The legendary mother of all….BETTY WHITE!!!
There are no words to perfectly express my love for Betty White, so I made her this flawlessly executed Mother’s Day card. Don’t be jealous of my skills!
After watching her triumphant debut on SNL last night, I sat in my little plastic orange chair at the craft table and put together this card for Betty using construction paper, Elmer’s and safety scissors. The teacher still gave me a fail for my cutting skills, but she should try scissoring while stoned (that may or may not be a euphemism). It’s not as easy as you think.
If I could I would also send her a bouquet of pink paper mache flowers and a fake coupon valid for one free pancake breakfast prepared by me. Although, I should really send her a carton full of menudo soup, because you know she’s broke off and dozed off today from getting crunk with Jay-Z at the after-party.
Happy Mama Je’e’s Day to the Internet’s mother Betty White and to all the other mothers out there! Don’t do shit today. Make your chirruns light your bong, stir your cocktails and slap themselves in the face for you. Don’t lift a finger. You deserve it!
Clint Holmes (64)
Ceiling Eyes (25)
Rosario Dawson (31)
Andrew W.K. (31)
Chris Diamantopoulos (35)
Ghostface Killah (40)
David Gahan (48)
John Corbett (49)
Amy Hill (57)
Alley Mills (59)
Billy Joel (61)
Candice Bergen (64)
James L. Brooks (70)
Glenda Jackson (74)
Albert Finney (74)
Mike Wallace (92)
Loki’s forever soulmate Mickey Rourke, who just finished promoting Iron Man 2 with Fishsticks Paltrow (hint hint), says most movie stars can kiss his face (which is worse than kissing his ass) because he doesn’t have a sliver of respect for them. Mickey wouldn’t even respect them if they were covered in fluffy fur, yapped at the wind, tossed their own salad and shat out butt pieces the size of a thumbnail. That’s saying a lot.
Mickey tells Parade Magazine (via HuffPo): “You can be less than mediocre and be a fucking movie star. I have respect for very few actors and actresses. Some of them get a lot of acclaim but just because their movie made $200 million at the box office, they still suck. I got no respect for them and I used to let them know it. It was important for me to put that aside and go, ‘You know what? This is a business. If you kiss the right ass and you get lucky on a movie or two, you could last 10 years.’ So, now, I just keep my mouth shut and pet my chihuahuas.”
Of course Mickey has to keep his mouth shut, because if he doesn’t those asshole stars won’t let him be in their movies and then how will he keep his little dog friends in the lifestyle they are accustomed to? Bedazzled dog bowls, canine anal bleaching and doggy nipple massages don’t pay for themselves!
The other day I microwaved a leftover bean burrito in a Styrofoam container too long and my apartment smelled like a meth lab explosion in a Del Taco. This is probably what it smelled like at the LG Arena in Birmingham, England after Alien Princess RiRi’s coochie burned rubber during her show. Or shall I say, the rubber burned her coochie. How. Dreadful.
I’m all for going around looking like a second-tier stripper from Tron, but not if it’s going to cause harm to your labia. Latex burns on the chocha is not something you want to explain to your nurse practitioner.
Bethenny Frankel of The Real Chickenheads of NYC gave birth to a girl Hoppy (or as Jill Zarin probably says “a hobby“) earlier today, a month ahead of her due date. Bethenny and her husband Jason Hoppy named their new baby friend Jill Zarin Is A Fucking Monster Hoppy. If only. They really named her Bryn Hoppy. Jill Zarin Is A Fucking Monster Hoppy has a better ring to it, honestly.
Bethenny’s rep (aka her assistant who always uses a breakfast table as a desk) issued this statement to People:
“Bethenny and Jason are proud to welcome their new baby girl, Bryn Hoppy, born at 8 a.m. . . . in New York City. She is a 4 lb. 12 oz., healthy baby. Bryn, mom, dad and [their dog] Cookie are all very happy.”
I know 4lbs sounds tiny, but that’s a couple more pounds less than Alex McCord weighs and she’s completely healthy and mentally stable. Actually, really bad example. Scratch that.
And somewhere in New York, Jill Zarin is crying and moaning to her husband Bobby about how Bethenny didn’t call her as soon as the first drop of baby juice came out of her snatch. If Jill’s mouth goes dry from whining so much, she should lick the grease off of Bobby’s hair to get right again.
Okay, I won’t even finish that thought, because then you’ll take a 3-hour tour on the S.S. Minnow and purposely crash onto my island… Anyway, here’s the true Miss Castaway (sorry, Gladys the gorilla) barbecuing her cutlets on the beach yesterday.
The truth is, Phoebe Price doesn’t need the sun to keep her warm and making her skin tingle. That’s what the paparazzi’s flash is for. They heard PP’s siren call (which sounds like this) and came running. And since PP is an international supermodel in every sense she came prepared to pose with all sorts of inanimate objects she found in a dumpster behind The Dollar Tree. Keeping fucking that camera, PP!