Sadness

The autopsy on the world's most famous bear (sorry, John Travolta) Knut is still days away from being complete, but the Berlin Zoo has already issued a statement saying that preliminary findings shows that all of his body's internal organs including his heart were in fine shape. However, they did find some weird shit going on in his brain. This is why polar bears shouldn't drink Coke.

Some wannabe polar bear coroners speculated that Knut died from being locked up in an enclosure with three lady bears who constantly tormented him. But the bear curator at the zoo tells CBS (via USA Today) that if this was the case, there would be abnormalities in his heart or kidneys. There isn't, so this leads them to believe that he suffered from some kind of neurological disorder.

This might also explain why Knut's cold cunt bitch of a mom rejected him after birth and continued to refuse his love. A bi-polar bear-hating polar bear is a new brand of evil. It's also a new tongue twister drama students can use during warm up.

Meanwhile, there's a good chance the British Natural History Museum is going to stuff Knut and put his body on display. To which I say, KUNTS!

The bright shiny amethyst in the world's eye is moonwalking with Michael Jackson and the angels up in heaven today. The Today Show just announced that legend of legends Dame Elizabeth Taylor died early this morning of congestive heart failure at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. La Liz was 79 years old. As soon as I scent my tears with White Diamonds and get my eyebrows mourn-ready, I'll add more. Meanwhile, here's the statement her son released after her passing:

"My Mother was an extraordinary woman who lived life to the fullest, with great passion, humor, and love. Though her loss is devastating to those of us who held her so close and so dear, we will always be inspired by her enduring contribution to our world. Her remarkable body of work in film, her ongoing success as a businesswoman, and her brave and relentless advocacy in the fight against HIV/AIDS, all make us all incredibly proud of what she accomplished. We know, quite simply, that the world is a better place for Mom having lived in it. Her legacy will never fade, her spirit will always be with us, and her love will live forever in our hearts."

Dame Liz's publicist says that she was surrounded by her children, Michael Wilding, Christopher Wilding, Liza Todd and Maria Burton, before she grabbed Richard Burton's hand and skipped through the cloud tunnel to heaven (Yes, I believe heaven is exactly like it is in soap operas). Liz is survived by her 4 children, 10 grandchildren and 4 great grand children.

There are so many things to thank Elizabeth Taylor for, like her contribution to the fight against AIDS, her impeccable eyebrow situation, her White Diamonds commercial (the holidays won't ever be the same), her dozens of film roles, her turn as Helena Cassadine on General Hospital and of course...this:

Rest in peace, Elizabeth... I'm going to get married today in your honor.

There's not enough sad faces in the world to describe my feelings about the sudden death of Knut. Knut, the most famous polar bear in the world who has graced the covers of magazines and quickly became an icon of Germany, tragically died in his enclosure at the Berlin Zoo today. Knut was only 4 years old.

Spiegel International says that Knut was all alone in his compound when 600 visitors witnessed him collapse in the water. That is one of the saddest things I've read in a long time. The public watched as Knut gave his last breath in the spotlight all by himself. That is a blanket of pure sadness wrapped around all of our souls.

The Berlin Zoo is mourning the loss of their young star and will perform an autopsy to find his cause of death.

Knut twirled into everyone's heart after his mother rejected him as her son shortly after his birth in 2006. After that, Knut's young life was filled with fame, happiness, sadness, addiction, rejection, loss, loneliness and now he's sliding down the icy glaciers in heaven with his human mother Thomas Dörflein who died at the age off 44 in 2008.

Rest in peace, Knut... Your memory will live on forever and you're in heaven now where all the angels want to be your mother :(. Now let's all grow cry into a Klondike.

Michael Gough, who you probably know as Alfred Pennyworth in both of Tim Burton's Batman movies as well as those other two bat shit shows we won't talk about, has died at the age of 94.

Some fun facts I learned while reading Michael Gough's Wikipedia page is that he was married to Polly from Doctor Who once and was in a bunch of Burton movies including Sleepy Hollow, Alice in Wonderland and Corpse Bride. Before Michael raised his silver wing brows as Alfred in the Batman movies, he used his thespian skills in several episodes of Doctor Who and Out of Africa.

Rest in peace, Michael... You are now with the butler angels who are serving you martinis on a silver platter in heaven.

via Metro

Tears are flowing through the 213 today, because Long Beach legend Nate Dogg is riding a hydraulics cloud up to heaven. Nate, a founding member of 213 with Snoop Dogg and Warren G, was only 41 years old.

Nate Dogg's family told The Long Beach Press-Telegram that he passed away, but didn't give any other details. Nate suffered two strokes in 2007 and 2008, and health problems have been fucking with him ever since.

Snoop Dogg has already poured one out for Nate Dogg on Twitter:

We lost a true legend n hip hop n rnb. One of my best friends n a brother to me since 1986 when I was a sophomore at poly high where we met

I love u buddy luv. U will always b wit me 4ever n a day u put the g n g funk u put the 1 n 213 n u put yo stamp on evrybdy u ever didit wit

I miss u cuzz I am so sad but so happy I got to grow up wit u and I will c u again n heaven cuz u know d slogan

all doggs go to heaven yo homie n baby brotha bigg snoopdogg!!

