I can hear the Xander Jones truthers now: “YOU MEAN ”A PARENT FOR THE SECOND TIME’, RIGHT? HE’S ALREADY SOMEBODY’S PARENT! YOU CAN’T DENY THE EVIDENCE!”
The Year of the Diaper Genie has once again bestowed upon us another poopy blessing, this time to the home of Kenyan marathon fuckers Olivia Wilde and Jason Sudeikis. On Wednesday night, Olivia announced she’d evicted the tiny freeloader living rent-free in her uterus (I literally just pictured a fetus in sweatpants eating Doritos and laughed for a solid 60 seconds, which tells me I should probably cool it on the morning booze) by tweeting a vaguely-artsy picture of her snuggin’ on her new baby son with the caption:
Ladies and gentlemen, Otis Alexander Sudeikis has LEFT the building! (I’m the building)
First off, congratulations Olivia and Jason, mazel to you, babies are a gift, life is precious, etc. Now that that’s out of the way, Otis Sudeikis? Ain’t nobody got time for all those S sounds, especially somebody with a bit of a lisp like me. Every time I try to say “Otis Sudeikis”, I sound like a drunk Cindy Brady (although it’s not really Otis’s fault; I always sound like a drunk Cindy Brady). At least they were kind enough to throw Alexander in there to give my mouth a 4-syllable break from snake hissing. Thanks guys, I appreciate it.
Alright, now back to analyzing that black and white picture of baby Otis. “See that curve at the top of his ear? You’ll notice that Xander Jones shares an almost identical-looking ear curve. Coincidence? OF COURSE NOT!!!”
For the last 2 months, I’d say a little prayer on my E.T. doll every time I saw a picture of Drew Barrymore because it felt like she had been pregnant for-ev-er and I was starting to get worried she was the victim of some weird gypsy curse that made her permanently pregnant (which is a punk move, even for the most vengeful of curse-throwing gypsies). Thankfully there was no curse (or Drew broke the curse, will update with details as soon as they’re released from www.gypsycurses.net) because People says that on Tuesday, Drew and her husband Will Kopelman became the parents of another little girl, who they’ve named Frankie Barrymore Kopelman. Drew and Will are already the parents of 19-month-old Olive Kopelman.
For someone who always struck me as a bit spacey and new age-y, Drew has managed to give her kids some pretty normal names. I was certain that after playing it safe with Olive she’d pull a 180 with the second baby and pick something bonkers like Moon Glow or Peaceful, but Frankie is cute. I especially like Frankie and Olive together; it sounds like a mid-range Italian chain restaurant. Frankie and Olive is where you go when there’s too long of a wait at Olive Garden. “2 hours? Oh forget it, I’m not waiting 2 hours. We’ll go to Frankie and Olive. I think I got a 2-for-1 coupon somewhere in my purse.”
A strange things keeps happening… Human women are still willingly fucking Pete “Dreamboat” Doherty without lining their coochie tunnels with Tyvek and covering themselves with liquid antibiotics before squeezing into two full-body condoms specially made by NASA. Human chicks with working brains are still letting Dreamboat bust raw nuts up in ‘em and I’m guessing those chicks are the same kind of chicks who fap while watching zombie porn. Dreamboat tells the Israeli newspaper Ynet (via Crave) that he’s into reuniting with The Libertines, but only because his checking account has got tumbleweeds blowing through it, his wallet’s only got an IOU receipt from his crack dealer in it and he’s got ANOTHER mouth to feed.
A couple of days ago, a map of Hyde Park went up on The Libertines’ Facebook page and some hos took that to mean that they were going to perform a reunion show there. Dreamy says that they got an offer to reunite and he had to say yes to it, because he’s so desperate for money that he’s about to suck off his dealer for a half-smoked rock (really, who hasn’t been there?).
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to even tell you this, but we were offered to reform the Libertines for a show this July in Hyde Park. I got the call just yesterday. I said yes. The thing is when I think about it now it was kind of a strange answer because I think in most days if you asked me the same question I would say no, but recently I tried to call Carl (Barat) and couldn’t reach him. Not long ago I listened to The Libertines songs on YouTube and had a burst of nostalgia so I said what the heck, and then they told me how much they will pay us and I cannot lie to you I couldn’t say no, at least not in my state right now.”
Dreamy is really, really hard up for cash, because he just found out that living in this world is a third child who will one day take his daddy’s old crack pipe to school on Show and Tell day.
“I was recently called to family law court after a young girl I knew had told me I was the father of her baby. I have a year and a half old girl and I need to pay a lot of alimony, I’m in debt. It’s very complicated for me to say no right now. I have financial problems.”
Dreamy has a 10-year-old son named Astile with singer Lisa Moorish and a 2-year-old daughter named Aisling with a South African model.
