Posh gave birth to half of her weight this morning and now David Beckham has told us on his Facebook page the name that will be glued onto a panda fur Christmas stocking in canary diamonds next to the stockings of Cruz, Romeo and Juliet. Without further adieu:
I am so proud and excited to announce the birth of our daughter Harper Seven Beckham. She weighed a healthy 7lbs 10oz and arrived at 7.55 this morning, here in LA. Victoria is doing really well and her brothers are delighted to have a baby sister xx
HARPER SEVEN?! If seven crime-fighting mockingbird superheroes formed a group, they would call that shit Harper Seven. If Harper's Bazaar created a Cylon based on Caprica Six for some reason, they'd name that ho Harper Seven. If Valerie Harper created her own cocktail using Sandy Duncan's tears and 7up, she'd call that shit Harper 7.
Apparently, they gave Harper the middle name of Seven, because 7 was the number on Becks' old Manchester United jersey. And because Seven was born in the seventh month, during the 7th hour, weighed 7 pounds and was born to a skeleton wrapped in alien skin who inhales 7 calories a week and sacrificed 7 virgins to the devil in exchange for a permanent opposite smile on her face. But we all know the real reason why Posh & Becks named her Harper SEVEN! Because they want to make George Costanza weep!
Or maybe they're just trying to outdo Six LeMeure from Blossom. Didn't work.
Answering the question, "Who in rich bitch hell works out on a treadmill on a yacht in the middle of the sea in Italy?", Fishsticks Paltrow sweat off her lunch of imported Swiss air and white swan eyelashes before slipping her double dollop of GOOP drops into a white bikini and playing in the ocean with her daughter Nectarine, her son Hosea, her brother Jake, her godfather Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw. Unfortunately, Fishy didn't fall off the yacht, develop a case of amnesia, get rescued by a trash boat and collected at the hospital by Kurt Russell who makes her take care of his boy brats, which teaches her a lesson about humility! Nope, that didn't happen.
You know what else didn't happen? SHARK ATTACK! That's not surprising, though, because no shark is going to fuck with her. If a shark wanted to bite something long, hard, white and GOOPY inside, it would eat a whale's dick since that shit doesn't leave an aftertaste of cold pretentiousness.
And I hate myself for getting a 2-second tingle while writing "long, hard, white and GOOPY inside."
Today, Becks is handing out pink cigars (not a euphemism) and yesterday he served up his nalga Tommy Girl-style (bruised, battered, busted and ready for more!) at his soccer game. Coming from someone whose ass looks like a mound of yeast-less pizza dough that has been ran over by a semi-truck after sitting in the sun for 5 days, NO COMMENT! But I still would.
Keeping with this weekend's theme of birthing out unnamed babies, Posh Beckham gracefully lounged across a cashmere-covered hospital bed this morning in L.A. and struck a series of simmering birth poses as doctors wearing scrubs designed by her delivered her first baby girl who slapped the doctor with her pout and scowl eyes. Did you really expect a spawn of Posh to show an emotion other than judgmental indifference? Baby Posh was probably rolling her eyes before she even opened them. But don't worry, Becks provided the "high-pitch screeching like a soprano hyena" soundtrack in the labor room since Baby Posh will only use her vocal cords to hum out a sigh at all the poorly dressed whores around her.
People has all the details you don't care about (aka everything but the name).
The pop star-turned-fashion designer and her soccer star husband David Beckham welcomed a daughter at 7:55 a.m. Sunday in Los Angeles
The parents of three sons – Brooklyn, 12, Romeo, 8½, and Cruz, 6½ – announced they were expecting a girl in March.
"Brooklyn, Romeo and Cruz are excited to welcome their new baby sister to the family," says Beckham spokesperson Jo Milloy.
The girl weighed 7 lbs., 10 oz., and was born at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. No name was announced.
Almost 8 pounds?! Damn. Are we sure People didn't confuse the weight of Baby Posh with the weight of Posh at her fattest? If Posh wore a pair of 5 pound diamond-embedded platinum heels, bitch still wouldn't weigh 8 pounds! They must've weighed Baby Posh while she was wearing her Louboutin bootie heels and giraffe leather capelet.
You know, there is a major part of me that wishes Posh gave birth to the second coming of Shiloh. The quake caused by the tension in her face after her baby dry farts at an Alexander McQueen princess gown would be strong enough to wake Posh's relatives in the Death Eater lair.
Kate Hudson guessed that she was having a baby of the female variety, because a string of hair and a ring said so! But nope, that shit was wrong because she had another baby boy! The pendulum test fails yet again. (Or maybe Kate's son tried to fuck with her by tucking his shit in the womb.)
Kate's spokeswhore tells UsWeekly that Kate and her fiance Matt Bellamy of Muse embraced a bundle of slobber, wet poo and needy coos as Goldie Hawn and the Dalai Lama (who Skyped in from DC) hummed out a chant to center Kate's sacral chakra. This is Kate's second kid and Matt's first.
Kate's rep kept their lips shut about what they named their new son, but her first son's name is Ryder Russell Robinson, so they probably kept with the same initial theme. I'm thinking Bitch Bogus Bellamy, Big Beautiful Bellamy, Bossy Bottom Bellamy, Beep Beep Bellamy, Blue Benetnasch Bellamy, or Bam Bam Bellamy. But if I was them, the only name to choose from would be: Ring Dem Bellamy.
Because the real A-listers and superstars were at the other royal event of the night (The Empress of Lucite's Tupperware and dildo party), Prince William and Duchess Kate had to hang out with the likes of JLo and her mother Guadalupe at last night's BAFTA Brits To Watch event in L.A. JLo was kind enough to pay tribute to Prince William by wearing a bald spot gown that showed off Skeletor's favorite part of her body to do lines of dried virgin blood off of.
Even though Lupe Lopez slipped on the lard of elegance that dripped off of JLo, not everyone was hypnotized by her beauty. That gold BAFTA mask is definitely frowning with his eyes, because he's about 2 inches away from losing his nose to JLo's hongray hongray culo.
And hopefully, JLo's taste for exquisite cut-outs inspired Kate Middleton to bring The Slut Dress out of retirement and onto the royal stage.
This Zack Morris tattoo that somebody got on their leg (or maybe that's a gordito-sized hairy shaft)! Personally I think that if you're going to get an ode to Saved By The Bell inked into your skin for eternity (or until you sober up and can afford laser tattoo removal), you should go with a portrait of Ramona from The Real Housewives of NYC screaming "TURTLE TIME" with a bubble of Lisa Turtle's face floating above her head, but a zombie Zack Morris that really looks like a freshly shaved Tuan Anh is my second choice. The 80s really are my favorite fucking drug.
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