RIP NATE DOGG.

Rest in peace, Nate Dogg. Here's hoping you're tokin' with the angels (that is really going to get me an abuelita chankla slap to the mouth).

Mike Starr, the original bassist for Alice in Chains, is performing with Layne Staley and the other members of Angels in Chains up in heaven. Mike was found dead in a home in Salt Lake City, Utah this afternoon. Mike's cause of death is not known. He was only 44.

Mike's addiction to the bad shit was documented in the third season of Celebrity Rehab and he declared himself 6 months sober when season four aired. But Mike's sobriety didn't last. He was busted with Xanax and Opana pills by Salt Lake City police last month.

Rest in peace, Mike.

And I'm hoping those lace white shorts made the trip to heaven with him.

via E! Online

Jane Russell, one of the last jewels of Old Hollywood, died at her home in Santa Maria, CA today and is now ogling at the biceps on angels up in heaven. Jane's daughter-in-law tells Reuters that she died of respiratory problems. Jane was 89 years old.

Reuters says that Jane got her big break when Howard Hughes put her in his movie The Outlaw, because of her magnificent 38-D chichis. The Outlaws wasn't released until 3 years after it was shot, because censors just wouldn't let Jane's breasts be great. Jane went on to star in a bunch of westerns including Belle Starr. But Jane is best known for the movie that I used to watch on AMC every time it came on: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. After that, Jane was in something called Gentlemen Marry Brunettes! I have never heard of this shit before, but now it's sitting in the middle of my Netflix queue.

And while searching for quotes about Jane's life, I came across this story about how she once proudly declared that she's a "mean-spirited, narrow-minded, right-wing Christian bigot." On that note, rest in peace, Jane. And thanks for this:

Well, this is just a silicone sack full of sad. Sheyla Hershey, the woman who once held the record for having the largest breast implants in the world, is in a coma after she tried to commit suicide by overdosing on pills at her home in Houston. Five months ago, Sheyla was forced to get her 38M titty bags removed when she contracted an infection. At the time, Sheyla said that she was sad to say goodbye to the twin Sumo wrestlers on her chest, but her daughter and son come first. But I guess the void of not having implants was too much for Sheyla to handle.

The Sun reports that this is the second time in two months Sheyla has attempted suicide. Sheyla was in therapy for her silicone addiction, but it didn't help. Sheyla apparently said, "Once I reclaim my identity as the World's Biggest Boobs I can be a better role model for my daughter. I feel so ugly without my breasts. Without them, I don't know who I am."

Sheyla was supposed to get Kourtney, Khloe and Kim Kardashian (aka KKK implants) installed in her chest today. Sheyla's husband confirms that she's in a coma, "Doctors don't know when she'll wake. I just pray she gets out of it."

If only Aretha Franklin could find a way to transfer the fat melting off her chichis over to Sheyla. This is just a modern day tragedy I thought only existed on Nip/Tuck. Sheyla can't live with silicone, and she can't live without silicone either....

via Gawker

But this isn't supposed to happen. Jack LaLanne is supposed to outlive every single one of us. This is definitely a cold glass of freshly juiced sadness. Jack LaLanne, the fitness guru of all fitness gurus who still makes all of us feel like fat lazies, is juicing oranges with his bare hands for the angels up in heaven today. Jack died of respiratory failure due to pneumonia at his home in Morro Bay, CA this afternoon. Jack was 96.

Jack was not only an infomercial star who entertained me in the middle of the night with his juice talk while I devoured a bowl of nachos, but he also hosted his own workout show for a million years and opened a chain of gyms.

Jack's wife of 51 years, Elaine LaLanne (that's really the perfect name), released a short statement to The Associated Press about the loss of a legend:

"I have not only lost my husband and a great American icon, but the best friend and most loving partner anyone could ever hope for.

Rest in peace, Jack.... We'll all put on our black spandex jumpsuits and juice something in your honor (Can you juice a Twinkie?).

Just when I put a candle snuffer/shot glass over the flame on my Saint Bea candle which burned clouds of good thoughts for Aretha Franklin's health, I read that 72-year-old Etta James is in a bad, bad way. You can always count on a good old-fashioned family bitch fight to pull the curtain on somebody's private situation. The Press-Enterprise (via USA Today) reports that Etta's husband of 41 years Artis Mills and her son Donto James are fighting over who should control the $1 million that's used to pay for her care.

Court papers show that Etta is undergoing treatment for leukemia and suffers from dementia. Dr. Elaine James (zero relation) declared in documents that Etta can't sign her own name and needs 24-hour care at her home in Riverside, CA. Donto wants the court to assign control of his mother's money to a third-party "to avoid present and future family conflict and discrepancies."

We wouldn't have even known about Etta's health if her husband and son didn't take their fight to the courts! Christ on a hot wig! Can't they solve their differences with a backyard brawl like normal people do? (You can't do it inside, because you might knock over "The Last Supper" ceramic floor vase your abuelita spent 20-minutes haggling for at the Tijuana border.) Some of my best family fights have been resolved with a spray of a garden hose.

And now I must relight my Saint Bea candle and play "At Last" (NOT the Beyonce version) on a loop.