Quote of the Day
Crystal Harris continued on her Failed Gold Digging Whore Tour today by talking with Howard Stern about the first time she ever humped the bone dust out of Hugh Hefner's grave worm dick. It was pretty much the kind of romantic shit you'd expect between a 24-year-old lazy gold digger and an 85-year-old grandwhore. Crystal got to bypass Hef's usually conveyer belt line of blonde sluts and go straight to the front for a two-second long ride that made her pussy frown. Crystal spoke the language of true romance when she put it like this to Howard:
"[It lasted] like, two seconds. Then I was just over it. I was like, 'Ahh.' I was over it. I just, like, walked away. I'm not turned on by Hef. Sorry. He doesn't really take off his clothes. I've never seen Hef naked."
Sugar Pie better stick her little paw out, because Anna Nicole Smith is about to shed one single tear from heaven over this hurtful shit. Anna Nicole would've never behaved like that. That bum bitch Crystal Harris is a shame to all gold diggers. Yes, the thought of riding on Hef would make most coochies stiffen up like they've got rigor mortis, but you slap it loose and handle it.
You picture Hef's wrinkly flesh stick as his checking account and you picture your vag as your checking account. With every thrust you make, you picture a "transfer transmitting" bar. Don't hit back, just keep thrusting. Make that transfer, bitch! Seriously, that's how a real gold digger does it. I swear. If I was related to Crystal, I'd erase her name from our family tree on Ancestry.com. A shame.
Some of Brad Pitt's friends say that his nustack is one of Warden St. Angie's prisoners, but Matt Damon says they are both in shackles and behind bars. Matt tells Germany's Tele 5 that he's lucky, because he's a world famous multimillionaire actor who can walk the streets with the regulars without worrying about some fan crawling up into his asshole. Matt says that Brad and St. Angie aren't that fortunate. As Maddox ran his tin cup across the prison bars, Matt said:
"I have friends who are like prisoners. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, for instance. They can't just go someplace. If they go for a walk, it turns into an international incident.
I'm really lucky, because I have the best of both worlds. I do the work that I love and need, but don't need paramilitary troops to protect me when I walk out my front door."
Yes, Matt is every layer of right. Brad and St. Angie are tortured prisoners who are forced to sit in a chauffeured fully-equipped SUV and feed the human halos known as the twin messiahs drops of unicorn burps and organic crickets while not having to worry about some loud bitch on the street annoying them with her full-voiced cell phone conversation. (Seriously, if I hear another stranger bitch shouting into her cell phone about how she's "late" in that way..... It's like she's rubbing it in that she's getting some and I'm not.)
If that's a prisoner, then what kind of law in the code of Brangelina do I have to break to be sent away? Declare Jennifer Aniston as the most gorgeous being who has ever breathed oxygen through the land? Consider me a fucking chin-asexual then.
Father Andrés García Torres, a Spanish Catholic priest, is in danger of losing his position at his parish in Madrid after Bishop Getafe saw this picture of him hugging on a young Cuban seminarian and declared that some ESCANDALOSO Oh-mo-sex-oo-ahl-ish shit must be going on. If two dudes are side hugging in a picture it must mean that they were just side fucking until the stained glass windows blew out, obviously.
Bishop Getafe is so sure that the hot piece on the left made the sign of the father, the son and the holy ghost on Father Andrés' asshole with his peen that the bishop is calling for the father's resignation, a psychiatric evaluation and an HIV test. Father Andrés Unibrow denies the shit that is coming out of Bishop Getafe's mouth and says that his madre is wailing through the streets about this. Father Andrés will travel to Rome to try to prove that he's just friends with the seminarian and that the bishop is pushing him out of his parish without any proof. And then the literary angels cried when Father Andrés said this:
" Let them measure my anus and see if it is dilated."
I was about to clutch my pearls with my hands, but one of the lips of my way too dilated anus just reached around, crawled up and did it for me. Let's translate this work of poetry into Google Spanish and see if it has the same effect:
"Vamos a medir mi ano y ver si se dilata."
