If you’ve ever looked at a picture of Kim Kardashian and found yourself feeling the same way you did that time you ate a rotten Filet-O-Fish sandwich, take comfort in knowing that you’re not alone. According to The Daily Mail, an Exeter man named Mike Amess (oh, he’s a mess, alright) is claiming that he’s developed a phobia of the Kardashians, wherein he breaks out in a cold sweat if he hears their voices, and that the sight of a semi-nude Kim will make him vomit. Someone needs to tell Mike Amess that that’s not a phobia, that’s just called being human.
The 24-year-old said it all began back in high school, when he watched Kim’s sex tape in an attempt to try to repress his sexuality (oh, big mistake, Mike Amess; that’s like trying to get over your fear of the ocean by watching JAWS):
“I downloaded the video and watched it secretly in my bedroom. But the sight of Kim writhing around with her huge bum and the sound of her horrible high-pitched wailing repulsed me. By the end of the tape, I had burst into tears. The experience left me terrified and I never wanted to see Kim’s face again. I have come to terms with my homosexuality now but my dread towards her has never left.”
Mike Amess claims that his phobia has only gotten more traumatic over the years, due to the fact that Satan’s shameless hookers are everywhere, and while he tries his best to avoid triggers like television, magazines, and Craigslist postings for dumpy-looking slug prostitutes (hey, even snails need to get laid), sometimes he’s unsuccessful, like when Kanye West released Bound 2:
“One day, I was lazing about on the sofa in front of the TV. I was skipping through music channels and that video came on. Seeing Kim naked, with her boobs bouncing about like that brought back memories of that horrendous sex tape. Before I knew it, I was sweating like a pig and throwing up.”
“We can totally relate” – the crew from the Bound 2 shoot.
A doctor, who does not treat Mike Amess, claims that while his phobia is super-rare and proooooobablyyyyy made up, there is a chance he is actually terrified of the Kardashians and Mike Amess should get some therapy so he can eventually change his name to Mike LessOfAmess.
And regardless of whether or not Mike is telling the truth (he’s probably not, but I love him anyways) he should get help, and if there’s one person who can cure you of your phobia fears, it’s Maury Povich and a dude dressed up as whatever you’re afraid of. Quickly Maury! Dress a staffer up as a nasal-voiced, fake-assed porn star and help Mike Amess!
Sure, you can be jealous of Mimi for having a savings account that looks like the inside of Scrooge McDuck’s gold vault and for having the largest collection of Hello Kitty shit outside of Asia, but there’s a real reason to be jealous of the rainbow butterfly Wuzzle duchess. The name “Kardashian” has never passed through the unicorn queef bubble she lives in. The name “Kim Kardashian” is as foreign to Mimi as the word “no” is.
Mimi’s well-trained toy husband Nick Cannon was on Howard Stern yesterday whoring out his latest little project to remind people once again that he has jobs outside of being Mr. Mariah Carey (uh huh) and Howard brought up Kim Katrashian’s name. Howard said that Mimi was upset that Nick once stuck it in Kim’s 2nd Street Tunnel pussy, but Nick says that isn’t so, because she knows Kim as well as she knows JLo. via UsWeekly
“You know, I don’t think so, no. ‘Cause honestly, my wife, she don’t even know who Kim Kardashian is. She doesn’t pay attention to that. I think it was more about the fact…[that I spent] time on my past.”
You might’ve thrown a “Wuzzle,please” look at that statement since all of us can’t turn our heads without our cheeks brushing up against Kim’s greasy silicone factory of an ass and Mimi would make Nick throw shade so she doesn’t have to, but I actually believe this. Because here’s a comprehensive and accurate list of the people that Mariah Carey doesn’t know.
1. Everyone not named Mariah Carey. The end.
Mimi probably doesn’t even know who Nick Cannon is most of the time. Her life is like that 50 First Dates movie. Every morning, she wakes up, looks at Nick likes he’s a stranger and after he explains to her who he is, she says, “oh,” before staring at herself in the mirror above her bed for two hours.
And here’s Mimi posing with some tea while leaving Terry Richardson‘s studio in NYC last night. Mimi is truly a refined lady, because she made sure to wipe Uncle Terry’s jizz off of her glasses with that tissue paper before she came out to pose for those paps.
