There are a million things Lady Copy Paste should be sued for including (but not limited to) copyright infringement, grand theft thievery, illegally cloning Madge's career, creating a hybrid strain of yeast infection and salmonella (yeastonella?) and viciously decapitating an entire tribe of Kermits, but one of her former assistants has chosen to sue her Mermaid Touring Company for being forced to do the job she was hired to do without getting paid overtime.
The Hollywood Reporter says that Jennifer O'Neill was overworked by CaCa and slaved away doing all sorts of fucked up shit during 13 months of the Monster Ball World Tour. The fucked up shit Jennifer was forced to do did not including breaking into Grace Jones' house to Xerox copy her entire wardrobe. Jennifer wasn't even asked to ice CaCa's tuck or steal an outfit for her off of a sailor nun's back (see pics of CaCa at JFK below). Jennifer claims in her lawsuit that she had to act as CaCa's personal alarm clock to keep her on schedule and once had to hand her naked ass a towel when she came out of the shower. Yes, Slave Master CaCa forced Jennifer to do regular personal assistant shit. CaCa is a regular old Mister. Although, if I had to hand CaCa's naked carcass a towel, I'd probably slip face first and fall on my tortured eyeballs to stop them from burning.
But the biggest complaint in Jennifer's lawsuit is that she was never paid overtime. Jennifer was paid $75,000 for the tour, but she says she's owed more than $380,000 for 7,168 hours of unpaid overtime. When I try to do the math in my head, my brain curls into a fetal position and I automatically want to doodle pictures of peens on a Pee Chee folder just like I did in junior high math class. So I had to do the math on a calculator and if Jennifer is telling the truth, then she worked around 138 hours of overtime in one week. That means the bitch barely closed her eyes to slip into a sleep and her veins must naturally pump out meth if she was able to go on that long without sleeping. It does make sense, though. You try sleeping while CaCa's loudly chanting to the Illuminati demon lords in the next room.
The court has heard all the facts and we hereby declare that CaCa is GUILTY! Take away her copy paste function and string the bitch up!
Dido's name is an “l” away from being Dildo and her music has always sounded like a white girl Sade to me, so I had not one bad thing to say about her ass until now. The only esteemed news source of truth I trust, the Daily Mail, says that Dido birthed out a baby boy last July and she has named him Stanley. As in Stan, as in that Enimen song about a crazed murderous stalker, which samples her song, Thank You. I see what you did there, Dido! I also see her little son Stanley cooing this out in his crib: “Aaaaand Iiiiiiii want to thank you….for giving me the worst naaaaame of my liiii-iiiii-iiiiife.”
According to the Daily Mail, Baby Stan is Dido’s first baby friend with her husband of 2 years Rohan Gavin. They’ve been living a shush life somewhere in North London together.
Okay, I was joking about the “one bad thing to say” shit. Maybe it’s because I’m running on 2 hours of sleep and prosecco bubbles are powering whatever is left of my brain, but this shit is pulling the laughs out from my ass. Dido named her son Stan knowing that every bitch would think she named him after a song about an Eminem stalker. I’m sure Dido and Baby Stan will laugh about this as soon as he’s old enough to understand fuckery. Let’s just hope they aren’t laughing about it while she’s tied up in his trunk and he’s about to drive the car into the river.
Faye Dunaway - Yea, yea, Network, Chinatown and The Great Gatsby are all fine, but everybody knows Faye's greatest works are Dunston Checks In, The Temp, Supergirl and her judging spot on The Starlet. Remember that shit, where Faye and Vivica Fox judged a bunch of wanna be actresses for a role on One Tree Hill? The girl that won ended up working at the American Girl cafe, last I heard.
Anyway, Faye is known for being a grade A bitch! She left this voicemail to some guy a few years ago, because she was pissed at a reporter for just wanting to speak the truth and talk about what
a piece of shit beautiful film Mommie Dearest was. This is a Kwanzaa gift to you all!
Jared Leto (40)
Beth Behrs (26)
Chris Daughtry (32)
Tiffany Brissette (37)
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Lars Ulrich (48)
Temuera Morrison (51)
Tina Wesson (51)
David Sedaris (55)
John Walsh (66)
Jane Lapotaire (67)
Phil Spector (72)
Caroll Spinney aka Big Bird (78)
Donald Moffat (81)
You hiding out in the back of your closet while eating ham wrapped around broken pieces of candy cane to keep the dealing-with-your-family-induced drunk barfs down is a holiday tradition and so is me posting pictures of Simon Cowell's luscious German Shepherd tits. Every Christmas, Ryan Gaycrest's main homegirl goes over to Barbados to feed the stray island dogs with the 100% whole leche that shoots out of his nipples holes when he flexes his dough ball chichis.
Don't you just want to get naked and roll all around Simon's fluffy rug breasts, or do whatever the hell you do on a bearskin rug? I was about to say, don't you want you to titty fuck Simon, but how are you going to explain those rug burns on your genitals to your free clinic technician?
It really wouldn't be the holidays without a visit from Simon's double calzones of furry fun. And with that, I wish all of your asses a Merry Christmas. Or as they say in Italy, Buon Natale! Or as I say when I butcher that shit, Bone Natalie!
