Our Lady of Perpetual Sluntbucketry Lindsay Lohan has allegedly run out of people her own age to alienate and piss off and has moved to the younger crowd. A source told Page Six that Lindsay won’t get the hint that Morgan O’Connor, the 18-year-old model she was reportedly
using for her supply wrapping her cougar flaps around doesn’t want anything to do with her crackie ass.
“She finds out where Morgan is, then shows up and causes problems,” an O’Connor source told the paper. “Morgan’s modeling, he’s going to the gym, working for charities — he’s got stuff to do. He doesn’t want to be around Lindsay or her –behavior.”
Excuse the fuck outta you, anonymous source! The Lohans also have stuff to do. Ali wants to sing again, Lindsay is this close to a lucrative book deal and Dina is busy holding a loaded gun to make sure I got all that down.
The source also said Lindsay crashed a party Morgan threw at the Dream Downtown hotel for his friends, the Rich Kids of Instagram crowd (yeah, I don’t know who the fuck they are, either). She allegedly started bitching Morgan out and demanded all the girls leave, but someone stepped up to play the Bon Qui Qui character in this production of Heartbreak Whore-tel and called security.
“They honestly didn’t know what to do — they assumed it was Lohan’s room,” the source said, as after that, the Mean Girls star “called her dad and locked herself in a bedroom, and wouldn’t come out.”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You have to have money or available credit to get a hotel room, don’t you? This bitch could go to rehab for 25 to life and still not be able to sort her shit out. Lindsay, you are
47 27 years old. You do not lock yourself in a room and call your daddy because your pretend boyfriend would rather get his dick stuck in the treads of an escalator than have anything to do with your crazy ass. Get a fucking hobby that doesn’t involve scaring kids, drugs, acting, singing, drugs, alcohol, drugs or keeping your cringe-worthy self in the public eye.
Above is somebody’s Romanian grandmama straight-up falling out of her good shoes after trying to conquer two tiny steps and losing. Below is everyone’s least favorite long-donged douchehole eating floor with his butt during a show in Indianapolis last night. Watch and compare:
The Chris Brown one is making me HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA until my keyboard goes hoarse. Watching Chris slip and bust his ass feels like two tiny kittens hugging my eyeballs. What a beautiful sight. The only way this could’ve been better is if the falling satellite played the role of Chris Brown’s ass and Chris Brown’s head played the role of the stage floor during a reenactment of this minutes later.
The other video, I refuse to laugh at. I REFUSE! I have been trained to swallow down any laugh crawling up my throat over a granny going BOOM. My abuelita once crashed through a screen door and the first thing she did after adjusting her control-top hose was to check to make sure that not even a sliver of a smile was on my face. So I must not laugh at this Romanian memaw’s hair cape hilariously flying through the air as she does the twist onto the floor. This is a setup and I will not fall for this trick!
That being said, all points go to the Tumbling Romanian Grandma!
File this under: Shit that I’ve learned from the latter years of Kunty Karl, Calvin Klein and Giorgio Armani.
When I’m deep into the “Dinner at 5” phase of my life and want a hot piece of buff man meat to massage waterproof Benjamin Homosexual cream (all the refined socialites refer to it by its full name, dahling) between my wrinkly toes and give me the Heimcock maneuver after I have trouble swallowing my own saliva, I have to somehow sell a million overpriced gowns to a million women first. Sounds easy. Now let me just pull my Sew Easy knitting machine out of my asshole and get on that.
There has be an easier way. I’d do that whole “sell my soul to Lucifer” thing, but my soul went into foreclosure years ago. It ain’t worth shit. Anyway.
Here’s more of the luckiest old bitch alive Giorgio Armani frolicking in Formentera, Spain with a hot piece that I’m sure he’s introducing as “his nephew.” I can’t wait until I’m 77 and can introduce my leased whores as “my nephew.”
Alan Simpson, the former senator of Wyoming and a co-chair on The Deficit Reduction Commission, think the children of America are a bunch of rude little shits who wear their caps backawards and listen to way too much Enema Man and Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dog. Did Mr. Simpson just call our national’s youth SCAT LOVERS? Mr. Simpson needs to get his mind out of the dirty bedpan! Dude’s got prunes and extra-strength laxatives on the brain.
Enema Man and Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dog should really get together with MC Skat Kat to become the new colons of Activia. No wonder Eminem has curbed the rage lately. Bitch finally took a shit.
But the real punchline of this YouTube clip is what they suggest you watch afterward:
Snoopy is in a bad mood, because he’s constipated! Duh. Charlie Brown needs to hook his dog up with the great suppository.
With all that being said, I’d still listen the shit out of Enema Man and Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dog.
At an Aerosmith show in Toronto last night, Steven Tyler, who was dressed like your sexually ambiguous crazy old auntie who spends her weekends buying plastic flowers at yard sales, playfully tapped Joe Perry with his hip. Joe returned the love but he put a little too much gas in his hip thrust and Steven’s ass fell into the audience.
Steven did an over-the-top cartoon face as he fell into the crowd, so they probably planned this shit backstage over Metamucil shooters. But still! The last time Steven fell into the audience he broke his hip and ended up slurping up butterscotch pudding in the hospital for weeks! There has to be another way for these old bitches to play with each other without Steven ending up with an IV in his one good vein. Maybe they can rip each other’s Bengay pads off or something!
Gordon Ramsay was taking his sundried mammillas out for a stroll with his wife on the beach in St. Tropez yesterday when he stopped so that this eyeballs could taste a pair of roasted and wrinkled ham hocks. You know Gordon was thinking how delicious those things would taste with a red wine sauce drizzled on top of them and a side of broad beans. Serve ’em up, you stupid donkeys!
And before you start farting about how Gordon is wearing too many clothes on a nekkid beach, take a better look because he’s clearly baring the ass on top of his neck. What more do you want? (And I still would. Both those asses).