This time both of my anus lips clutched my pearls! And I thought that Lindsay Lohan's "move that cone" line was the quote of the week, but nope. "Let them measure my anus" is the new "Show me the receipts!"
This reminds me of something one of my friends said. He said that b-holes are sort of like tree trunks: you can tell how long they've been around by how many rings (or lines) they have. Oh, hell, I have probably the mighty oak of assholes. If you peered into it, you'd probably see the face of a wise old woman who would tell you to follow your heart and dance through the colors of the wind. Then you'd bring your white ship captain to meet the old lady in my asshole and ask for her approval. NO GRACIAS. That is why Father Andrés is braver (and less dilated in the anus) than me, because I'd never let anyone closely examine my Grandmother Willow asshole under bright lights.
And Bishop Getafe ain't shit! That shady bitch is up to something. I bet that Bishop Getafe will take Father Andrés up on that offer and show up to the anus measuring ceremony with ruler marks on his peen. I see you, Bishop Getafe!
via Free Thinker (Thanks to everybody who sent this in!)
Three years ago, Page Six had a blind item about how a movie star in a big summer movie violently raped his ex-boyfriend. The blind item went on to allege that the movie star replaced his ex-boyfriend's rape kit with a $500,000 so the police wouldn't be notified. It was a blind item that made me want to temporary blind my vision and soothe my brain by dunking my head in a bowl full of kittens. There were a million guesses and even Gawker ran a poll which named James Franco as the likeliest suspect. Well, James Franco clutched his rosary beads over being branded as gay rapist and tells Playboy (via E! Online) that it's the opposite of true.
"Then Gawker picked that up and did this 'Gay Rapist' story that was so fucking offensive, because I have friends who have been raped. They did a very classy online reader's poll asking which actor who had a big movie out that summer had beaten up and raped his boyfriend and then paid him off so it wouldn't go to court.
My lawyer called them and said that it was completely untrue and to take it down. They said, 'Well, we're just reporting what the New York Post told us. If James wants to make a comment on our blog, we're happy to report it.' It was a choice. Either let this thing build and become bigger and bigger, or just let it go and let them be the petty scumbags that they are."
So there you go! James Franco is a performance artist, Oscar ruiner, bachelor degree hoarder, author, perfume model, pussy eater, and short film director, but he is definitely not a gay rapist. So when we call him the James of all trades one of those trades is not gay raping. Got it! Scratch that off his resume.
Stephen Moyer of True Blood gets a lot of chichis shoved into his face to either sign with a Sharpie or mark with his teeth and his bi-sexual wife Anna Paquin sometimes lets him! If you've always wanted Vampire Beehl's mouth saliva on her titties, it's your lucky day because your dream might come true! Stephen tells Men's Fitness:
"I get to sign boobs a lot. I get to bite boobs, occasionally, when I'm allowed. If my missus is there and she approves of the person I get to bite boobs...and necks."
But Stephen Moyer didn't say if ASkars also bites boobs.....that sort of look like waxed testicles stuffed into a doll's dress hanging on another dude's crotch. "That is what I really want to know," says me as I head out the door to buy a doll's dress, tiny nipple stickers and wax.
Some say that LeAnn Rimes should use her fingers to scoop handfuls of milkshake into her mouth instead of using them to Twitter every millisecond of the day, but she's obviously ignoring that advice. LeAnn Tweeted this picture of herself from her honeymoon, which made one of her followers say that she was "scary skinny" and her hipbones were popping out. This was LeAnn's response:
those are called abs not bones love.
This is my body, and I can promise you I'm a healthy girl. I'm just lean. Thanks for your concern, but no need to be.
Thank you, LeAnn. I was unaware that abs could look like bones trying to escape your body so that they can run to the nearest hospital and get some nourishment by soaking in a bowl of Ensure. I did not know this! But she shouldn't think she's so special, because I have abs too, love! They're just modest abs and are always hiding under a cloud of bloat and fried cheese fat.
