Seen above beaming at the face while looking across the street and seeing a blinking OPEN sign on the bar that she’s going to have a celebratory “first DUI conviction” cocktail at, White Oprah was in court today to plead guilty to what her freckled human ATM has done a million times before: drive while the sweet nectar is flowing through her veins.
Last September, White Oprah finally contributed to her family’s DUI legacy by getting arrested for driving drunk and speeding on Long Island. White Oprah was in court today to answer to the charges and she shocked a nation when she didn’t take a cue from Lindsay Lohan by blaming it on the black kid and she didn’t say to the judge, “Listen, this is obviously just a big misunderstanding that I’m sure we can work out,” while making blow job motions. TMZ says that White Oprah pleaded guilty to DUI and speeding and since it was her inaugural DUI, the judge only gave her 100 hours of community service (“Uh, can this bitch’s community service be to leave our community and never come back?” – the community) and she’ll have to take a DUI class. Her license was revoked, that interlock shit will be put in her car and she’ll have to pay a bunch of fines, so say goodbye to one of your kidneys, little Cody Lohan, because mama’s going to need to sell it on the black market to pay the courts!
What’s really surprising is that the judge didn’t immediately dismiss the case, scream, “PLEASE DON’T HURT MY FAMILY,” and then scurry off to their chambers. Because when you stare into the beady, cloudy eyes of White Oprah’s evil gnome of a lawyer Mark Heller, you see the soul of a charbroiled leprechaun who will nibble on the tips of your fingers when you sleep and cackle outside of your window in the dead of night if you do him wrong. I guess the judge isn’t afraid of a shifty leprechaun gnome who spends his off-time in a toddler-sized tanning bed. Judges are so brave nowadays.
Here’s A Story About A Woman Named Cameo Crispi Who Tried To Burn Her Ex-Piece’s House Down With Bacon
File this under: If Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes was born a crazy white woman from Utah.
KSL reports that the crispy beauty above is 31-year-old Cameo Adawn Crispi (Side note: I hate throwing puns so early in the post, but Cameo Adawn Crispi is truly a hot name. With a name like that, she should’ve been the member of an R&B girl group from the 80s) and she was busted by the cops in Naples, UT after she broke into her ex-boyfriend’s house and tried to burn that bitch down with a pound of bacon. Vanilla Ice just fell in love.
Cameo Crispi’s ex-boyfriend called the cops on March 14th, because she kept burning up his phone with calls and texts and he wanted her to stop. He wasn’t home at the time and he was afraid she was going to go to his house. When the cops showed up to his house, Cameo Crispi was there and they noticed that she was plastered and smoke was coming out of the front door. They went into the house and found the deadly deliciousness cooking on the stove. The officer wrote in his report:
“I asked to come in and observed a wood stove left open with a fire burning inside and hot coals on the floor around the stove. I observed the burner to be on the setting ‘High’ and the bacon to be severely burned and smoking badly.”
The officer turned off the gas stove, put out the fire and arrested Miss Crispi’s ass. They took her to the hospital before taking her to the police station, because she blew a 0.346 on a breathalyzer. She was charged with arson, burglary, assault by a prisoner, interfering with an arresting officer, electronic communication harassment and intoxication. Miss Crispi admitted to the cops that she wanted to burn her ex’s house down to get back at him for doing her wrong. She’s due in court next month.
0.346?!!!! Yes, I know White Oprah considers 0.346 “a slow night,” but most people would find it hard to operate a gas stove while the feeling in their hands is completely gone. But being drunk is the perfect defense for cooking a pound of bacon. Miss Crispi should’ve never admitted to trying to burn her dude’s house down. Because she could’ve told the judge that she had a few dozen cocktails and wanted some bacon. The judge would’ve understood and immediately dismissed her case, because everybody knows that eating bacon while wasted is like getting your salad tossed by an angel. There’s nothing like it.
With that being said, Miss Crispi should get the death penalty for destroying all that bacon.
That sentence alone should have every CPS agent in the universe (yes, even CPS Saturn) rushing to Michael Lohan’s home to collect Baby Landon, but sadly being a human taint rash isn’t enough proof that your kid needs confiscating.
On Thursday, Michael Lohan’s wife Kate Major (yes, the one who looks like Miss Piggy’s half sister who sells meth during her midnight shift at the Circle K) submitted her second entry for Most Florida by getting drunk, whooping her husband in his fried chicken face, fled the scene and crashed her car into some bushes. Police arrested her ass for being a violent drunk mess and she’s currently being held in jail. I’m guessing her prison name is either Major Trash or Frost-N-Tip (because, dayum, she got some $9.99 highlights).
