Jordan & Harvey

In a TV interview with Piers Morgan, Katie Price says that she had a miscarriage just a few weeks before her marriage to Peter Andre ended.

Katie found out after she returned to England from America where she was shooting her reality show with Peter Andre and the kiddies. Katie says she was ten weeks pregnant when the doctors told her the fetus had no heart beat during a routine scan. After the doctor did some bloodwork, he thought there was a chance the baby was still alive, because the HGC levels were high. He called Katie in for another scan. She went on to say, "I went in thinking, 'He’s going to be great, he’s going to see a heartbeat.'" But the doctor told her that her baby had passed away.

Six days later she was running in the London Marathon, "I'm running along... and I'm trying to keep myself together, not to cry. I just wanted to say to people, 'Just leave me alone, I've just lost a baby.'"

Katie said that the loss of their baby had nothing to do with their marriage going sour. She says it was Peter's decision to quit their marriage, because he thought she was doing illegal sexy times with her horse-riding instructor Andrew. Katie denies that she ever rode her instructor. She also says she tried to make the marriage work, but Peter wasn't willing to try, "It was all down to Pete, he wanted this, not me. He's not as innocent as he's been making out."

When The Sun asked Peter Andre to comment on Katie's interview, his ass was not happy that she told the entire world about her miscarriage. His rep said, "It was Peter's child as well and Peter is devastated and deeply disappointed that Kate has chosen to speak out about this and their marriage. It is a private matter."

Ouch. I kind of felt the chill. Queens can be so bitchy during times of sadness (don't look at me like that). But I don't know why Peter Andre is clutching his pearl necklace (you decide what kind) in shock that Katie is sharing their business with everyone. I mean, Katie has already shared with us that Peter's peen is the color of butt butter, among other things.

I wonder what Harvey thinks about Peter leaving his mama je'e during such a sad time. I think he should express his feelings to the world in the form of an interpretive dance.

Well, well, well, it looks like Little Miss Jodie Marsh 2.0 is back from flaunting her twin bags of off-ramp oranges in Ibiza. Katie Price was at the grocery store in England today with the President of The Hood Rat Stuff Club: UK Branch and Princess Tiamaiamamaiamiamaiammam.

Harvey Price looks happier than me in a tub filled with Mother's Circus Animal Cookies, but I hope he gave his mother serious shade for leaving his ass for a full week! Katie could have packed Harvey up and taken him to Ibiza with her. Harvey knows how to bust it low and party with the glittery gays. Katie probably knew Harvey would take the spotlight away from her, so she left the little bright shining star at home.

And did Katie marinate Princess Tiamamamammai in Tang?!

A while ago, I stopped referring to Katie Price as her alter whore ego "Jordan," because she wanted to change her image and start being a family woman or some shit. This hurt me, because Jordan was always my favorite elegant rose of England. How could she turn her back on all the people who loved her for who she really is: a dirty, dirty ho fo sho. It didn't make sense to me and it made my no-no frown, but thankfully, Jodie Marsh was there to pick up the pieces by entertaining me with her extreme acts of sluttiness. Jodie quickly replaced Jordan as England's Finest Rose and now Katie Price wants her title back.

Now that she's a free woman, Katie has been making up for whore times by parading her pussay all over Ibiza. On Saturday night, Katie hit the town wearing one of Jodie's old ones. I think Katie was trying to shock everyone, but Jodie wears gold lame (luh-maaay) camel toe whore-veralls to church! Try again, Katie.

However, Katie does get a few points for telling a few girls in the club that they are ugly. The Sun says that while Katie was partying with her big gay boyfriend (the power bottom in the loin cloth), she pulled a few girls aside to give them her thoughts on their looks. Here's just a few comments Katie made to various hos in the club:

"I really like your face and you're really pretty, but you seriously need to lose some weight from your thighs."

"You're ugly - I don't know what you're doing out here."

"She told me I had a fantastic body with amazing legs but I needed to sort my face out."

I must admit that Katie's cunty words of delusion have touched me a little, but I'm not back in her whore graces just yet. And why didn't any of these girls tell Katie that they may have fugly faces, but at least their titty implant isn't try to make a run for it! Seriously, what is that sliding down Katie's leg in the first thumbnail below? That stupid implant made a wrong turn! It turned right at her belly button instead of going straight and busting out of her vagina. CAUGHT!

Peter Andre didn't care about effin' up his make-up when he burst into tears at the airport in Cyprus yesterday. The Sun says Petey broke down immediately when he was reunited with his mommy who flew in from Australia. A source said, "He was stunned to see his mum at the airport. She's been really worried about him, especially as he's lost so much weight. She wanted to see him for herself and comfort him. It was all too much for Pete and he just broke down."

Peter should really only be crying tears of joy, because look who is with him in Cyprus. It's HARVEY! Whenever Harvey is around, nobody should be sad. A smile from Harvey is like being embraced by a Snuggie made from rainbows. He also has the same effect on people when he tells them to "fuck off."

The one who should be crying is that gay slut Katie Price! While Peter gets to spend time with the greatest child on earth, she's spending time with the worst straight-for-fame hooker ever. Yes, Katie is still slutting around Ibiza with that supposedly straight dude ( insert queef noise here). You know what's making my soul cry? Those jeans tucked into those fugly ass boots! I'd have to keep my eyes up while sucking the peen, because if I looked down, I'd choke on my own laugh.