In Tree of Life, Brad Pitt plays a Texan who prays with an angry heart. As a child, Brad Pitt was raised in a religious family who believed that God was everything. And Brad Pitt today has totally different ideas about religion even though his twins were brought to this world in a nest made of God's hair by the archangels. Brad told Extra this when they asked him about God (or as LiLo calls him "G-D":
"I got brought up being told things were God's way, and when things didn't work out it was called God's plan. I've got my issues with it. Don't get me started. I found it very stifling."
Fast forward to this week's cover of InTouch Weekly: BRANGELINA SHOCKER! Brad Pitt Says His Divorce From Jennifer Aniston Was Not Part Of God's Plan! Reunion Soon?
And Brad's words might explain why he's a receding hairline away from looking like Jack Nicholson as Satan in The Witches of Eastwick.
Because you get all your hangover cure tips from a pretentious praying(foryoutobeasperfectasheroneday) mantises who leave you reaching for a bottle of anything that's mind numbing, here's one from Fishsticks Paltrow! Fishy tells Closer Magazine (via UsWeekly) what she does after a night of boozing (like she really does that) so she doesn't feel like me after reading GOOP.
All you'll need is water (imported from a mountain range that's way better than the Alps), a private sauna and some envy tea!
"I have a great hangover cure. I take a cold shower in the morning and then I go into the sauna and drink a lot of water throughout the day. Green tea also helps!"
When Closer asked Fishy if it was okay to stick your face over a pot of water boiling on your hot plate if you don't have a sauna, she started blinking uncontrollably until an assistant had to come in and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be okay even if she was in the presence of a poor. If you don't have a private sauna, you shouldn't get drunk, thankyouvermuch!
And speaking from experience, the best thing for a hangover is to not read about Fishsticks Paltrow's hangover cures.
Marg Helgenberger's Mother Day has no doubt been filled with e-mails calling her an "oLD jelliz h8r fat BiTch" and calls from bawling toddlers telling her to "DIAF" (Note: They actually say D-I-A-F, because they really don't know what it stands for. They just know it's bad.), because she has insulted their JESUS!!!! Marg kept it real with Europe1 (via NYDN) in France when they asked her what it was like working with Justin Bieber on CSI.
"Um. Justin Bieber wasn't bad. He never acted before. I shouldn't be saying this, but he was kind of a brat. He was very nice to me. But he locked one of the producers in a closet and he put his fist through a cake that was on the craft service table."
Locked a producer in the closet? I guess if Justin Bieber can't come out of the closet, NOBODY CAN! But seriously, if you were a 17-year-old superstar millionaire who doesn't know what a "no" is, you too might be a terrible shit who viciously murders cakes for sport and terrorizes television producers. I still cannot condone cake murder. Justin Bieber needs to stand trail as an adult for committing that crime.
Here's the clip of Marg putting a lump of rage in every Belieber's diaper (at the 2:33 mark):
And somewhere John Travolta is "eh-ing" at this since he regularly puts a fist through a producer in a locked closet.
If you would rather scream out Prince Charles' name during tampon sex than talk about who's going to design Kate Middleton's royal wedding garter belt, then have a seat next to Morrissey, because nobody's more over it than he is. Methinks the BBC Radio 5 knew this which is why they asked him if he's going to clutch at his bosom when Prince William gives Kate Middleton (or Kate Muddleton as Moz calls her) a "just married" lick in front of billions of people.
"Why would I watch the wedding? Why would I watch it? I couldn't take any of that seriously. I don't think the so-called Royal family speak for England now, and I don't think England needs them. I do seriously believe that they are benefit scroungers, nothing else. I don't believe they serve any purpose whatsoever.
I'm not an anarchist, but I believe that people don't want the Royal family -- the so-called Royal family. They're not royal to me, but they're royal to the media for some reason.
The press reports from Buckingham tell you that people love them, but go out and speak to people on the streets and they will laugh at you. They really will."
Why didn't BBC radio put a camera on his face before they asked him that question? The look he gave probably would've made the Queen herself scurry under a priest's gown. Get those welfare whores (except Prince Hot Ginge), Moz! You just know that while Morrissey is punching out a sequel to The Queen is Dead he's going to peek at the TV with one eye to see what kind of chiffon meringue mess Kate has on her body. I won't tell.