I thought I’d be strong enough to handle this, but I was so wrong. Immediately after I saw this picture of my beautiful earth angel Bruce Jenner smiling and holding hands with that morally bankrupt Botox dumpster Pimp Mama Kris - a she-devil I was certain he was free from the clutches of, mind you – I started cycling through the Kübler-Ross model of 5 stages of grief. At first I was in denial (“He’s just escorting a Michael Jackson impersonator through the airport!”), then anger (I broke every dish, glass, and crystal unicorn in my home, and lit a box of Wheaties on fire), bargaining (“Do you want me to carve up my nose into a silly putty penis?? I’ll do it! I’ll do anything to keep you from returning to that evil hag!”), followed by depression (listening to this song on repeat while weeping loudly on the kitchen floor).
But I finally reached acceptance. I’m a strong woman who can get over the hurt Juicy Brucie has caused. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Oh for fucks sakes, who am I kidding? I’m still at anger and depression. As of right now, I’m typing with one hand and tearing up my favorite pin-ups of Brucie while screaming the lyrics to “I Can’t Make You Love Me” at full-volume. Somebody PLEASE send the following to my apartment: 2 Fudgie the Whale cakes, 10 therapy dogs (puppies pls), and Kelly Clarkson to sing “Stronger”. It’s going to be a long night.
Here’s more of that cold heartless bitch Brucie Jenner joyfully prancing around with Satan’s most sickening slut (no, literally; Satan can barely get through a blow job without barfing all over her head) at LAX. Trailing closely behind, of course, is Kash Kow Kim, looking the definition of tacky and cheap, along with The No-Talent Trio: Khloe-tron, The Model One, and notoriously good hitter Marla Hooch:
How fitting: a place famous for taking two buns and stuffing them with greasy questionable meat topped with plastic cheese volunteering to cater the wedding of a cheesy plastic-faced woman most famous for stuffing greasy questionable meat in her buns.
Burger King responded to a story released earlier this week by the Daily Star that said Kanye West was planning on buying 10 European Burger King restaurants as a wedding present for the Grade-F meat patty herself, Kim Kardashian; and knowing that it was most likely untrue, and proving that they have a good sense of humour, they released the following statement to NME:
Burger King Corp. is familiar with the recent news stories regarding Kanye West and Kim Kardashian. We are unaware of any purchase of BURGER KING® restaurants made by either Mr. West or Ms. Kardashian, but we’re available to cater the wedding!
If Kim and Kanye were smart, they’d take Burger King up on that offer, because the scent of Whoppers and BK onion rings is the only thing strong enough to mask the stench of their obnoxious shit-show of a wedding. Plus, the promise of Burger King also works as an incentive to get people to actually show up, since there probably won’t be an open bar (Pimp Mama Kris is a cheap penny-pinching pimp). Then again, the lure of Whoppers might not be enough to make people want to risk being trampled to death by Khloe and The Sock One during the bouquet toss.
The good news is this rumor is coming from the UK tabloid Heat (via the Mirror) which means it’s most likely as fake and fraudulent as everything the Kardashians do and it was also probably leaked (sorry for that word mixed with that picture) by Pimp Mama Kris herself to build up her ~kool mom~ kred. The bad news is that the life-killing image of Pimp Mama Kris’ naked and Photoshopped body sprawled onto the pages of Playboy has already been burned into the deepest part of your brain and side effects of that include stopping fuck times with your piece halfway through to go into the shower and cry while rubbing Irish Spring onto your eyeballs.
Some source (read: either PMK herself or the makers of Dramamine who want to boost sales by giving the public non-stop nausea) said that PMK feels like her body is Playboy-ready and now is the time to spread her KKK maker in Playboy. The source farted this nugget out:
“Kris has been talking about posing for Playboy magazine for a while now. She’s in the best shape of her life and is keen to show it off. The bikini shot she posted on Instagram recently was well received that she’s said, ‘Why not?’”
PMK led Kim Kartrashian down the fame whore path to becoming the fame whore of all fame whores and now she’s following in her prized ho’s fame whore steps. First comes the sex tape, second comes the Playboy spread. Actually, first comes the sex tape, second comes the death of civilization, because I don’t think humanity can survive after a PMK sex tape. But I refuse to believe that Hugh Hefner would let this happen. ANYBODY but PMK on the cover of Playboy! If it happened, Hugh Heffa needs to officially retire from making decisions beyond choosing between tapioca or vanilla and choosing between the bleached blonde with the DDDs or the bleached blonde with the EEEs to screw.
Here’s the Kartrashians at LAX last night before getting on a flight to Korea, and sadly I don’t mean North Korea.