Now TMZ is saying that on Monday, Michael will be filing for primary custody after his wife’s latest life disaster on grounds that he fears for his son’s safety once Kate is released. He also wants someone to investigate her doctors because they recently put her on medication and he claims that the drugs are making her loco in the cabeza. Uh huh. So how do you explain dating Jon Gosselin? Was she on drugs then too? It’s not the drugs, Michael; she’s been infected with the virus carried by the Lohan family (Attentionwhorus Dramatis) and it’s turned her into a drama-loving drunk lunatic. I know; you can call me Detective La Allison, because I just solved the case.
And when Michael shows up on Monday to file for custody, can’t someone from CPS please bust him on a technicality? Maybe one of the wheels on Baby Landon’s stroller looks a little wobbly. Maybe he filled out the form in black ink instead of blue. Maybe it looks like he’s feeding him off-brand Animal Crackers. Just find SOMETHING you can use. Come on CPS, Landon Lohan needs you!
Last month, Kate Major, the messy mess who always looks like a drunk Tara Reid in a fun house mirror, and Michael Lohan, the stubborn hard shit stuck in humanity’s b-hole, got into a fight, and as she screamed for help on the fame whore’s answer to 911 (aka Twitter) while locked in her bedroom, he tried to break down the door. To the surprise of no one, these two didn’t get intense counseling and make a promise to not be complete urethra sores for the sake of their child. (Yes, these two have a child. Are you listening CPS?) Michael and Kate are continuing to be a non-stop episode of Cops.
TMZ says that at their home in Florida tonight, Michael and Kate did something they probably do every second of the day when they’re not passed out on the bathroom floor: they got into a fight. Michael immediately called TMZ afterward (because that’s always his first call) and told them that Kate punched him multiple times in the face. I’m guessing that Kate hit him once for herself, once for LiLo and once for humanity. Michael called 911 (Twitter must’ve been down) and just as the cops arrived, a drunken Kate busted out of that scene in her car.
The cops caught up to Kate after she crashed into some bushes not far away. She was arrested for DUI and the cops may charge her with domestic battery.
The police should go ahead and arrest Michael Lohan too and throw him in the same cell with Kate and charge them both for giving Florida a band name. And we know that’s saying a whole fucking lot. A whole fucking lot.
There’s 2 things about this story that surprised me:
1. Kate and Michael have enough money for booze and gas.
2. Their kid still lives with them. It’s amazing that he hasn’t realized his future is bleak, found an open window, jumped out of it and stumbled his way toward a better life. Maybe he’ll do just that tonight when Michael Lohan’s on the phone with those who really matter to him (read: TMZ, Radar, The Insider, Access Hollywood, your local PennySaver, etc…).
On Oscar night, HuffPo handed their Twitter feed to the humanized bottle of Thunderbird in a wrinkly paper bag we all know as Chelsea Handler and they let her live-tweet through all ten million hours of that foolery. Since Chelsea Handler is Chelsea Handler she twatted out some tweets that offended people. She made a bunch of people reach for their #pitchforks when Lupita Nyong’o won and she used the moment to whore out her new book about her travels through Africa called Uganda Be Kidding Me. (Yes, that title is real. Kenya believe that bitch?)
— Huffington Post (@HuffingtonPost) March 3, 2014
Get it, get it? Uganda is a country in Africa and Lupita grew up in Africa. And when 12 Years a Slave won, she basically echoed her tweet about Lupita.
— Huffington Post (@HuffingtonPost) March 3, 2014
Jennifer Aniston’s tequila shot pourer also joked that St. Angie Jolie adopted Lupita.
Some of HuffPo’s followers didn’t laugh, didn’t like it and wanted to string Chelsea up by her feet and throw rocks at her as all the vodka in her body drained into her head. While selling her book on Good Morning America today, George Stephanopoulos brought up her Oscar night tweets and Chelsea said exactly what you’d expect Chelsea to say about people calling her racist.
“People are mad at me all the time. If was worried about that then I would be spending a lot of time online. I’d rather be a little more productive. I’m not racist. I date a lot of black people, so that would be a difficult thing to explain to them.”
Of course Chelsea’s going to say that she doesn’t have a racist bone in her body since she’s had a few black bones in her body. Of course she’s going to use the good, old, “I’ve had jizz from a black peen on my face! I am not a racist!” excuse. I’m kind of surprised that Chelsea didn’t answer to the hate on Oscar night by tweeting a picture of her with a black peen in her mouth and “#seenotaracist” written in Sharpie on her forehead. And now I hate myself a whole lot more today because I think I just gave Paula Deen an idea.
iPhone, meet your new wallpaper. If you put an empty Corona bottle in his hand and replaced that ugly ass casino carpet with dead grass, that would be my uncle at the end of every family gathering. Shit, that’s me at the end of every gathering.
