest and asked if she could tell them anything about the season finale. (SPOILER ALERT) The drunk face that launches a thousand side-eyes opened its mouth and told the guest that her character's baby dies. Apparently, that's more than the party guest wanted to hear.

For real, though, I doubt that even happens in the finale if it came from Spaz's tongue. Spaz is forever free falling down a K-hole where the moments from her life twist together, and so she doesn't know what she's saying half of the time. When you turn on the local news tonight, you'll find out that Spaz was arrested for accidentally blacking out on top of a baby. "So that's what she meant" is what you'll say afterward. Oh shit, I should've added a SPOILER ALERT to that shit.

This morning, the lobby of the Belasco Theater in Los Angeles looks like a crime scene where a tangerine viciously murdered a family of cherries and that could only mean one thing: XTINA WAS THERE!

The Tasmanian She-Devil put on her party leggings and whirled through a video game launch party, eating every booze bottle, whore d'oeuvre and man in her path. Once every drop of hooch and cater waiter tray had been devoured, she stopped, let out a few huffs and then this happened:

Xtina gambled:

Xtina lost:

And when Xtina loses, everybody in a 200-foot radius loses. Emergency room nurses at the UCLA Medical Center now know why the number of fart inhalation cases that came in last night were up by a thousand percent.

Also, here's Xtina's beauty tip of the day: Before a night of drunken debauchery, go ahead and color your hairline with a bronzer stick. Bronzer it up all the way. I mean, your hairline is going to be covered in bronzer shit by the end of the night anyway, so you might as well look like you did it on purpose.

Kate Moss is a seasoned drunk who knows very well that sometimes you can get to a party to find that some rabid disrespectful piles of scab trash have sucked down all the good sweet nectar and have left you to make a cocktail out of melted ice and window cleaner. So Kate always comes prepared just in case disaster should strike, and last night in London she stumbled into the Dazed & Confused (too easy) party at the W Hotel with two human crutches to keep her from spilling her goblet of wine.

Kate was not about to spill one drop. Jodie Marsh could've come by and made the wind barf by flexing, and Kate's hand would've stayed steady and kept the wine in. Pete Doherty could've slithered up from the gutters to make tongue love with Kate's nostrils (how they used to greet each other in the old days) and that glass would stay as stiff as a zombie's dick. Bitch could go through a Wipeout obstacle course and come out with a full glass. Unlike that wrong bitch Kate Winslet in Titanic, Kate Moss is never letting go.

In the glory days, Kate could throw that wine around like nothing, but IN THIS ECONOMY you have to cherish and respect every precious drop. You don't waste that shit. You fight for it, you lie for it, you walk the wire for it, you dieeeee for it.

Shia LaDouche and the Kingdom of the Cracked Skull played on the streets of Vancouver over the weekend when Even Stevens took several blows to the head from a fat, hairy, topless dude. Yes, that does sound like the disappointing grand finale of a 2-star gay porn that will leave sitting up in bed with your laptop on your bare thighs, peach lotion in your hands, a light shade of azure covering your nutsack and a Post-It note tacked to the outside of your brain reminding you to never trust the porn recommendations of a friend whose go-to fap material is a scene from Fight Club. There's nothing worse than the walk of shame from your bed to the bathroom when you've got nothing (read: cum hands) to show for it except for a lotion-stained laptop and a frowning peen hole. Moving on...

Shia LaBeouf's resume just got another line added to it under: extracurricular douchetivities. Shia's impressive credits already include a DUI, a drunken meltdown in the middle of a Walgreens, a handful of bar brawls and outside of Cinema Public House in Vancouver he added "get face checked by a drunk fat bitch" to that list. TMZ says that Shia got into a brawl of words with the punch thrower inside of the bar and after they were both kicked out, the hairy dude ripped off his shirt and went after him. That fat bitch punched Shia like he was a plain salad with no blue cheese dressing.

(Side note: Why do assbags always have to rip their shirts off before they issue a beatdown? It's like the dick bag equivalent of the Hulk t-shirt rip. Do they think it makes their stupid asses look scarier? Or maybe they don't have an in-unit washer dryer, so they're not about to add another piece of clothing to their laundromat pile because they got the blood of Shia on it. I can understand that.)

Shia was finally saved by a poking crutch and another dude who really wanted to hug the rage out of him. Radar says that before this fight, Shia got into two other bar brawls at two different places.

Shia, get yourself together, girl! Doesn't Shia know that every time he guzzles the sweet nectar to the point that it brings out the skid mark rage in him, his hot sessy mother has to grab him by the ear, drag him home and spank the foolery right out of his naked nalgas?! Oh, wait. So that's what this is all about!