It’s been approximately 134 days, 12 hours, 57 minutes, 5 seconds and 12 milliseconds since I’ve posted about the pristine drew drop gracefully sitting on Hollywood’s petal, Courtney Stodden, and I know all of our dehydrated eyeballs have been parched for a taste of her all-natural grace and raw amphibian beauty. (By the way, all-natural grace and raw amphibian beauty tastes like old man ball sweat, lead-based car paint, expired candle wax, watermelon kiwi butt lube and foam insulation.) Well, the Porn Iguana FINALLY came out of hiding (Question: Can you go into hiding when nobody’s really checking for you?) today to do charitable work like the Mother Theresa of fame whores that she is. Courtney wrapped her signature lettuce bikini around her non-LEED certified plastic titty balls to pass out veggie hot dogs for PETA on Capitol Hill in DC. Salmonella has never looked so elegant.
It’s good that the Porn Iguana is spending time in the city she’ll live in one day since she’s obviously going to be President or some shit. The Porn Iguana isn’t only in DC to suck off a veggie dog in front of a camera and call it charity, she’s also there to make political contacts. And by “make political contacts” I mean she’ll let the janitor of a junior senator’s office titty fuck her in the bathroom of the IHOP on 14th. You have to get your political start somewhere and I’m pretty sure all of our Presidents started out like that.
Stop shaking your heads “hell yes,” John Traavolta and Parasite Hilton. You’re not part of this discussion. The class already knows that you’ll do it for free.
The Daily Mail, where I get all my blow job orgy news from, says that Mayor Manuel Onieva has launched an investigation into a video of a tourist, who is reportedly from Britain, sucking on 24 peens during a sex game in a bar on the Spanish resort town of Magaluf. The video went viral today and I don’t think that’s the only thing that went viral. In the video (there’s a semi-censored NSFW version here), the chick puts a peen in her mouth, barely sucks it for a millisecond, jumps to the next one, does the same thing and so and so on. Chick is a speed sucker and it feels like she goes through 10 dicks in 30 seconds. It’s like watching the Energizer Bunny on meth being the pass-around-patty at a blowjobs-only sex party. Apparently, this sort of thing isn’t uncommon in Magaluf. Many bars host sex parties where they get chicks to do sex stuff on dudes as the crowd and DJ cheers them on. Mayor Onieva says that “mamading” parties (“mamada” means beej in Spanish, basically) are illegal and the bar could get into trouble.
The Daily Mail also says that after putting 24 strange dicks in her mouth, the chick got a bottle of cava worth 3 euros. Okay….
If she was just really in the mood to suck on 24 floppy and semi-soft peens that she didn’t wash beforehand and it wasn’t about a prize, then I say, you do you (and those 24 peens), bitch. I am not judging her for that at all, because who hasn’t been in a bar and thought to themselves, “I just really want to suck off everybody in here.” Just me? Okay, then. But if she was doing it for a $4 bottle of cava, then I need to ask, how bad is the economy in Britain? Has it really come to that? She should’ve at least aimed for a drink a dick. Or since she might’ve put a little HPV, herpes, gonorrhea and chlamydia on her tongue while she was sucking off all those strangers, the bar could’ve at least thrown in a bottle of sparkling antibiotics.
Sucking off 24 dudes for a bottle of $4 cava is the definition of “she don’t love herself.” I mean, that’s like sucking off 24 dudes for a bottle of Strawberry Hill. Hmmm, since I put it that way….
I really wish that after she blew the last dude on the blow job train, she jumped up and screamed, “I’ve got a cold sore! Joke’s on all of you skanks!”
And if you need the answer to my headline question, then you really don’t know me.
RiRi knows that it’s been approximately 45 seconds since we’ve seen her alien nipples and that’s way too long, so she brought the #FREETHENIPPLE movement to the CFDA Awards in NYC tonight by wearing tons of fucking sparkles, a stole made out of Poochie and not much else. Bitch is giving me headline stripper Josephine Baker. I love it, because it’s an elegant ensemble that can easily take you from the stroll to cocktails with THE QUEEN, it’s covered in crystals (and my gay eyes jizz for crystals) and she almost reached the high levels of demureness and sophistication that Rose McGowan reached at the VMAs a million years ago.
And Miley Cyrus has been challenged. Expect Miley to show up to the Frederick’s of Hollywood Awards held in the parking lot of a strip mall in Florida wearing nothing but exquisite Lucite heels and a beaded tampon string hanging out of her twat.
Whoever came up with the phrase, “THIS is why we can’t have nice things,” was obviously a time traveler from the future who was a guest at the elegant Tennessee wedding of Shona Carter-Brooks and Jonathan Brooks. Because Shona’s newborn daughter strapped to her Vera Wang for David Bridal’s gown is the reason why we can’t and don’t deserve nice things. That man on the right, his “Jesus, take the wheel of that dress and drive that poor baby far away from this foolery,” says everything you need to know about this mess of a story.
