A couple of days ago, Sweetas brought us the news that Aaron Carter opened his mouth on the face that meth built about his time with Michael Jackson, and what he said made the glass on Detective La Toya's monocle fog up and crack. Daphne Barak from OK! Magazine Australia alleged that Aaron told her the late Michael Jackson fed him wine and cocaine when he was 15. But wait, Aaron tells TMZ that he never claimed that MJ sedated his 15-year-old body with the bad shit and dropped a red wine waterfall down his froat.
"Nothing was said that was reported."
The Ghost of Justin Bieber's future pointed to a YouTube video of the interview where he doesn't mention anything about MJ feeding him coke. But Daphne stands by her story and still claims that Aaron told her "that Michael Jackson gave him alcohol and cocaine while he was 15. He also said that Michael invited him to sleep in his room, and when Aaron woke up at 5:00 AM, he found Michael on his bed."
This is absolutely ridiculous, offensive and is making me do the moonwalk towards Daphne's face so I can slap the wrong out of her! MJ never gave Aaron coke or wine. Why would MJ ever do such a thing? That's not only illegal, but it goes against ever fiber of MJ's moral being. How dare Daphne throw those hurtful accusations around! We all know that MJ only served Jesus Juice and the White Dust of Christ to minors. DUH!
via WOW Report
What better way is there to thank my guest bloggers, Sweetas and Jack-n-the-Hat, than with a whole lot of red, white, blue and ginge? (Put down your invoices Sweetas and Jack, that question was rhetorical.) There isn't a better way. So this is how I am giving my thanks to Sweetas and Jack for taking time out from talking shit and getting drunk to talk shit and get drunk for Dlisted while I was out showing my auntie and mom the sights of New York City ("On your right, is Williamsburg's famous Mt. Trash Bags and on your left is our proud dirty condom and dog shit art installation." - me to my auntie).
I am freak of the control variety and am addicted to shade throwing so I didn't get away from my laptop as much as I would've liked to. But when I did, I could count on Sweetas and Jack to be your substitute shit talkers, and they get an A grade for me. They would've gotten an A+, but there was an uncomfortable incident involving a drunk e-mail and a pictures of external organs I still can't positively identify (I'm not naming names).
When I have to undergo an entire plastic surgery makeover (skin dying, pec implants, bicep transplants, hair plugs on my ass cheeks, a washboard installed under my gut, etc....) so that Mah Boo Anderson Cooper can wink at me on the street just once (he still won't), I can count on Sweetas and Jack to fill in for me. So let's all raise a bong for them!
And this post is not only a gift to Sweetas and Jack, it's also an early Fourth of July gift to all of you. Pull up a lawn chair and feast your eyes on the freckled fireworks show on Phoebe Price's white night skin.
This spread for the Appalachian version of Gourmet Magazine featuring Variety sugar and Duncan Hines frosting IS your Fourth of July sparkler!
Thelma Madine - Star My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, my favorite new fashion designer and the fairy godmother that makes a Gypsy and Irish Traveler bride's dreams come true by turning them into a humongous pink chiffon queef pushed out of a Swarovski vagina!
In honor of the glorious UK masterpiece My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding ending here in the US last night, I felt it was only right for me to honor the artist who whips elegance and sophistication into a shower puff wedding dress for a 15-year-old Gypsy girl who is about to sign her life away to her husband. Thelma Madine isn't a Gypsy or Traveler herself, but she feels at one with them even though they regularly lie to her face about venues (because if a venue finds out your ass is a Gypsy, they will crush your fairytale wedding dreams by canceling your booking). Thelma Madine is loyal to the Gypsy bride and will do whatever she asks even if that means building a bodice that will cut scars into a bitch's skin or accidentally set a ho on fire by wrapping Christmas tree lighting under the skirt. And on a different note...
MBFGW was a little bittersweet. The bitterness came from watching 17-year-old Gypsy and Travelers girl dress up like fairy sluts but not being able to be actual sluts. Gypsy girls don't fuck around before they get married, so the satin panties with cooch cut-outs they wear go to waste. It's a damn shame that they can only play a whore in public but not actually be one :( It's also a little sad watching a 15-year-old girl make a sad face of uncertainty when talking about how her married life will consist of cleaning her trailer and serving her man husband.
But the sweetness came when a bride orgasmed in the face with happiness when her wedding fantasy was brought to life as she waddled down the aisle in a fire hazard gown that could fit all the Duggars underneath its skirt. Seriously, most of the weddings looked like what would squirt out if you popped a gonorrhea wart on Disney's Magic Kingdom. Absolutely perfect. Oh, how I'll miss MBFGW and Thelma Madine.
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