What In The Craft Project Hell…..

England’s finest rose is a beacon of understated elegance from her “Raggedy Ann after a $2 blowout” weave to her Spalding-made titty balls to her Bad-era Michael Jackson tattoo and all the way down to her graceful hooves. And Jodie Marsh’s precious feet only deserve the best, which is why she slipped them into a pair of exquisitely crafted heels that are so delicate they make Cinderella’s lucite slippers look like some knock-off CROCs from Payless. Don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t achieve high levels of luxury with a hot glue gun, a can of gold spray paint, a couple of dead crows, a string of black Cheerios anal beads and some shit you stole from a 5th grader’s diorama project on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

But seriously, what is that dark-sided shit on Jodie’s feets? Those aren’t shoes, they’re a traveling black magic witch ceremony. I see those chicken feet voodoo dolls. Everyone around her got the heaves and they figured it was from looking at the fugness on her feet. But no, with every step Jodie took, she cast a black magic curse on them. Cleanse the blasphemy from your monitor screen with a holy water wipe.

Jodie is usually the epitome of sophistication, so we shouldn’t hold this one fuck-up against her. Jodie made it up to us later when she went on ITV1’s This Morning and told them that she recently honored her late grandma in a very special way:

“I had her ashes crushed up into the ink and tattooed in to me and I feel like she’s with me forever now.”

Here I was thinking that the best way to honor your grandma is by having her ashes turned into a diamond nipple ring. Leave it to Jodie Marsh to show us how a classy tribute is really done.

The World Almost Lost England’s Finest Rose

Now you know that if Mr. Hankey and Red Sonja consummated their union on a mountain of HGH syringes, their love child would be the most naturally beautiful thing to ever scoot across your eyes. And to think, this thing of beauty might not have ever existed. Thinking about a world without bodybuilding Jodie Marsh is like thinking about a world without anti-chafing gel. Let’s not think of that world.

England’s Finest Rose tells The Sun that the world of bodybuilding saved her life and gave her a reason to go on. Before Jodie kept the muscles in her body muscly by downing 21 egg whites, brown rice and protein shakes a day (that really is her daily diet), she was on the verge of ending it all. Jodie couldn’t take assholes using, cheating, beating her and not treating her like the polished crown jewel she is. Jodie was already on the floor from being treated like shit by boyfriends, and beauty-hating minions of Hell kicked her while she was down. Jodie says that after she was evicted from the Celebrity Big Brother house in 2006, nasty whores treated her like trash and drove her to almost driving her truck into the Grim Reaper’s open arms:

“About six months after Celebrity Big Brother I decided I was going to kill myself. The quickest way to do it was to drive my truck into a post, so I started working out which one to use and how fast I’d need to be going. I was sick of everyone being so horrible to me. I’d walk down the road and people would say, ‘You’ve got a dodgy nose, you’ve got saggy tits’ and they’d think that was fine. If I didn’t respond, they’d throw something at me — usually a bottle or drinks can. I just got worn down by it. All I could think about was that I needed to drive myself into one of these poles. But I didn’t do it. I got to the pub sobbing. I was having a meltdown.”

Like bronzed, muscled Phoenix with a six-pack on its anus lips, she rose from the ashes of hate and is now more confident than ever:

“I can honestly say these are the best years of my life. I can’t even describe how good it is just to finally feel like I am doing something positive. I’ve always wanted to do something good but people would never take me seriously. Now they are. I feel so fit and healthy and ripped and strong. It’s so good to put the bad times behind me.”

Jodie has won a few championships in the UK and recently won a world championship in DC.

Thank God, Jesus and Bea Arthur that those funny donut looking things people pickup at gyms exist, because if they didn’t the world might’ve lost Jodie Marsh. If we lost Jodie Marsh, every drop of silicone would dry up, roses would never grown again, elegance wouldn’t have a name anymore, genitals would never get up in the morning and the British ho stroll would no longer be as naturally beautiful. Worst world ever.

Jodie Marsh Bravely Opens Up About Her Exploding Titty Trauma

This might come as a shock to you, but the finest rose in England wasn’t totally sculpted by the hand of Mother Nature out of organic materials. The scalpel of a surgeon and a Hoover Dam’s worth of silicone was used to elevate Jodie Marsh’s beauty to goddess-like levels. But if Jodie could do it all over again, she’d keep her natural beauty intact and would never allow her chichis to be touched by a back alley plastic surgeon who obviously got off from overflowing water balloons as a child.

Jodie told the prestigious British medical journal Heat Magazine (via The Sun) that a week after she got two bowling ball bags full of cooking gel fuel stuffed into her chest, her world became a horror show as her new implants tried to free themselves of her body. Jodie is sharing her story four years later, because she needs a check she wants all women out there to know that if you fill your body with implants that are bigger than your head, you could end up with a scar that looks like the face of Mickey Rourke.