Over the weekend, Facebook, Twitter and everywhere else lit all the way up over a picture of Shona Carter-Brooks walking down the aisle of her wedding while her one month old baby Aubrey was attached to the train of her dress. And the choir sang, “Here comes the bride, all dressed in wh-at the hell is she doing?” I mean, it could’ve been worse. They could’ve gotten confused and tied empty tin cans to her dress and tied poor Aubrey to the back of their marital chariot.
After many people on Facebook, said that a CPS officer should’ve jumped through the doors when the pastor asked, “Who objects to this fuckery?”, Shona Carter-Brooks answered them all on her Facebook (via Buzzfeed) and said that Jesus was on their side (Cut to Jesus throwing a side-eye at Shona while sitting on our side of the church) and that strapping her baby to the train of her dress was so EPIC and EXCLUSIVE that it made them social media stars for the weekend.
People questioning what we do, commenting all negative, and just doing the most. We good though we covered by the Blood which never loose its power. So to the media, radio, news, and whomever else wanting to talk about what WE do here you go: Media Media I see how it works regardless the situation or purpose people gone have something negative to say! The answer is we do what we want when we want long as Jesus on our side everything worked out fine and gone continue to be fine. Our 1 month old was awake and well secured on my train. Most important while yall got ya feelings in us we had our hearts in Christ which covers all!! So keep ya mouths running for it was just that Exclusive and Epic enough we made top blog way from small town Ripley, TN and the social media doing what they do, TALK!!!!
“People are just doing the most,” says the woman who did the ALL-CAPS BOLDED MOST by using her baby as a damn train weight.
Of course, Jesus told Shana and Jonathan to do this. But Shana needs to candle her ears and clean them out, because she heard wrong. Jesus didn’t say, “Put your baby on your train, my child.” Jesus said, “Put your baby on A train headed for anywhere and spare her from this WRECK, my child.”
But after that mess of a STUNT QUEEN stunt, baby Aubrey was okay. Sure she was a little barfy, but you would be suffering from motion sickness too if your mom dragged you down the aisle.
In case your ass needs reminding, this is what the Canadian American rose looked like very recently:
Well, I guess Pamela Anderson missed the feeling of parched, polyester gutter weaves brushing up against her shoulders, because at the World Music Awards in Monte Carlo tonight, she wore a raggedy mop of recycled Barbie hair on top of her head. That weave! I’ve seen clumps of nasty hair on the shower drain of a Super 8 bathroom that looked more luxurious and luscious than Pamela’s weave. Pamela must’ve decided at the last minute that she really wanted to wear a clump of Afghan Hound hair on her head and her stylist didn’t have any on them, so they ran out onto the street, found a day-shift hooker and wrestled her for her weave. Because Pamela’s weave looks like it’s been through some serious shit and I mean that literally and figuratively. It also kind of makes her look like John Travolta’s Battlefield Earth character after bleaching his dreads and getting a job as the hostess of a strip club.
On a positive note, Pamela’s eyebrow situation is ten levels of exquisite. When all else fails, pull out a brown Sharpie and drawn on a beautiful pair of over-the-eye rainbows.
Pics: Splash, Joe Alvarez
I guess the Slut Dress had a more important, classier engagement last night (hosting a pool party in Vegas, then giving a lap dance to a Saudi prince in exchange for vouchers for the Bebe outlet) so she sent her sluttier unemployed cousin, the Skank Dress, in her place to the Divergent premiere in Los Angeles last night.
If Skank Dress looks familiar to you, it’s because you might remember her from a small role in the movie Showgirls. But after spending most of her earnings on fixing numerous botched alterations, she had to make ends meet by getting into unlicensed Brazilian waxing and was eventually busted during a Craigslist sting. So it’s really nice to see her finally get some honest work on the body of Maggie Q. Sadly, Skank Dress was unceremoniously upstaged by human bundle of patchouli-scented sage, Shay-Lean Woodley, and her homage to sun-kissed pubes:
It’s like she said to her stylist: “I want a dress that embodies the spirit of two pube-covered pussy lips freshly spritzed with Tropical Breeze Sun-In glistening in the hot summer sun.” Good on Shay-Lean for not only talking the talk, but walking the walk…and also for not walking the walk in those fucking toe shoes.
Here’s more of Skank Dress (and Maggie Q, but let’s be honest, she’s not the important one here) and Shay-Lean, as well as Kate Winslet, part-time James Franco impersonator Theo James, the most over-it girl at David Goldstein’s 90210-themed bar mitzvah Zoë Kravitz, and Jaden Smith, who looks like he’s traded in his signature constipated face for a shit-eating grin and the leftover wardrobe from a New Radicals music video.
This stunning portrait that is probably giving you the vapors will finally prove that America needs a monarchy and our King and Queen needs to be Gary Busey and Courtney Stodden, because they are a couple who is dignity and grace personified! Get on your knees and bow! Actually, you’re probably already on your knees, because that picture scared the shit out of you and you’re praying to Jesus to cleanse your eyes.