If Dreamy really needs a quick check, he should submit his body to science for testing. Scientists can find out how is it possible that his liver and the rest of his internal organs haven’t melted and dribbled out of his asshole by now. While they’re in there, they can also study his drunk jizz to find out how it’s possible that they’re able to find a stranger’s ovaries while they’re boozed up and high on who knows what. I mean, when I’m really drunk and stoned, I can barely find the toilet I use every day, but yet Dreamy’s drunk jizz seem to always find their way. He truly is a freak of nature.
The last time we checked in with the former harmless booze-chugging trash rat turned insane anti-Semitic conspiracy theorist known as Tila Tequila, she had sort of disappeared before the release of there second sex tape. Naturally, I just assumed she’d been kidnapped by underground Illuminati lizard-people or an alien possessed by Hitler’s ghost, but as it turns out, she was drying out somewhere. GOOD. If Tila Tequila needed anything, it was for a group of professionals to get her off the sauce, because she was turning into the definition of RIGHT FUCKED UP.
And on Friday, Tila announced on Facebook that along with being clean and sober, she’s also knocked up with a tiny tequila worm. Tila says that she’s 10 weeks pregnant, and she’s already created a new Twitter account where she goes by the name Baby Mama Tila. So far there’s no word on who the baby daddy is, so for now let’s assume it’s an Illuminati lizard (they’re notoriously virile).
Tila is has been known to cry wolf when it comes to announcing pregnancies, so I might need more than a swollen tum-tum and a pair of pregnancy titties to convince me that Tila is actually with worm. I won’t be convinced that she is actually pregnant until I see a picture 6 months from now of a giant-eyed baby poking its head out of her crazy coochie, holding a newspaper from that morning in one hand and a hand-written affidavit in the other that reads “I, Tila’s little baby, swear that I was conceived in, grew in, share DNA with, and am now exiting Tila Tequila.” And even then, I’ll still probably be throwing side-eyes and wondering just how long Tila and that super-smart hired baby have been in cahoots for.
Step off, JWoww’s fetus! If anyone is going to fuck up her clinically-cultivated body, it’s a strip-mall surgeon named Dr. Rad Plastixxx with $199.99 worth of injectable Silicone-Style® liquid vinyl and a rudimentary understanding of shapes.
The long-lost half-sister of SNL’s former porn stars was just starting to perfect her Fun House mirror reflection before she became knocked up, and now the most tragic thing has happened: JWoww’s growing fetus is fucking around with her finely-cultivated hotness. I know – the tragedy. JWoww told Us Weekly that she’s currently knocked up with a selfish seamonkey-looking hotness hater and, while you can’t really tell (because her eyebrows no longer move freely enough to indicate displeasure) she’s not happy about it:
“She loves being pregnant right now and I fucking hate it,” Farley told Us exclusively about herself and Snooki. “I’m not a fan of pregnancy right now with my thighs touching and my boobs changing, but I know it will be worth it and hopefully I get back to that really quickly.”
This is why someone needs to publish an updated edition of What To Expect When You’re Expecting called What To Expect When You’re A Jennifer Coolidge Wax Figure. Then again, it might not be the growing fetus that’s fucking around with her body; it could be the result of all that discount silicone starting to rot and decompose after reaching its expiry date.
Here’s more of alagance and saphistication defined at the MTV Movie Awards on Sunday night wearing a dress that would be deemed “too cheap looking” by the costume department of Dancing with the Polish Stars:
Mike Myers (aka “Wayne Campbell” if you’re in your 40s, “Austin Powers” if you’re in your 30s, “Shrek” if you’re in your 20s, and “Some dude who might be wearing John Travolta’s hair” to anyone currently studying for SATs) shagged a baby into his wife Kelly Tisdale 9 months ago, and Us Weekly says that a tiny baby girl popped out of Kelly earlier today. Mike and Kelly already have a 2-year-old son that they named Spike Myers (which is what you get if you put “Mike Myers” into an Ed Hardy name generator), so I was crossing my fingers that they’d name Baby #2 something equally SoCal, like Blaze or Flayme, but they named her Sunday Molly Myers. Personally, I like the name Sunday Molly, because it sounds like something written on Miley Cyrus’s drug to-do list.
Friday: Freon, Weed
Plus with a name like “Sunday Molly”, she’d make a killing in college selling drugs (you gotta make it easy for the dumb ones to remember who they buy from). Then again, I’m talking about 20 years in the future, so molly will probably be replaced by “future coke” or “robot speed” or something called “bleep-blorp”. Either way, mazel to you both, Mike and Kelly.
“Why do all of a sudden I feel like I’m pregnant??” – the lady sitting directly in front of Kevin Federline. And she should know better! Legend has it that just being in the same area as K-Fed can get a girl knocked up (he’s that good). It’s like they always say: the only part of K-Fed that works is his sperm.
