Aaaand I’m back from my vacation in Mehico and yes, I swallowed the tequila worm and sadly no, that’s not a euphemism. Thanks to Allison, J. Harvey and Lahoma for covering for my ass while I spent my mornings flirting with the members of the Mexican Navy who tried to rescue me after mistaking me for a malnourished, beached seal and spent my afternoon writing, “But what about the cum?“, to every goddamn friend who texted me with, “You’re in Mexico? Don’t drink the water!”
There’s no better way to end my first full day back than by posting stunning pictures of the opulent German blossom who bloomed in the Garden of Chola Beauty after Glamberace’s seed was fertilized with Liberace’s tears and a melted Sharpie. Harald Glööckler debuted his new equestrian line (???) at Spoga Horse in Cologne, Germany yesterday. That Maleficent horse he’s posing with was actually a living, breathing, galloping, blood relative of Trace Cyrus until Harald touched it and it turned into pure gold. Even though it’s an inanimate object and its eyes are made of glass, that gold horse still looks shocked to be so close to such understated glamour.
You’d think that the world’s saddest-looking pussy would be attached to the crotch of Justin Bieber’s one-night side piece who heard him say, “It’s in balls deep, babe, TAKE IT,” after she said to him, “Okay you can stop pinky fingering me and give me the salchicha already,” but this sad-looking pussy has that sad-looking pussy and all the sad-looking pussies beat.
This is Tucker, an adorable ball of fur who was born with a genetic condition that always makes her look like you on a Tuesday morning after a 3-day holiday weekend. Metro says that Tucker was brought into the Purrfect Pals adoption center Arlington, WA after her human wasn’t able to take care of her anymore for whatever reason. Tucker has a genetic abnormality that causes her face to droop and she bruises easily, so she has to always wear a protective shirt. Tucker’s bio (which has since been deleted) on Purrfect Pals’ site says that even though she’s got a lot of ills, she’s got a lot of love to give and she really loves children. Can’t you tell? That’s her “I really love children” face above.
Tucker came to Purrfect Pals when her owners could no longer keep her. She is a very unique looking cat due to some genetic abnormalities but is very cute and lovable! Because some of her joints are not constructed normally, we have to be careful to provide steps and other accommodations so she won’t hurt herself. Tucker also has an auto-immune disease that makes her skin very thin and easy to bruise. She also has hair loss because of scabs that she pulls off. We have to keep her dressed in t-shirts to prevent her from doing too much damage to her skin. Tucker enjoys sitting on laps and playing with string toys! She also loves to be pet under the chin and behind the ears and is great with children!
Tucker’s bio went viral a few days ago, so I’m sure she’s already been adopted, because who wouldn’t want a cat who expresses your feelings about most things perfectly.
To celebrate Wiz Khalifa’s album, Blacc Hollywood, hitting the number 1 spot on the Billboard 200, his exquisite former-stripper wife Amber Rose paid tribute to her husband’s career milestone in the most Amber Rose-ian way possible: by recording a video of her twerking her all-natural XXL booty balls in her underwear in front of a fireplace and a portrait of her husband and posting it to Instagram. It’s videos like this that totally explain why Amber Rose changed her name from her born name, Amber Levonchuck: a demure goddess that’s as delicate as the dewdrop on a pristine rose petal should have a name to match.
Obviously if you’re going to acknowledge someone’s accomplishments, a half-naked twerk-o-gram is the way to go. Fuck flowers! If I did a good job, I’d be thrilled to receive a jiggling ass. Then again, if Michael K surprised me a twerk-o-gram, productivity would drop to 0.00%, because both of us would be too busy marveling at such booty beauty to get any damn work done.
And is it just me, or does Amber Rose look exactly like a come-to-life version of one of the Amazonians from Futurama?
Video: Amber Rose
Who would have though that a video of a chihuahua blissing the fuck out while napping under a tiny Korean newspaper as a set of rotating rubber testicles gently massage away his little leg-humping worries would be the most relaxing thing I’d see all week? This video is more relaxing than taking a Calgon bath with Bob Ross while a basket of kittens dump a bucket of cotton balls over your head. Part of me wishes I could wake up every morning to the image of this little butterscotch nugget resting comfortably on two sets of battery-operated Truck Nutz (really, what even is that massager), but I’m afraid it might make me too calm. I don’t want to start writing shit like “Blessed be, it’s ethereal goddess Kim Kardashian exuding gentle energy and soulful light while posing with her tits out in an Instagram selfie.” And trust, nobody wants that less that me.
