And Here’s Another Ginger Gift….

No, this isn’t a newly found still from Julia Roberts’ screen test for Splash. This is Shaun White dressed in drag as The Little Mermaid.  The only thing that can top Carrot Bottom is anything that’s 7 inches or more is The Flying Tomato dressed up as Ariel for Halloqueen. You can tell Shauna White is all about this and I’m sure his back door ginger star fish is tingling something extra. You all should take the rest of the day off so you can go home and be left alone with your emotions.

via Buzzfeed

Taylor Moves Swiftly

I hate myself for a lot of headlines, but I really hate myself for that headline.

Three seconds ago, Taylor Swift was going from Barnes & Noble to Barnes & Noble, stuffing her head shot and bio into every copy of The Kennedy Women, because what she wanted more than anything in the world, besides a white pony with heart-shaped pupils, was to become a Kennedy. But now, the bitch is over it. Conor Kennedy dumped her Taylor, because she kept showing up to his homeroom wearing a replica of Jackie Kennedy’s wedding dress. Taylor Kennedy spent a whole day crying into the fire as she burned the towels and sheets she had monogrammed with the initials TK, but she’s done crying over a Kennedy and has already moved on to a new piece.

The Daily Mirror (I know, I know) says that fast-moving tramp trollop is now wrapping her heart around British singer/songwriter type Ed Sheeran. Taylor and Ed worked on a song together for her album Period, which proved that talking shit about your exes in sing song form is a money maker, and he’s going on tour with her next year. Some source said that Taylor and Ed are getting really close and they’re getting so close that he tattooed the word RED on his arm. Normally, I’d think that getting anything Taylor Swift-related tattooed on your body is like begging your family to 5150 your crazy ass,  but Ed’s tattoo isn’t that big of a deal. Ed can change it to REDRUM when she eventually breaks up with him, because she needs new inspiration and has to move on to the next trick.

Taylor Swift was hard up on getting in with the Kennedys and now it looks like she’s hard up on getting in with the ginger Hobbits. Tramp is trying to get into the Shire. If Taylor really wants in, she better move slow, because ginger Hobbits hate it when you make sudden, quick moves. It makes them scatter down into their hobbit-holes. Taylor better not screw this one up by trying to marry him in his sleep, because this one is a keeper. I’m only saying that, because if you smear actual raw ginger over your eyeballs and squint, he kind of sort of looks like the angel goddess of gingers Rojo Caliente.

See if you can tell the difference between the two. If you can’t tell the difference, then please run to your nearest church, throw yourself on the altar and beg God to forgive you for not recognizing his greatest creation.

In The Name Of All Things Rojo, I’ve Made a HUGE Mistake In Moving To L.A.!

I’m in L.A. and:

– It’s only 7:15 in the morning and it’s already so damn warm that I can run down the side of the freeway with nothing but ass lip mittens on.

– I’m so going to make french toast out of a Double Double and chutney out of off-ramp oranges for breakfast.

– And I’ve already been baptized as a born again citizen of Southern California by getting flipped off and called something that starts with an “f” (I’m thinking he called me a “funtabulous rascal,” but I’m pretty sure he called me a “fucking asshole“) when I tried to cut a Yaris off while driving out of the airport.

So, you’d think because of all of that I’d be spitting out smoggy rainbows of happiness. Well, I was until I saw these pictures that reminded me one very, VERY, very important thing: THERE’S NO ROJO CALIENTE IN LOS ANGELES! I was so blinded by the shine of weed cards and Jack In The Box dollar tacos that I completely forgot about this. Why didn’t any of you bitches remind me! Sure, I can troll the aisles of some Home Depot, find a fat chola butchie and ask her to please put an orange Tupperware bowl on her head so I won’t be so gingersick, but it won’t be the same. WHAT HAVE I DONE? We have to go back, Kate! We have to go back to the island!

And these pictures of Cynthia Nixon, Rojo and Little Rojo Christ strolling around NYC were taken in the middle of the night. Yes, the curly rays of sun on Little Rojo Christ’s head are that illuminating.

Chicken Cutlets Takes Florida!

Monday has happened to all of us again and some of you are sitting in your cubicle prison looking for a reason to go on. Well, stop making a noose out of paper clips, because there is a reason to go on now that international supermodel and Hot Babe forever, Phoebe Price, is taking her signature pose game across state lines! Everybody on television keeps telling my ass that NYC is going to be hotter than a freckle on a ginger cat’s pussy today and now I know why. The heat is rising from the piping hot poses Chicken Cutlets threw down in Miami yesterday afternoon.

Looking like a photo shoot for Chickens Magazine: Swimsuit Edition, PP posed for the paps despite the fact that a flock of raver birds died on her ginger mane after crashing into the side of her head. Glamour doesn’t stop for bird carcasses clinging to your weave. I checked CNN and they haven’t yet reported on why Chicken Cutlets is in Florida, but I’m guessing she’s there on a goodwill mission as the official Ambassador of the Ho Stroll. Oh Florida, you just keep finding new ways to keep your title as the fuckery capital of the world.

Be Still My Ginger-Loving Heart

You’d think I’d be all into the WWE since they’re in the business of serving up drama queen theatrics, staged cat fights, man nipple-to-man nipple action and Spandex-swathed crotches, but I’m not. So this is the time first that my retinas have been singed by the glorious ginger god from Ireland Sheamus! (My ho stroll nickname is Shame Ass. It’s meant to be!)

The only thing I know about Sheamus is that he body slammed a trick at the WWE Smack Down in Dublin last night, has epic thighs that look like a whole chicken getting pulled out of a can, can make lighting by clapping his ass cheeks (I read this in the mythology section of Wiki), can keep a small village warm with the flaming hearth on his head and when he flutters his eyelashes it looks like two fireflies dancing in the night. I know that last part, because I made a flip book with these pictures. Yes, that’s Sheamus’ cue to head directly to the restraining order office.

And to answer your question, yes, I already Photoshopped my smiling face and gut on this picture.

Behold, Rojo Junior!

So that’s why it’s almost like summer in NYC. It’s isn’t from global warming (it’s totally from global warming)! It’s because the apparent heir to the American ginger throne, 1-year-old Max Ellington Nixon-Marinoni (Prince MEN-M) is heating up the sidewalks with the curly halo of flames on his head. No, Cynthia Nixon’s hair didn’t burn off from being that close to Max’s short fro of sparks. Cynthia shaved it all off to do Wit on Broadway.

The rapture has been re-scheduled for a later date, because the world can’t end now that a miniature Rojo is here. Prince Max saved us all!!! (See also: ginger babies are the best.)