And they would have had all 4, but Kris Jenner wasn’t able to reschedule her appointment with Satan (it’s tax time and he’s suuuuper busy). So it was just a greasum threesome between frightening lifelike praying mantis Anna Wintour, human basket of kittens Kanye West, and the heavily-sedated slow-roasted turkey leg know as Kim Kardashian. Anna, Kanye, and Kim all went out to celebrate successfully pulling off the world’s most elaborate and rotten April Fool’s prank by going out for dinner and bathing in the blood of a sacrificial ram slaughtered beneath the pits of Hell. I’m just speculating, of course; I didn’t actually see them eating dinner.
Some of you may be looking at Kim and wondering what in the name of The Sock One would posses someone to go out for a fancy dinner in nothing but her underwear and a dining room table runner. It’s just Kim’s way of reminding everyone that just because her kurdled milk ass has graced the cover of a high-class magazine like Vogue, she’s still the same old hooker-looking call girl you know and love. For more information regarding pricing and services, please contact Pimp Mama Kris at 1-800-KIMPIMP.
Here’s more of the Triad of Terror out for dinner last night. I’m having trouble trying to figure out exactly what color Kim’s sausage casing is, because it’s not quite green and it’s not quite brown. Hideous taupe? Is hideous taupe a color? Rotten tuna caught in a net of trash? Hold on, let me get out my 64 box of Crayolas…
Supermodel, proud mega bitch and gold medal-winning BlackBerry-thrower Naomi Campbell was on Australia’s The Morning Show today and since she’s been on the cover of US Vogue before, she was asked for her thoughts on the cover that will soon grace the bottom of thousands of birds cages. If you’re Nan from American Horror Story: Coven and can read minds, you’d probably hear a tornado of fuck words forming in Naomi’s head as she turns on her filter. You can see the words, “Fuck Kanye! Fuck Kim! Fuck Anna! Fuck Vogue!,” form in Naomi’s brain and after they pass through her filter, she says, “I do not want to comment.” And then she let out a blood-freezing, bitchified villainess cackle that’d even make Lucifer’s fluffer Pimp Mama Kris run for cover. Here’s Kylie and Naomi’s little conversation about the “Nail in the Coffin” issue of Vogue.
Kylie: What do you think of Kim and Kanye’s US Vogue cover, given that you have been on the cover yourself countless times?
Naomi: I do not want to comment.
Naomi: Bahahahahahahahhahaaa…. Because I am a fashion model and I’ve been working for 28 years. When you get a Vogue cover, it’s a build in your career, it’s a stepping stone to achieve that. I’m a fashion model, so what more can I say?
Kylie: So you think that Kim and Kanye haven’t earned the right to be on the cover of Vogue?
Naomi: Those are YOUR words. I’m being politically correct. That’s Anna Wintour’s choice to put them on the cover of her magazine. Who’s to question it?
Kylie: Well, I just did.
Naomi’s only response should’ve been this:
Yes, Naomi, snatch the stubble off of Kanye’s bald head with that cackle. Yes, Naomi, yank Kim’s hair until her hairline is on a missing poster next to your hairline. That GIF should really be filed as the official response to that cover.
And in case you didn’t hear it the first time or the second time, Naomi is A. FASHION. MODEL. A. FASHION. MODEL. So she knows!
Vogue is really going full troll for their April Fool’s Month issue with a Hobbit and a Gay Fish on the cover. Just like Ray-J’s boomerang dick over Kim Kardashian’s ass, pictures from the spread have leaked and they’re all made of one hundred percent ridiculousness, but this one of a scared North West and a maniacal Pimp Mama Kris takes it all. A dude with a tattoo sleeve throws a “ha, this is really happening” look as a suffocating Kim tries not to rip that too-small-dress open by breathing and PMK throws a creepy clown whore smile that any child should run from. The “looking for the nearest exit” side-eye that Baby Seaweed is giving tops it all off.
North is scared for her young life, because when you press your ear up to PMK’s face, you hear the sound of Lucifer cackling as his minions chant his name. North is also scared, because the last time she saw PMK holding a baby that close, PMK swallowed the baby whole before screaming about how her dark powers have been rejuvenated. So yeah, North isn’t exactly having a good time.
And seriously, this picture says so much.
Vogue didn’t stop there. The article is also full of foolery. Vogue’s Hamish Bowles did the interview and I’m guessing he strolled in, threw a blank notepad on the floor and said, “Write whatever you want, whores, I can’t with this. I’m going to Fatburger” instead. Because the article is full of delusional dingles like this:
“Anybody need anything?” asks the agelessly glamorous, apricot-skinned Kris, fluttering eyelashes as thick, long, and lustrous as a hummingbird’s wings. “Water? Vodka? Get on my train!” she laughs. “Just kidding!” Kris (who, as Kim notes, “goes by the name of Lovey, not Grandma!”) is an astute businesswoman and an executive producer of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, now in its eighth season. Her home office is stacked with Kardashian product and magazine spreads—there is even a framed copy of her estranged husband Olympic gold medalist Bruce Jenner’s 1979 GQ cover.