Coochies got wet and laughs came flying out of mouths at Caesars Windsor in Windsor, Ontario, Canada last night when George Lopez’s drunk, juicy, bloated gut hung out as he took a little sweet nectar-induced nap on the floor. That picture is the reason why I’m choking on cackles today. CTV News says that police put George in handcuffs at 10:49pm for being messy and drunk in public. TMZ says that George wasn’t charged with anything, but he was thrown in the drunk tank to dry out. George performed at Caesars right before he did the funniest thing he’s ever done and he’s supposed to perform again there tonight.
Somewhere, George Lopez’s scorned ex-wife and her one kidney are laughing and laughing at the sight of her hooker-fucking piece of trash ex-husband being down and out in Windsor. And this goes without saying, but about this time tomorrow TMZ will report that Carlos Mencia was arrested for public intoxication after drunkenly passing out on the floor of Caesars Windsor. The Windsor PD should go ahead and leave a space empty in the drunk tank for Carlos.
While other mayors are working to prevent sanitation strikes and cutting the ribbon on new community centers or just making sure the guy who cleans up the hobo poop from the sidewalks is getting a raise (he deserves it), Toronto’s mayor Rob Ford can be found in da cluuub spastically trying his hand at DJing. At least that’s what I’m told this video is; it looks more like this cat is trying to play with a Cat’s Meow, but what do I know? I’m clearly not up to date on the underground crack-smoking drunk mayor DJ scene.
According to The National Post, Mayor Rob Ford made an surprise appearance at a fundraiser for local musicians on Saturday night at a Toronto bar. Yeah, allow me to tell you what really happened: Rob Ford was getting drunk at a bar and when he got up to take a piss, he noticed a fundraiser was happening in the next room and crashed it. Knowing that it’s always better to have a happy drunk Ford rather than an angry drunk Ford, they just let him stay and fuck around with the DJ equipment to his little heart’s content, and nobody booed him because they didn’t want to end up on life support. All that DJing caused him to work up a hunger (much work, such exercise), so he ripped all the knobs off the mixer and dipped them into the Chalet Sauce he carries around with him in a BeerBelly. I know the video doesn’t show that part, but it’s Rob Ford we’re talking about; there’s like a 90% chance that he actually did that.
Also, here’s a breaking news story about Rob Ford assaulting a fire hydrant with his crack dick, because why not?
— Molson Canadian (@Molson_Canadian) February 9, 2014
Leave it to Canada (aka Ireland Jr) to haul a giant beer-filled vending machine to the Sochi Olympics. Canadians love beer so much, that thing probably got a first class seat on the plane ride over to Russia, and it would have marched in the Parade of Nations during the Opening Ceremonies, if it hadn’t gotten drunk, attacked a decorative tree, then passed out on the couch while watching Trailer Park Boys.
Time says that the fridge was installed by Molson Canadian in the Canadian Olympic House and works by inserting a Canadian passport, waiting for the age and citizenship to be verified, then dispensing a beer. No where in that description is payment mentioned, which means this machine could be dispensing free beers. Well, so long second-place medal standing; it was nice knowing you, but now that there’s an endless supply of free beer, Canadian athletes have better things to do than collect gold medals. Throw on “Summer of 69“, it’s time to get RIGHT FUCKIN’ RIPPED! I’m only half kidding; if Canadian athletes had access to an endless supply of beer, Bryan Adams, and a passport-operated Swiss Chalet dipping sauce machine, they’d never come home.
And I call bullshit on that beer fridge only working for Canadian passports; Canadians are too damn polite to create something so exclusive (they love to share – that’s why they keep giving Bieber back to the US). I bet if you inserted any old passport, a bleep-bloop sounding voice would say: “TECHNICALLY NOT PERMITTED. JUST THIS ONCE THOUGH. DON’T TELL ANYONE, BUD”. But it would never cut you off; you could keep coming back and inserting random scraps of cardboard (like the “flooring” from your hotel room. Sochi joke, nailed it) and it would say: “BEER FRIDGE STARTING TO THINK YOU’RE TAKING ADVANTAGE” then “THAT WAS RUDE. BEER FRIDGE SO SORRY. HERE, TAKE 10 BEERS AS APOLOGY.”
