It used to be an easy win if you pulled the Chaz Bono card in Pictionary; giant circle for the body, Theodore Seville for the face, maybe draw a crude caricature of Cher in the background licking her lips or flicking her hair off her shoulders with a speech bubble that says “I made that!”. But it looks like you’re shit out of luck now! It’s time to cue the Florence and the Machine and sing The Hog Days Are Over, because Chaz emerged this weekend at a farmer’s market in Beverly Hills and shocked everyone by looking like a slimmed-down healthy shell of his former self.
I don’t know how Chaz dropped the weight, so I’ll speculate that it was either diet and exercise, surgery, or going back and re-watching Nancy Grace on Dancing with the Stars (I literally couldn’t keep food down during that whole season). Remember Chaz, losing weight feels good, but don’t get addicted to that lightheaded feeling you get from compliments and celery; it’s not worth it if you turn into the Texas T-Rex and get all Dallas Buyer’s Club on us (no seriously, don’t – it’s fucking terrifying).
Chaz also cruised for oranges and heirloom tomatoes with a mystery lady. Ooooh, is it serious? Has she met Cher yet? No! That’s a trick question. She’s not walking around beaming with the light that comes from being in the presence of The Almighty, which means their relationship is in the beginner ‘just shopping for veggies’ stage and not the ‘come meet my mother and stare in awe at her glory’ stage.
Also, you may have noticed that I tagged this post Skinny Bones Jones and quizzically thought: “Skinny? Maybe those sideburns…” and I agree. However, when you lose enough weight to cause the scale to slide from REINFORCE THE FLOORING to I NO LONGER SWEAT BUTTER, that gets a skinny tag in my books.
(Pics via Splash)
Because Phoebe Price was already booked for the opening of an Arby’s in the Santa Clarita Valley (I made that up), GLAAD hired Rumer Willis to be the resident seat filler at their Media Awards in Los Angeles last night. Wearing a fresh-out-of-the-plastic-bag polyester weave and serving up an eyebrow situation that’ll make all the other taters in the garden salivate through their eyes with jealousy, Rumer hit the carpet and let everyone know that you don’t need talent to get bitches to take your picture. You just need to come out of the right vagina.
When Tater Head sees these pictures of herself last night, she should chin who ever is responsible for painting her mug up like that. It looks like they just blew white flour in her face and called it a day. Bitch looks like uncooked potatoes au gratin. But you know, I can’t fully hate on Rumer, because she’s got a semi-hot piece at her side and last night I fell asleep between a body pillow and my farting chihuahua.
Here’s some other hos at last night’s GLAAD Media Awards: Tater with her piece Jayson Blair, Sara Gilbert, an understated Brad Goreski, Chaz Bono, the Evans brothers, Elle Fanning, Blue Ivy Carter’s weekday babysitter, Kiki Dunst, Steven Tyler with a perm, Naya Rivera, the Noxzema Girl with McSteamy, Wilson Cruz, Beth Ditto with her girlfriend, Trevor Donovan assuming the position, Matt Dallas and Unique from Glee.
Chaz Bono’s former fiancee wasn’t looking forward to putting her mouth over a peen instead of a poon, but now that she’s gone he can freely chase after his dick-getting dreams. But first, Chaz has to fill his peen fund with enough dollars to pay for the surgery. Chaz tells Rolling Stone that he’s already picked out a doctor in Belgrade and all he needs is around $45,000 to take his down low parts from clit to cock. Chaz broke it down, and yes, my eyeballs bungeed out of their sockets and hit the screen after I read that his shiny new dick could be Tommy Lee-sized.
“I could get a phalloplasty, which builds the phallus from a donor site on your body,” he says straightforwardly, “but I’m leaning more toward a metoidioplasty. It’s a procedure that uses what you already have down there” – he means his clitoris – “which has grown larger from the testosterone. You end up with a smaller phallus than with the phalloplasty, but it’s fully functional, it gets erect, and the sensation is all there.”
Does he know how big it’s going to be?
He frowns. “You know, I don’t really. I mean, I’ve never seen one erect. So it’s really hard to say. But, you know, soft, probably about three inches, and it grows considerably. I don’t know what the average size difference is, but when I’m having sex I probably get three or four times larger.” He pauses. “I was in a fairly typical heterosexual relationship, which caused some militant members of the queer community to think I’m reinforcing stereotypes or whatever. Anyway, I think Jen wished I wouldn’t get the bottom done, but she understood my need to.” He shrugs. “You have to understand, though, for me the life transformation has already happened.”
I don’t know if it was Chaz or another transman who said that he wasn’t touching his bottom area yet, because the recovery from the surgery is as painful as getting fucked in the pee hole with a hot screw and the dick doesn’t even work that well anyway.
I read a while ago that some new dicks can only get fully erect with the help of a pump. That would kind of suck. You’re like, “Get ready, bitch, this rock hard fat dick is going to fuck you into another religion! Hold onto your nipples cause they’re gonna pop off from the fuck quake I’m about to hit you with. We’re going to break the Richter Scale tonight! Are you ready? Oh wait, can you grab that bike pump out of the closet…” (<---- That's pretty much the dialogue heard in Hugh Hefner’s room every night.) But I’m glad to hear from Chaz that this doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I’m also glad to hear that Chaz’s peen will be able to grow naturally and then some!