While some nothing, who cares event called the Oscars was happening at some piece of trash, low-budget venue called The Dolby Theater in Hollywood, a much more illustrious and important event called the
Annual Night of Zero Stars 24th Annual Night of 100 Stars happened in the Banquet Hall of a Quality Inn in Beverly Hills. The glittery jewels of Hollywood were all there. The Porn Iguana! Gary Busey! Brenda Dickson! Adrienne Maloof! And a hot piece who looks like a Siegfried Fischbacher statue made out of fried bologna!
Okay, the Porn Iguana and Gary Busey aren’t a real couple. If they were, we’d all know, because the stars would fall from the sky to be closer to them and your phone would immediately auto-correct to this picture every time you typed the word “love.” Besides, their love could never be, because her balloon tits would pop every time Gary flashed his horse-teeth-on-roids at them.
And fully take in the Porn Iguana’s “generic Barbie bought on Clearance at the 99 Cent store and left in a dirt patch in the backyard where it halfway melted and became a spider’s nest” beauty.
In case you couldn’t tell from the screams of paranoia coming from the Southern California area, THE STORM OF EVERY CENTURY!!! has hit Southern California. Even though California is thirstier than ever because of the drought and shit, the media is still being extra dramatic and screaming for the National Guard’s help before the falling water ruins everyone’s fake tan! This is a serious emergency. I was watching the news early this morning and saying, “Don’t you fret, Monsieur M’rius,” to all the media whores losing their minds over a little fall of rain (I can’t believe I just referenced Les Miz). Just as I was laughing at the rain panic, my power went out. That’s what my dumbass gets. The electric company said that a transformer blew out and yes, I got the tingles for a minute picturing a Transformer blowing another Transformer. My laptop battery is dying faster than your patience during a Kanye rant and I’m getting WiFi from a hotspot on my phone, so it’s only a matter of time before my laptop and my phone croak out their last breath of power and I’m left in the dark. I’ll cry myself into the fetal position on the floor, because when my WiFi connection dies, so does MY SOUL!!!!
But before that happens, here’s RiRi trying out-Miley Miley in Paris last night by wearing an outfit you’d usually see on a twink sub at a gay BDSM club. But you know, if you’re RiRi and your at a club, you will have a collar around your neck and your alien nips will be breathing in the moist air through a Hot Topic mesh shirt. It’s just the way it is. Pure sophistication.
And here’s more of RiRi’s nips at the club and pictures of RiRi showing up to the Dior show today. I see she’s still auditioning hard for the role of Elvira Hancock in the Scarface remake.
The BET Honors celebrated the careers of Aretha Franklin, Ice Cube and Berry Gordy in DC on Saturday night and the horny butterfly unicorn princess Mimi paid tribute to Aretha’s 8th world wonder chichis by squeezing and propping up her own tits during her performance. Yes, Aretha Franklin’s sleeping walrus chichis could easily eat Mimi’s tits whole and Aretha’s nipples are bigger than Mimi’s chest domes, but it was still a nice and fitting homage. (Although, every damn occasion is an occasion for Mimi to bring her tits out.)
While her oversized concha bread titties tried to hold onto that tit tape and keep from popping out of her elegant gown, Mimi rolled around on a piano like a grizzly bear with fleas scratching its back and yodeled out her new song “You’re Mine.” Here’s more of Mimi looking like a half drunken Capri Sun pouch (copyright: the always right Fresh) dressed up like Jessica Rabbit (“I’m not bad, I’m just Photoshopped that way“) at the BET Honors which airs later this month. Everything about this look is dignified and regal from her armpit cleavage to the top of her Spanx coming out to play.
I have been sitting here for 20 minutes trying to think of something nice to say about Tan Mom, and all I could come up with is the following:
- Her eyes are in the right place
- She is wearing black, and black is a color
- We can’t see any active sores or lesions, so that’s good
- It appears she’s not attacking a drag queen
Even that last one is a bit of a stretch, since I can’t confirm what she did before or after this picture was taken. But if we know anything about Tan Mom – and trust me, we know too much – it’s that she probably got drunk and tried to fight something other than her own personal demons.
For those of you looking at this picture and thinking ‘To what do we owe this awful, filthy-looking pleasure?’ Tan Mom graced everyone with her presence last night at Howard Stern’s 60th birthday party in New York. I guess Howard had a spot to fill on his guest list under the column marked ‘drunk-as-fuck sadness piles’ and since White Oprah’s too busy penning the Great American Novel, he sent a cab over to New Jersey to pick up the next best thing.
And Tan Mom didn’t disappoint; she rolled up to the red carpet looking like a wasted Goldie Hawn hand puppet took a shit on a crate of rotten clementines. She also drew the number 60 on her arm, although it looks more like she had started writing GO but fell asleep before she could finish writing GET ME HELP. As for her mouth: I didn’t know Tyrone Biggums made lipstick. But all of this pales in comparison to when she dropped to the floor to fix her shoes and flashed her Tan Snatch on the way back up. You can see the crotch shot below, and my gut instinct tells me it might be NSFW, but truthfully – I’m not entirely sure we’re even looking at a crotch. It’s more of a David Lynch-ian oven-roasted chicken wing.