The only thing that could make this video any more perfect than it already is would be to set it to some Enya and loop it so that it played for at least 60 minutes. That way, I could bring it with me the next time I go to the dentist and really namaste away all my stress. Or just let me bring that dog with me when I go? Hit me up, hypnotic chihuahua!
Originally I had a cut-out of Ice-T’s face over CoCo’s stunning butter-basted buttcrack because I thought the sight of CoCo’s delicate g-string covered clamshell may be too much sophistication for some people’s eyes. But Michael K informed me that attempting to censor CoCo’s beauty is considered a Class A felony and he’d call the police on my ass if I dared to commit such a serious crime. So here it is, in all its lubed-up glory, just as God had intended.
Ice-T and CoCo are currently in Barbados on vacation from who cares they don’t need a reason, and as always, CoCo didn’t forget to pack her suitcase full of taste and class. CoCo was spotted (“spotted” – as if you could miss her) frolicking along the beach before asking permission from Poseidon if she could enter the water, because obviously she would’t want to shock the ocean with a high level of refined beauty and kill all the fishes. CoCo is thoughtful like that.
And I’ve just received notice that shortly after CoCo went for a swim, all the mermaids got together and decided to change their name to mercocos.
Just when you were starting to think that the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge hit peak fame whore and had officially gone from the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge to the Ay! Look At Me Ice Bucket Challenge, the intergalactic space flower Bai Ling has taken it to new levels of MESS.
The delicate and demure sphinx cat who mutated into an alien when a flaming asteroid hit it many years ago was challenged by her overlord E.T. (at least I think that’s what she said) and she did the challenge on the beach in Santa Monica, CA in front of the paps she called while wearing a white tank midriff SANS bikini top. Because nothing brings awareness to ALS like Bai Ling’s gigantic, wet baby pacifier nipples. If it rains in L.A. today, it’s from Lou Gehrig crying out buckets of tears, because he’s so moved and touched by Bai Ling’s act of charity for ALS.
Before and after the challenge, Bai did a sexy, bikini photo shoot (because DUH) and she also wrote about it on Facebook and compared it to Chinese Water Torture:
Cookie: Lets take the challenge in life, no matter what it will be. Even if it is a water torture like the I had. Cause the experience will add something in your spirit.
“Yes, something in my spirit was definitely added while watching this video,” said some perv fapping to it.
The camera guy shouting, “Let me see your face,” at Bai like he’s a Bang Bus camera guy shouting at a girl who just got a money shot to the mug really adds an elegant touch to this inspirational video. Only Bai, only Bai….
If you asked me which HGTV star I’d want to see in their panties, my first choice would be Scott McGillivray, then Jamie Durie and lastly Suzanne Whang (because one should never forget the first and best voice queen of House Hunters!). Neither of those Property Brothers would be on my list, but I’ll still take it.
Because the Emmys red carpet is crowded and a trick has to pull some stunts to get the photographers to take their cameras off of Christina Hendricks’ magnificent chichis and put it on them, Jonathan Silver Scott, one of the human boxes of Feria for Men known as the Property Brothers, pulled up his kilt and served up some Magic To Do bulge while posing with his brothers Drew and J.D. Scott last night. What’s missing from this picture is the other brother Drew looking at that bulge while saying, “I know, I know, it needs work, but it TOTALLY has potential.”
The Property Brothers have always reminded me of this ceramic Jesus statue that my abuelita bought at the border in Tijuana for $3 at most. For some reason, her Jesus statue had short hair and as time went on, it had chips and nicks all over its body and face. So every time I watch the Property Brothers, I think of that Tijuana-made, bootleg, short-haired ceramic Jesus statue in my abuelita’s room. But you know, I still would. Don’t tell my abuelita.