Kevin Federline, professional baby daddy and one-half of the gift to the universe that was Britney and Kevin: Chaotic, announced yesterday on Instagram that his wife, Victoria Prince, gave birth to their second baby girl this weekend. Baby #6 joins a growing collection of children that includes Kevin and Victoria’s 2-year-old daughter Jordan, his sons with Britney Spears, Sean and Jaden, and his children with Shar Jackson, Kori and Kaleb. As someone who has 0 kids, I just clutched by birth control pills a little tighter.
But now that he’s met his two-baby limit with Victoria, does this mean it’s time for K-Fed to mosey on down the ol’ dusty baby daddy trail and find a new lucky lady to bust a bareback nut into? Or will he stick with Victoria to create more soldiers for the lazy dirtbag’s version of the Brangelina child army (their motto: “Semper Sweatpants”). Or maybe, just maybe, someone with a kind heart and an extra $50 will drive him to the vet and finally get him neutered (fingers. fucking. crossed).
After much speculation (ie. me inspecting a picture of her stomach with a magnifying glass for 0.4 seconds before announcing “Meh, who cares”) the party rat formerly known as Snooki has confirmed to Us Weekly that she and her fiancé Jionni LaValle rubbed their spaghetti and meatballs together hard enough to knock her up. So blast an air horn and slam a Jägerbomb in honor of Baby Smush-Smush #2 (what do you mean it’s too early? Stop being a pussy, bro – chug that shit!)
The little orange Tic Tac in a busted Ariel wig told Us Weeky that her and Jionni have been trying for their second Ewok pup since November and she’s due in the fall, right around the time of Snooki’s wedding on Endor. They don’t plan on moving the wedding up or postponing it till after the baby is born, so stay tuned for 7 months from now when I bring you the headline: Snooki Says “Fuck It” And Gives Birth In The Middle Of Her Wedding.
So Snooki has one baby already and one on the way, JWoww is having a baby, Pauly D is a dad. What the fuck is going on?? I always thought the Jersey Shore roaches would be fist pumping and slamming body shots well into their 40s, and instead they’re building tree houses and cracking tins of Beefaroni for lunch. What’s next, The Situation knocking up his Ab Rocket? No, that’s impossible; steroids have surely killed any life down there. The Duck Phone has a better chance at announcing his bid for governor of New Jersey than The Situation does of getting something pregnant (thank god).
A little over a month ago, Matt Rutler’s (seen above making the douche facial expression of a wallet miner who is living the KFed dream) gold digging destiny was fulfilled when his sugar mama Xtina announced that she can stop eating nothing but vapors and lettuce edges to stay skinny, because she’s knocked up again. Now People is saying that the fetus growing in Xtina’s womb is a girl. Well, I hope that baby girl doesn’t like the feeling of air touching her skin, because six seconds after she’s pulled out of her mom’s body, she’s going to be dipped in orange paint and rolled in metal powder.
People says that during a show in Malaysia today, Xtina told the audience that Matt Rutler’s ticket to NeverWorkAgainVille is growing in her body and then she told everyone she’s having a girl. Max, Xtina’s son with Bat Boy, is already 6 years old. We’re all old.
As soon as Xtina announced that she’s having a girl, the headquarters of Spanx, MAC, Coppertone and Sally Beauty all popped the champagne and busted out a scene straight out of Wolf of Wall Street. Glitter cannons went, money fell from the ceiling and they partied as though their penny stock just closed at $48! But you know, they would’ve had a reason to celebrate even if she was having a boy. Because no matter if she’s having a boy a girl, Xtina’s going to wrap that baby in a Spanx onesie and paint it up with so much orange and red that it’s going to look like the inside of an adorable calzone.
You know, I bet Baby Orangina Rouge Aguilera is going to grow up to be a tomboy who hates makeup. Oh shit. Saying that Xtina’s daughter is probably going to hate make-up is definitely the meanest thing I’ve ever said about Xtina. Xtina would rather her baby be homely than hate make-up, because at least she can pretty her up with make-up!
And a single tear was wiped away from the collective faces of obsessive internet fanboys everywhere (in case you’re wondering, that tear smells like generic brand Mountain Dew and basement). But they also didn’t name their babies Turkmenistan Daffodil and Uzbekistan Amaryllis (FYI: Michael K’s tears smell like Flaming Hot Cheetos, lube, and the giant novelty jug of vodka from BevMo). No, Elsa Pataky announced on Instagram that she and Thor Hemsworth named their 4-day-old twin boys Tristan and Sasha. No middle names? Quickly nerds! Start an online petition! There’s still a chance we could get Thor and Loki!
So Chris and Elsa’s three kids are named India, Tristan, and Sasha, which means they’re either huge fans of melodramatic CW shows about affluent Malibu teens, porn stars not named Nikki, or unisex haircuts from 1998. Either way, if they ever decided to open a fancy faux-boho clothing store that sells $400 spirit beads to rich bitches to wear at Coachella, they should have no problem registering Tristan & Sasha India as the business name.