Katie and Peter have only been split up for a few weeks and she already has a new main extra-spicy unicorn at her side. How quickly they forget about the gay who wasn't afraid to tell you that those heels made your ankles look fat or how they cried beside you while watching Steel Magnolias. The fucking audacity.

Katie's new purse holder is model Anthony Lowther. The two have been running around all over Ibiza this week. They have been seen kissing at clubs, but I think Anthony was just trying to fix Katie's lipstick.

These two are so close that they are even sharing each other's clothes! Although, Katie should think twice about that, because Anthony's chesticles look way more delicious and succulent in that blouse than hers ever could!

Here's more of Katie and Anthony spreading the glitter in Ibiza last night and the night before. I would go into convulsions if I ever saw Anthony in those elegant crushed-velvet lucite boots! It would destroy me in the best way.

The paparazzi needs to work on their priorities. They have an extra-spicy cinnamon stick right in front of them and they decide to follow Katie Price instead. We've all seen her leather-wrapped medicine balls over and over again. I want to get to know that nekkid Adonis with the long grain nipples (just let me believe) and the enticing bald spot. If Katie's eyes didn't get so horny for the cameras, she'd realize her dream man was sitting behind her in all his glory.

Unfortunately, here's more of Katie (and less of that fine piece) selling it for the paps on a nakey beach in Ibiza yesterday afternoon.

Katie Price is not going to let a little thing called "my marriage is dead because my husband likes to gargle with man milk in the morning" get in the way of her slut strut! Katie Price hiked up her overgrown plastic hamster balls to take the runway at The Clothes Show in London yesterday. And is Harvey's mama je'e a fan of Kate Gosselin, because there is definitely a beaver on steroids lying on her head.

Here's a few more pictures of Katie proving that you can't keep a good whore down for long. Flex that ribcage like you don't need a meal, bitch!

The wind beneath the world's wings, Harvey Price, turned 7 this week and while everyone on this planet cheered because they were so happy to be alive to celebrate this beautiful moment, Peter Andre cried orange tears in the middle of a bath house somewhere. That's because Katie Price refused to let him go to Harvey's birthday party.

Not only are Katie's chichis made of non-biodegradable materials, but so is her heart! It's one thing to suck on another man's taint on the floor of a club VIP room, but to not let Peter go to Harvey's big party?! How can the woman be sooooo cruel!!!?!!!

According to Metro, Peter apparently told a few of his friends (while they were playing "Spin the Dick on the Ass"), “Why has she done this to me? It makes me wonder if the cow ever really loved me in the first place.”

Obviously, she never did! You know how you show someone you hate them more than alarm clocks? You ban them from attending any event that Harvey Price will be at. Although, Harvey probably didn't care. He just wanted to know if Peter bought him a copy of Laterian Milton's Guide to Hood Rat Stuff or not.

Here's Katie Price, Princess Tiamamamaidamiadsmimi and Harvey at a theme park yesterday.

All the cherubs in heaven called in sick today, because they are still devastated over the news that Katie Price and Peter Andre's orange love has gone rotten. What really went wrong? Did Katie finally catch Peter peen-handed? What? What? What? Well, according to The Sun, these pictures were the jizz load that broke the whore's back.

After Peter saw pictures of Katie with her overgrown kumquats out, he immediately asked for divorce. Peter could no longer take seeing Katie rubbing her tittays all over random dudes. Um. Honestly, Peter's glitter box probably started percolating upon first sight of this dude in the picture above, so he should know better. I'm pretty sure that dude is a certified dick lover.

A few hours after Peter released the heartbreaking (not really) statement to the world, Katie Price released her own:

“Pete is the love of my life and my life, we have children together and I am devastated and disappointed by Peter’s decision to separate and divorce me. As I married him for life. This is not what I want and the decision has been taken out of my hands.”

Last night, Katie fled Britain with Princess Tiamamamammaiaiamaia and Junior in tow. Katie left Harvey behind with the nanny. WHAT IN THE FUCK SHIT FUCK WHAT HUH FUCK WHAT. Katie left Harvey behind?! Bitch has really lost. All the silicone, collagen, jizz and fake tanning grease finally seeped into her brains, because Harvey should be her everything. Without Harvey, she's nothing! Hearing that she left behind that precious angel hurts my soul more than her staged divorce. Harvey, I weep for you!!!

The couple made in spray tanning grease heaven has quit the love! Katie Price and Peter Andre announced through their management that famewhoring, fake titty balls, Dep Gel and orange caca is not enough to keep them together and they are separating after almost 5 years of marriage. They issued this statement to The Sun:

“Peter Andre and Katie Price are separating after four-and-a-half years of marriage. They have both requested that the media respect their families’ privacy at this difficult time."

What about Princess Tiamamamaiamiamai? What about Junior? What about the future of ITV2 in the UK? More importantly, WHAT ABOUT HARVEY?! Who the hell is Harvey going to tell off now that Peter Andre isn't around anymore. Harvey is going to scream "FUCK OFF" and Peter won't be there to hear it. That makes my soul cry. Although, Harvey is probably laughing himself into a fart storm, because he's in charge again. That's the way it should be!

And these two famesluts asking for privacy is like me asking for a vagina in a CROC. It doesn't make sense. Publicity stuntery!