While a bunch of youngins (and some toddlers) were spending their Sunday strutting their fast metabolisms and wrinkle-free faces and ability to get hammered without also getting a 2-day hangover (seriously why does that happen to me now) at the VMAs, former Full House hottie and current stone-cold Greek yogurt fox John Stamos was proudly taking half-naked bathroom selfies of his 51-year-old body. Sorry 21-year-olds! You may be able to eat a McGangBang without needing a nap and a Lipitor, but you can’t compete with the panty-dropping power of a shirtless (and almost pantsless) Uncle Jesse!
John Stamos uploaded this picture of himself pulling a classic ‘dad who just discovered Match.com’ pose to Instagram with the caption: “51 no filters F’ it”, and I know that means 51-years-old, no filters, and fuck it, but it’s more fun to pretend he’s using AOL chatroom shorthand to describe his dick. “HabMursay51: Hey u, wanna party? 51 centimeters (Stamos uses the metric system), no filters (circumcised), F it (one size fits most). Message me if u want some greek yogurt, if u know what i mean.”
This is usually where Michael K would ask “Would you hit it?”, but that question seems redundant, since you’d have to have a brain made from Kimmy Gibler’s nasty socks not to want to hit it to the attic and back. So instead I’ll ask “Would you like to know what the hell is going on with John Stamos’s belly button?”. Because I sure as hell would! Why is it so close to his nipples? Why is it so far away from The Rippers (aka his dick and balls)? Speaking of balls, why does it look like a tiny pair of chihuahua testicles? (“…and would you hit it?” – Michael K).
The risk of getting metal poisoning on her pussy is a small price to pay to bring true demure glamour to the VMAs!
Earlier this morning, Amber Rose broke into Rose McGowan’s house, went to the back of Rose’s closet, pulled out the original SLUT DRESS Rose wore to the VMAs a million years ago and used it as the blueprint for her own VMAs “dress” (for lack of a better word). While I’m all for Amber Rose looking like a cross between the sex slave of a Home Depot store manager (he gets a good discount on metal chains) and the least popular day-shift stripper at a Thunderdome-themed strip club, I CAN NOT with her channeling the goddess of VMAs elegance Rose McGowan without showing her ass crack or tit knobs!!
If you’re going for “Rose McGowan at the 1998 VMAs” and your nipples aren’t able to breathe in the night air and your fried zucchini flower doesn’t make an appearance when you bend over, then you’re doing it wrong.
But you know, all that chain link is going to come in handy tonight. Because the audience can use it to haul Beyonce and her five ton ego off of the stage when she’s 8 minutes into her 15 minute set. Her setlist has leaked and apparently she’s doing a medley of her entire fucking album and it’s going to last 15 minutes. Bitches should just change the VMAs to the BAAs (Beyonce Appreciation Awards) and call it a day.
My hotel in Mehico doesn’t get MTV (but it does get a música channel that played three Phil Collins videos in a row this morning), so I’m going to watch this mess on a livestream. Watching a 2 and a half hour train wreck on a livestream using hotel WiFi is a lot like having ass sex without lube. There’s a lot of screaming, there’s a lot of starting and stopping and there might be a little blood. I’m into it.
Just when you think Britney Jean Spears had showed us every facet to the living diamond that is Brit Brit (singer, dancer, author, thespian, perfume mogul, Frapp connoisseur) she goes ahead and adds yet another hyphenate to her already multi-multi-hyphenated list of callings in life. Brit Brit posted this video of herself doing “an impression of a Woody Woodpecker” to Instagram, and it’s every bit as beautiful as you’d imagine Brit Brit doing a Woody Woodpecker impression could be.
Brit Brit (who is dressed like a down-on-her-luck Sally Draper for some reason) begins by exhaling all the air and Cheetos dust and stale Marlboro smoke out of her lungs, mentally disappearing into a special place, then releasing an insane blood-curdling throat cackle while giving “HELP ME” eyes to the camera. I don’t know if it was so much as an impression of Woody Woodpecker or a way to summon the undead souls of every woodpecker in Hell back to earth to do Brit Brit’s bidding. Regardless of what she was trying to do, it was absolutely perfect, and Dave Coulier better watch out, because Brit Brit is coming for his job.
And I don’t know if that’s a Jayden James or a Sean Preston sitting behind her, but that kid has the right idea. No matter how terrified you may be, just smile and laugh. Never show you’re afraid; Brit Brit can smell fear.