Are we sure HAMish didn’t run into Bruce Jenner instead and that’s who he’s describing in that paragraph? If by all of that Hamish means that PMK is “pathetically holding onto her youth,” has skin like Belphegor’s foreskin, eyelashes as thick and spiny as the tarantulas in the afterworld and is a shameless pimp, then he nailed it.
And in almost every picture, North West’s SOS face says it all and then some.
Pics: Vogue/Annie Leibovitz
Anna Wintour took a little time away from editing the May issue of Vogue with Courtney Stodden on the cover (I WISH!!!) to release her editor’s note explaining why she decided to put a soulless, hallowed out, talentless wax mannequin with the personality of popped bubble wrap on the April cover. Anna could’ve just said, “Um, I put Blake NotSoLively on the cover of Vogue TWICE, so putting soulless mannequins on the cover is sort of my thing as of late,” and we’d all be like, okay, okay, you’re right. But instead, the head madam of the Death Eaters spewed out some lukewarm shit about how Kim Kartrashian and Kanye West are currently the sheer definition of influential. Methinks Anna hasn’t been getting her usual supply of virgin’s blood and her brain isn’t operating at its fullest, because I’m pretty sure she’s mixing up “influential” and “influenza.” Here’s a piece of her note:
“Part of the pleasure of editing Vogue, one that lies in a long tradition of this magazine, is being able to feature those who define the culture at any given moment, who stir things up, whose presence in the world shapes the way it looks and influences the way we see it. I think we can all agree on the fact that that role is currently being played by Kim and Kanye to a T. (Or perhaps that should be to a K?)
As for the cover, my opinion is that it is both charming and touching, and it was, I should add, entirely our idea to do it; you may have read that Kanye begged me to put his fiancee on Vogue’s cover. He did nothing of the sort. The gossip might make better reading, but the simple fact of the matter is that it isn’t true.”
Death Eater, please. Here are the 4 reasons why Anna Wintour did it:
1. Every time she’d open her closet to pull out another $3,000 dress to wear, Kanye would pop out and scream, “PUTKIMONVOGUE!” Every time she opened up the door to the basement that’s full of the blood slaves she feeds from, Kanye would pop out and scream, “PUTKIMONVOGUE!” It screwed with her appetite, so she finally gave in.
2. Even though she’s a die-hard Death Eater, putting Kim on the cover gives her bonus points with the Illuminati.
3. Anna is a future-seer and knew that Buffy the Vampire Slayer would hate this. Buffy has killed a few of Anna’s kind, so this is payback.
4. She knows that shit will sell. Pimp Mama Kris will buy at least 200,000 copies to wallpaper the outside of her whore house headquarters with. And every medical professional will use the cover to treat patients with constipation. One look at Kim on the cover of Vogue and BOOM the runs.
Here’s Vogue’s newest
darling dingle going camera shopping while wearing a dress that a Midwestern, pregnant high school senior wore to her prom in 1968. The hell is she doing with her hands? Did someone ask her how wide her vag is or is she trying to make the Illuminati sign. Bitch can’t even make the Illuminati sign right.
And now Anna Wintour has officially officially entered the “fuck it” phase of her reign at Vogue. It really happened. Lazy amateur porn star turned fame whore of all fame whores Kim Kartrashian is on the cover the magazine that Pimp Mama Kris is going to roll up, lube up and fuck herself with until the end of time. I guess Kanye West threatened to release incriminating pictures of Anna Wintour buying fake UGGs from Walmart (or swallowing something other than virgin’s blood), because that’s the only reason I can come up with for this happening. That cover looks like the cover of a catalog from a David’s Bridal franchise in the 9th Circle of HELL. But I do love how Kanye’s hands are keeping a safe distance from Kim’s kooch. Of course, Kim is never going to stop barfing and queefing at the mouth about this and she immediately twatted about it. Newsflash, whore, you haven’t breathed for at least a couple of years since your body has been suffocating in a cocoon of Spanx.
Vogue also shat up a behind-the-scenes video which North West makes a cameo in. This is probably the fourth time (I’m being genius) that North has seen her parents in person. If that isn’t a “Harpo, who deez people?” look, I don’t know what is.
And Posh Beckham was just put on suicide watch.