I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve failed grade school math, but three times four equals twelve, right? Chaz can get himself a 12 inch salchicha dick? Chaz says that he will never ask Cher for the money since he wants to do this own his own, but I say, STOP IT! When it comes to getting a 12-inch dick, all pride for independence should fly out of the window. Just get that 12-inch dick, Chaz! Seriously, if Chaz gets hit by a bus tomorrow, wouldn’t he want to be hit while having a 12-inch dick? I don’t even see Chaz’s lips moving and I can tell that he’s fighting to say the word YAAAASSSSS!
Hell, Cher is so rich that she can buy everyone a 12 incher. She could be like the Oprah of 12-inch dicks. You get a 12-inch dick and you get a 12-inch dick! I’ll take one. My arm is getting so tired from hitting the snooze button 50 times every morning, so it would be nice to be able to hit that button with my new 1 footer.
And Google tells me that Chaz will still have an orgasm, but won’t be able to ejaculate. Those surgeons should try to fix that problem. Can’t they install jizz sacks down? Flavored ones? That would really be the best and I’d get that. Can you imagine if you had flavored jizz? That would be a priceless pick-up tool. Think about it. You’re at the cream bar at Starbucks when some hot piece mutters to himself, “Ugh, they’re out of hazelnut.” You wink inside knowing you’ve got this, grab his cup and fiddle with a few knobs on your nutsack before you quickly shoot out a stream of hazelnut deliciousness. That would be a beautiful story to tell everyone on your wedding day.
(Image via Out Magazine)
The National Enquirer (I know, I know…) is saying that Chaz Bono has dropped his fiancee Jennifer Elia and is now looking for a hot trick to bump his gut ‘o plenty against. Chaz and Jennifer got engaged a few months ago after being together for six years, but the wedding is off and he’s ready to move on to a bigger, better and fame whorier piece. Chaz wants to wet hump the spotlight and Jennifer wants to mouth hump a bottle of the sweet nectar at home. Chaz is bringing in the cash and Jennifer is job deficient. Jennifer also won’t let Chaz’s chunk rolls be great and he has had it with her ass. The source puts it like this:
“Chaz is totally over the relationship. His parting shot to Jen made her realize there was no turning back. He told her, ‘I can do better than you.’ He wanted someone who could ride the wave of success with him but found Jen too much of a downer. Chaz is already on the lookout for someone new and made it clear to Jen. He told her, ‘I’ve tried, but you just aren’t right for me. I’ve got to move on.’
Jen constantly gripes about not being able to find a job and her lack of money. She nags at Chaz about his weight and for the last few months her insomnia has been so bad that they don’t even sleep together.”
When she drinks, Jen becomes a completely different person. Chaz just can’t handle her then.”
Jennifer held Chaz’s hand as he made the transition from lady to dude, was forced to sit through the act of torture known as Dancing with the Stars, had to stare at that dreadful throat beard and he’s just throwing her away the same way Cher’s first plastic surgeon threw her original face into the medical waste bin? A bitch gets some fame and is about to get a peen and suddenly he’s too good? Actually, I’m not sure I blame Chaz. I just got a good look at Jennifer. I mean, you can’t trust a ho who looks like Heidi Fleiss after getting Face/Off surgery with Amy Fisher.
Never mind that Cher had John Travolta’s Battlefield Earth wig on top of her head, I think my heart burped out a warm feeling last night when her eyes got covered with a shiny layer of pride after watching Chaz Bono twist his shit to the Rocky theme song on Dancing with the Stars. It’s the same look I made when I read that there’s an IHOP in the East Village now. Cher’s got that Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity twinkle in her eye.
Cher beaming with pride through her face reminds me of the time that my mom gave me a “good job” hug after my 3rd grade recorder recital even though I stopped blowing halfway (insert your “how times have changed” joke here) and sat my quitting ass down. Just proud as all shit to see their child up there. Chaz and Lacey Schwimmer get an A for effort and they also get a very special A for delivering one of the messiest performances of the night. It was like watching a Fourth of July-themed Scion commercial starring those dancing hamsters.
I don’t care if reading one of Cher’s Tweets makes me feel like a blind person trying to read Braille written in chewed-up dot candies, when I uncross my eyes and finally see what she’s trying to say it makes my everything. Picturing Cher in her don’t fuck with me boots spiking Kim Kartrashian in the triple dirty diaper ass up and down the 405 freeway is a dollop of whipped everything on top of my everything.
When the Kardashian’s “fans” (aka Pimp Mama Kris and Baby Mason working overtime in the Kardashian Kommand Kenter) questioned Cher’s Tweets, she backpedaled a little, but it was too late. Cher has spoken and she got it right the first time! Kick those bitches down the freeway (which probably looks a lot like throwing a hot dog down a hallway).
And if you’re wondering what Cher’s child was up to last night, here he is swaying his polyester-slather fupa with Lacey Schwimmer who looked like Donatella Versace looking into a fun house mirror after my 6th grade Antarctica diorama project (featuring sea foam, seals and albatrosses galore) exploded on her. If you told me that Chaz Rumbas as good as Cher operates a keyboard, I wouldn’t call you a lie teller.