Paula Deen, Guy Fieri and Brit Brit will all swear to you that you haven’t truly lived life to the fullest of fullest until you’ve pulled all your panties down in front of a Crown Fried Chicken and rubbed yourself while inhaling the delicious scent of fried chicken skins and spicy fries. This dude knows what they’re talking about. On Monday morning in Philadelphia, a bunch of people said to themselves, “Oh, I guess , George Zimmerman is at it again,” when a bald crazy drunk bitch crashed his silver Camry into a Crown Fried Chicken, got out of the car, got naked and put jerk chicken on the menu when he started doing himself in the middle of the street.
Philadelphia Magazine says that at 10:30am on Monday, cops were called to a street corner after three-time DUI-er Vincent Wade from New Jersey crashed his car into a Crown Fried Chicken and then gave everyone a fap show when he started choking his own chicken. After the cops finished pinching their nips at the sight of a delicious drop of deep fried sex shaking his underdone biscuits while jacking off next to a puddle of black sludge, they put on a full-body rubber condom and arrested him for DUI. They released this statement after:
On January 27, 2014, at approximately 10:30 am, police responded to 500 West Lehigh Avenue for an auto accident. Upon their arrival officers observed a vehicle on the curbside of the southwest corner of 5th & Lehigh Avenue. The male operator was seated in the driver’s seat of a 2007 Silver Camry with no shirt on. The male was asked to step out of the vehicle and when he, did the male was unable to stand on his own. His clothes were torn off and he was unable to respond to police questions. Witnesses to the accident stated that the male was operating his vehicle west on Lehigh Avenue and then veered across the intersection at 5th Street and drove on to the curb hitting a fixed object. After the accident,the male operator exited the vehicle and began removing his clothing and yelling. He then attempted to drive off; however, someone was able to remove the keys and hold them until police arrived. The operator was identified as 34 year old ######### from Pennsauken, New Jersey. He was charged with Driving Under the Influence; no injuries reported.
Vince the Chicken Choker wasn’t charged with property damage, because the damage to the Crown Fried Chicken was minimal. He wasn’t charged with indecent exposure, because if the smell of fried chicken and spicy fries doesn’t make you want to rub your genitals, you’re not human. It’s a natural reaction. Of course, there’s video (Philadelphia Mag has the uncensored video if that’s what you need) of this mess and yes, I watched it while listening to Strokin’. Stroke it to the East, stroke it to the West, stroke it to the chicken that he loves best.
Note to self: The next time I’m at a Crown Fried Chicken, tell them to leave the homemade white gravy off of my mashed potatoes, thankyouverymuch.
(Thanks to Mahesha and everybody else who sent this in)
When Justin Bieber’s delusional and enabling mom Patti Mallette commanded you to pray for her son, most of us got our knees, put our hands together and prayed for the shit-covered wart on humanity’s left ass lip to get arrested and get deported back to Canada. Your prayers halfway worked. Thanks, Patti!
TMZ and pretty much every other damn news source in the world reports that the hardest Wild Boy on the Montessori Kindergarten playground got what he finally wanted, he got arrested. I know, it’s so hard for a white boy to get busted. The Lesbeaver should be arrested for being The Lesbeaver, but he got busted for drag racing, driving while under the influence of some mind numbing shit (read: Sizzurp laced with maple syrup), resisting arrest and driving on an expired license. You’re probably thinking that you used to ride your Big Wheels hard through your neighborhood and you never got pulled over by the cops, but this is Justin Bieber and nobody goes harder than that thug toddler.
The Miami New Times says that after leaving a club in Miami early this morning, Justin drove a rented yellow Lamborghini to a residential area and because everybody in his entourage is as fucked in the brains as he is, they blocked off the street so he could race against some rapper named Khalil. When the cops pulled Justin over for speeding, he was barely coherent, but my question is, is the bitch ever coherent? He took a sobriety test and failed and when they asked him to take his hands out of his pockets, he refused. The criminal egg thrower was arrested, his passenger (some Instagram model named Chantel Jeffries) was arrested and Khalil was arrested. He’s currently at the police department where they’re booking him, taking baby’s first mug shot and checking to see what his booze alcohol level is.
THIS STORY! This story is like a wide open ovary egg and the tears the Beliebers are shedding on Twitter is like potent jizz and together they’re making me give birth to a littler of YESes! An alert on my iPhone woke me up at the hour of the ungodly this morning and when I looked at it and saw the words “Justin Bieber Arrested For DUI And Drag Racing,” the singing voices of angels filled my ears and I got the image of The Lesbeaver drunkenly walking down the Drag Race catwalk in front of a side-eye throwing RuPaul. The best part is that this happened in Florida! Oh Florida, when you deliver, you really deliver. This story should come with a card attached that reads, “See, whores, we are good for something. Love, Florida.”