Nestor, The Long-Eared Christmas Donkey! Those stop motion animations from the 1970s are pretty much my personal bible when it comes to all things Christmas, so to me Nestor is the reason why celebrate Christmas in the first place! If it wasn't for Nestor's Tommy Lee condom-sized ears, there would be no Nestor. If there was no Nestor, then there would be no Tilly the Angel who looks like an inbred Ashlee Simpson impersonator. If there was no Tilly, then there would be no an angel to tell a bitch to use his long dong ears to hear the sounds that will guide him on a path that's straight and true. If there wasn't a bitch who used his long dong ears to hear the sounds that will guide on a path that's straight and true, then Mary's knocked up ass would've never gotten to Bethlehem. If Mary's knocked up ass never got to Bethlehem, then Jesus would've been born in the middle of absolutely nowhere. If Jesus would've been born in the middle of absolutely nowhere, then we probably wouldn't celebrate his birfday by buying each other Starbucks gift cards and getting so fucked up drunk that the bottom of the Christmas tree seems like a perfectly comfortable place to take a damn nap.
So we should thank Nestor for EVERYTHING! Do a shot of something mind altering out of an extra-long lady condom in Nestor's honor and then sing this song:
Merry Christmas to one slut and to all sluts!
Annie Lennox (57)
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CCH Pounder (59)
Karl Rove (61)
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Barbara Mandrell (63)
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Jimmy Buffett (65)
Phil Spector (71)
I don't know about you, but if I was a junior high school girl circa 1987, I would be experiencing my first downtown moistening after seeing these pics of New Jersey's finest - Jon Bon Jovi - showing off the bod. Can you tell I've had an entire bottle of champagne, two White Russians, and three shots of Bailey's in CHOCOLATE CUPS YOU CAN EAT? It's like a fat drunk's greatest fantasy - a shot of booze YOU JUST STUFF IN YOUR MAW. And to the commentator who snarked that Boston can't be a drinking city because we don't have a legal happy hour - think again, chief. We work around that shit.
Jon is shooting us down in a blaze of glory by showing off his middle-aged millionaire bod on the beach at St. Bart's. Rich people have a lot of time on their hands. So much time that photographing kelp is a cherished pastime. Seriously, all Jon Bon has to do is tour every five years and shit out an album with a passable adult contemporary single and money falls on his face. That's a hot job.
I totally thought he was a fagatron. Note - I like big, fat, hairy man ass and am myself a "fagatron". That's right, I'm taking back the word "fagatron" for the gay community and making it's power work for us! Oh, dear.
Just like Michael K. signed off to me with a "love you long time" in an e-mail this morning, and I was like - wow - half-Asian people can do that without sounding racist. If I did that, I would sound like Dick #1 or a villain from a Dick Tracy cartoon.
Here's some pics of Penn Badgley's "Muppet-looking ass" (TM - Michael K. in the aforementioned e-mail) with the object of Jodie Foster's Captain Save-A-Ho dyke vigilantism from The Brave One. They're hanging out in Miami. That movie rocks. As she kills more people, she looks more lesbian. It was the role she was born to
Good for Penn for eschewing the product to let it all air out on the beach. Truth be told, this shit happens to me too. If I don't risk cancer by putting so much shit in my hair that patches of my scalp burn and insects are caught and drown in the mess, I have 80s puffy helmet hair. It doesn't grow long, IT EXPANDS. Like the end of a TAMPON. It's humiliating. I support the fagotron. Zoe Kraviz is going to lose shit in that, though. You know, besides her dignity for bearding for the guy who's fucking Marcia Cross' Desperate Housewives son. She isn't surreptitiously bouncing on his dick under the water like some of you dirty bitches think. They're both tinkling at the same time like giddy girlfriends and giggling over it.
Shit, that hair is gonna topple him. She is way too petite to be able to lift him up if that happens. They're gonna have to call a cabana boy and then Penn's gonna wanna suck him off. Awkward.
Pacific Coast News
And she deserves every cent she ripped out of those sugartits. The divorce papers between jacuzzi suckjob enthusiast/psychotic racist Mel Gibson and wife Robyn Gibson (well, she now goes by Robyn "I Got Mine" Moore) have been signed, sealed, and delivered.
Ladies - you can stick around while he starts his own Jews Killed Jesus church. You can stick around while he insists on knowing if the cops pulling him over for drunk-drivin' spin a dreidel during the holidays and refers to them by their swingers club code names. And you can stick around when he makes shitshows like this. But once he knocks up a slightly more refined, orchestral version of Octomom and then gets his completely crackers rants at her recorded and played all over the world (and then reportedly knocks up TWO OTHER WOMEN) - shit's over. Turn the jets off, pull the tarp over that particular hot tub, and go shopping, sweetie.
TMZ says that the Gibsons net worth is a little less than 900 million. And there wasn't a prenup. They didn't friggin' have friggin' prenups in 1970s Australia (cue a soft chuckle from Ms. Moore)!
Have you seen The Road Warrior? They probably got married on a surfboard and cracked cans of Fosters over each other's foreheads instead of exchanging rings. Shit was rugged.
The Gibson are said to have negotiated the money biz for over a year. And bitch got HALF.
If you need Robyn, she will be building a Jewish homosexual disco next to Mel's church that's made out of rubies and champagne flutes, and flashing her new pussy tattoo ("$425,000,000!") at him from off the balcony. Think of how many of those weird Queen Victoria collection-plaid flower collar- "we're not fucking tonight" hell dresses and 1990's Susan Powter-butch bitch cuts you could afford with that take!