“When I woke up, they were so swollen. The first dressing was taken off after a week or so – that’s when I saw that I wasn’t healing. As the stitches started popping out of my skin, there was no skin to hold the incision together. My boobs looked like they were exploding. It was so painful. There was green pus coming out of my boobs and they constantly bled.

I had to change the dressings every day and was in such discomfort I couldn’t work – I basically sat at home depressed for a year. I wish I’d never had them done. People should realise that every boob job has the potential to become a horror story.”

Jodie doesn’t think her gigantic plastic boob domes look good with her new He-Man muscle body, but she’s not going to go under the knife again out of fear that she’ll have to suffer through a sequel to Nightmare on My Titties.

You can’t spell Jodie Marsh without p-e-r-f-e-c-t. No, really, try it. Type out p-e-r-f-e-c-t without the spaces and your system (or whatever) will autocorrect it to “Jodie Marsh.” So Jodie doesn’t need to change anything about herself, she’s Jodie Marsh (DAMN autocorrect) just the way she is. Besides, nobody really notices Jodie’s huge tits, because we’re all transfixed by the Museum of Modern Clip Art running down her arm.

Jodie Marsh’s Hymen Has Magically Grown Back

Your eyeballs deserve to be fertilized with drops of pure elegance this morning, so please use your mousepad as a Ouija Board and tell it take you to natural beauty. Your mouse will drag you to this NSFW link featuring England’s Finest Rose posing as a tundra slut in the middle of a frozen dick garden. Doctor’s recommend a daily dose of sophistication as part of a healthy lifestyle and you will get a week’s worth if you stare at Jodie Marsh’s nibbled-on sausage coins long enough.

Jodie brought her completely organic titty domes out for the prestigious journal of refinement called The Sun and she also gave them an interview where she talked about how she’s been virginized. It’s been so long since anybody has tapped on Jodie’s pristine oyster (or as the Health Department calls it, “A free pass to the clinic!”) and a cherry pearl has magically grown inside of her sugar shell making her a virgin again.

“I find it so hard to trust men now that I always wait for ages before agreeing to sex. I’ve had so many shit men in my life that I get scared of letting go. I’m basically celibate and like a virgin again. God knows what it would take to sleep with me now! If I could kiss anyone under the mistletoe this Christmas, it would have to be Gerard Butler or Tom Hardy.”

Every maker of topical ointment for genital warts just opened up their windows and jumped to their death since there’s no reason to go one. It’s true, though. Jodie is as pure on the inside as she is on the outside. She has left her shameless slut ways behind her. Need some proof? Well, during this photo shoot, she did get gang banged by those giant dickcicles, but she only let them stick the tip in, so you know she’s a changed whore.

England’s Finest Rose Is Looking Fresher Than Ever

It’s been 51 days since my last post about Jodie “The Body” Marsh and that’s 51 days too many without gazing at her pinched penis nose and her “fried not baked” ripple tits. The angel of the globe brought her beauty to the The Global Angel Awards in London last night and showed everyone what a Claymation Jenna Jameson would look like if it was beat in the face with a Claymation Sandra Bullock. The answer is the definition of natural gorgeousness.

Jodie sets the beauty trends (OBVIOUSLY!), so soon we’ll all be visiting our Craigslist plastic surgeons to give us a melted spade nose and chichis that look like silicone sacks are trying to hatch out of them. If Shrunken Head Guy from Beetlejuice got a makeover on The Swan, this is what it would look like. I swear, Jodie’s nose looks like a game of Jenga. I could just scream JENGA!!! at it over and over again while swatting at the hair curtain covering half of her face. Absolute perfection.

Like A Rose Trying To Bloom….

There’s been so much foolish ugliness on Dlisted lately from Lindsay Lohan’s meth lasagna mouth to the crazy bus memaw beating on a special needs kid, so I figured we could all use a heavy dose of demure beauty in the form of a potpourri pot full of England’s finest rose Jodie Marsh! Exquisite doesn’t even begin to describe….

Jodie left a London hospital, where she selflessly volunteers her time by being a human bouquet of flowers for the poor sickly, the other night and graciously blessed the lenses of several cameras with her Shroud of Pete Burns face. It’s as if someone gently placed her head in one of those paint can shakers at Home Depot, turned it on and started throwing oil-based varnish and paintbrush bristles at her. The result is what a talking Real Doll would call, “iiiiiiinspiring.”

Jodie’s nose is what I think the penises of the angels look like in heaven. A penis with wings! And now we know why Ron Paul’s brow wig tried to sneak off of his face. It heard of an eyebrow Shangri-La in the UK and it was about to start the journey toward it. If you see his eyebrow toupee sitting in coach on a flight to London, don’t say a thing.

And if you want to share this beauty with your loved ones, FTD is offering a bouquet made of these pictures for a limited time. (Yes, I set up that STD joke for you. Happy Friday!)