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Stepford Katie showed up to her daily “pap show” with Suri today wearing the exact same orange cult dress! Suri specifically told that dumb bitch not to wear the orange one. Katie’s obviously got barley dust in her ears, but Suri will clean that shit out with computer dust later.

You know, I was thisclose to dressing as Suri for Halloween, but I get cold in the bones easily and don’t want to run around without a coat on. Besides, I’d just end up looking LIKE THIS. That’s exactly what Tommy Girl looks like when he plays dress up in Suri’s clothes.

Douche-faced Mark Ronson (yes, I’ve fallen out of love) worked one of Diddy’s Jizz Parties in the Hamptons recently and he took advantage of the bowl of delicious brownies that was being passed around. Mark claims he didn’t know the brownies were filled with scrumptious chronic.

Mark tells Page Six, “I hadn’t eaten all day, and I was starving. They were coming around with this bowl of brownies, and I grabbed three of them and just started scarfing them down. After that, every lyric sounded like it was the Cookie Monster yelling in my ear, and I started feeling really shitty, but I had to play through the set. I couldn’t just go up to Puffy and say, ‘Sorry, I ate a shit-load of hash brownies, I can’t do your White Party.‘ ”

What does he expect? Everything at one of Doody’s parties is probably laced with something. In addition to the pot brownies, he has meth pigs in a blanket, coke and cheese tarts and MDMA turkish cigars. That’s the only way you can deal with Diddy’s circle jerk of a soiree.

I probably would have taken a dozen brownies from the bowl, walked across the street, called in an “anonymous” drug tip and then enjoyed my delicious chocolate leaf goodies while watching the po-po take Doody away in cuffs.

Tila Tequila’s partner in pussay, Courtenay Semel, got into a little altercation in August with a security guard at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas which led to her beating his ass. The beaten down security guard, Jaroslaw Jarczok, filed a lawsuit in Los Angeles yesterday asking for unspecified damages.

In the papers, Coleslaw (that’s my nickname for him) says a drunken Nay Nay got all mouthy with him at around 4 in the morning. She got so out of hand that he had to cuff her ass. Nay Nay didn’t feel like getting kinky, so she allegedly punched him in the face.

Now, most bitches would probably follow that up by screaming “Take that, motherfucker!” or “That’s right bitch!” Nay Nay decided to go a different route. She shouted at the dude, “Do you even know who I am, fucking idiot?…Google me, you dumb fuck.” She gets a 9 from me! She would’ve gotten a perfect 10 if she called him a “dumb cunt” instead.

Yesterday, I wrote about the £100,000 fairytale wedding of 16-year-old Missy Quinn and 17-year-old Thomas. Missy’s daddy paves driveways for a living, but he somehow managed to pay for this lavish affair complete with her £16,000 gorgeous wedding bikini-dress-thing.

Here’s a few more pictures from Closer Magazine of the wedding of the year. These pictures just confirm that this is the way all weddings were meant to be. I need to track down the Quinn’s caravan, because I must beg them to adopt me into their family. I have to be around this kind of glamour and elegance 24-hours a day.

There’s probably an extra black hole in the earth’s core from the intense glamour rays this wedding created. I’m surprised the world didn’t break in two.

And don’t show Chris Hansen or Peta the third thumbnail below.

Last night on Stylista (yes, I’m watching that trash), one of the gays, Jason, had a complete freak out, because he was so afraid that one of his fucktard teammates would call him out during judging.

It just started out as a rash (it always does) and quickly turned into a full-blown, pube-ripping, tongue biting, panic attack! I mean, this bitch was on the floor having some sort of exorcism! Some hos came to his aid, but other skanks (like that cunt Megan) just sat back and watched. They could have hit him with a dick or shoved a valium up his cooch! Something! The dude was hysterical. I shouldn’t talk, because that’s how I get when the bartender cuts me off at the bar.

Instead of freaking out, Jason should have taken his angst out on that cuntwitch Megan! I just want to smoosh her face into a piece of Play-Do so that I can mold it into a heart and then stomp all over it! She makes me so angry! Every time she comes on the screen, I want to take a dump in my favorite pair of shoes as punishment for willfully watching her fuckery!

In the end, the ambulance people came and carted Jason away to the nearest loony bin. No, he was just taken to the hospital, but showed up right before judging. I was expecting Anne Slowey to say to him, “You’re such a drama queen!” That’s what Miranda Priestley would’ve said.