Pictured: One of Dlisted’s new interns making a beef jerky and MD 20/20 run for the office this morning.
You already know that Dlisted is a first-class corporation (read: the opposite of that) that operates out of a first-class office building (read: the same room where I sleep and watch marathons of HGTV’s first ever soft-core gay porn show Cousins Undercover while eating Bisquick powder out of the box with a spoon) and now it’s even more professional thanks to my two new interns. I got a Cocosbuttload of amazing responses to my post, so I brought on two interns instead of just one.
So welcome Megan (better known to commenters as ISprainedMyUvula) and Allison. Starting today, Megan and Allison will drop in a post or three here and there in between doing behind-the-scenes important company stuff like organizing our offices’ move to Dildo Island. Don’t worry, I’ve already hazed them both by making them stare into the terrifying and hypnotizing eyes of Phoebe Price while cropping a dozen pictures of her and by searching Google for any new topless pictures of Carrot Top.
And I’ll let you decide which one of them looks exactly like Angelyne. (SPOILER ALERT: Neither of them. They wish!)
Starting this weekend and continuing for the next few weekends, I’m going to unplug the pile of dead and scorched brain cells in my head from Dlisted and hand the keys to the house over to Dlisted’s resident guest bloggers Sweetas and J. Harvey. I’ll still be spreading the foolery during the week and I may drop in on the weekends to make sure those Sweetas and J. Harvey haven’t stained the furniture (“But Michael, the furniture is already covered in jizz, cigarette burns, bottom shelf whiskey and bitter tears.” – you).
Sweetas and J. Harvey will be your weekend hosts starting tomorrow (but I’ll probably drop something in here on Sunday since The House of Versace aka the only television event in history that matters is on Saturday) and I’ll be back full-time on Monday. And for now, I leave your ass with pictures of 62-year-old Elvira at Knott’s Scary Farm in CA the other night. Elvira looks young enough to be Courtney Stodden’s broken condom baby. But then again, don’t we all?
After being closed for CENTURIES (read: about a week), the doors to the comment section are finally opening up again tomorrow. It feels like I’ve been yelling at an empty big white box for the past week, which I kind of have. There’s going to be one big change, though. (This is the part where I down three shots of rubbing alcohol with a splash of gin.) The comments are moving to Disqus and mostly because it has the word DIQ in it.
When I first brought up the idea of moving to Disqus last week, some readers emailed me and said “YAAAAASSS!” to that shit and some readers emailed me and said “NOOOOOOO!” to that shit. I’ve been playing with Disqus on both ends (the commenter side and the moderator side, and yes, that’s the first time in years I’ve played with anything on both ends) for a few weeks, because a lot of people told me I should consider moving to it. After playing with it on both ends (yes, I wanted a reason to type that a second time), I felt it was the best thing for the site. So we’re going to try it and see how it goes. The comments from the old site will be lubed up and shoved into Disqus, but logins won’t. I figured that some of you might want to register with a different email address or post anonymously, so the logins won’t be moved over. With Disqus, you can either register for a Disqus account, post as a guest or if you really want your friends and loved ones to know your feelings about the Kartrashians, you can use your Facebook, Twitter or Google+ account.
As for other site stuff, we’re still fixing a few glitches and tweaking here and there (“Me too!” – Amanda Bynes). Remind to never move again. Thanks for the emails and thanks to the boxed wine at Target and my weed dispensary for being there for a bitch.
And you probably didn’t read any of that since you were getting lost in James Haven’s puckering anus lips. Here’s James Haven keeping the skull cap alive while puckering next to Jon Voight and a lady guest at last night’s NYC premiere of World War Z.
That’s almost the same dance I did when Dlisted started loading again. …Well, except for this graceful electro swan’s got sweet, diabetes-inducing moves and my moves are more like wet salt. This certified ass shaker needs to teach Miley Cyrus how to really fart silver glitter while shaking that ass. When he fell back, I fell back. It’s like The Matrix on E. Anyyouknowyouregoingtopinchyournipstothislater….
The site is on its way to being normal (well, as normal as Dlisted can be) again (although, was it ever normal?). Thanks for dealing with the bare bones SANS FARDS website yesterday and Dlisted feels better now that it’s wearing its Wet ‘n Wild blue eyeshadow again. There’s still some glitches to slap down and things to tweak. The comment section is closed and will open up again early next week. I know, it feels weird not being able to go into the comments to read some of the disgusting shit you sucio whores say. One time I went in there and a commenter defended Kate Gosselin hard. Sick and twisted thoughts!
And wait, did that dude just do The Twist while Riverdancing? All hail the new Lord of ALL Dances.
We’re alive! Well, as alive as a ho who’s only eaten Texas Toast all day can be. Please accept these pictures of Henry Cavill at last night’s NYC premiere of Man of Steel as a “sorry for all the damn changes” gift. I tried to find pictures from last night of Henry without all his clothes on, but for some reason he kept all his clothes on (SELFISH!) and the wind was really dumb for not blowing all his clothes off. You’ll have to use your imagination while you fap.
Thanks to Industry44, all my posts and the comments made it onto the new Dlisted. We’ve painted over the barf splatters on the wall and tried to scrub out all the cum stains in the carpet. Drunk whores are still passed out on the front stoop, but they’re never going to leave. There are a few changes. A featured post bar (which every other site has had since 2007, welcome us to 2007!) was added to the top, the gallery’s been changed up and the comment button has been moved from the bottom to the top of the post. And about the comment section…
The comment section is still a work in progress. I was going to move us all to Disqus, but I know some people have SERIOUS feelings about Disqus, so I’m going to wait. So for now, we’ll stay here and if this comment section works I’ll add more features. If it doesn’t, to Disqus we go! You can use the same username and password to login.
Because everything is new, the site will probably burp, fart and queef for the next couple of weeks. We’re still tweaking things as we go along too. And if you’re going to scream, “I HATE IT, LET’S GO BACK TO THE OLD SHIT,” make sure I’m drunk and stoned before you do it.
It’s been years since Dlisted got a full makeover and bitch has been running up and down the ho stroll with a chipped tooth, a missing weave track, bruised knees, a broken heel, a curling iron burn on its cheek and overgrown eyebrows. It’s finally gotten a redesign and will debut its new look later tomorrow. It won’t be as nearly as gorgeous and glamorous as Richard Simmons (seen at L.A. Gay Pride over the weekend), but nobody and nothing is.
Dlisted is also switching platforms, so it’s going to take some time to shove all my posts (and all of the comments, hopefully) from my old platform into my new platform. To make all of this happen, the site will be down for most of the day tomorrow and will be back later in the day with a new look. It’ll still have a chipped tooth and bruised knees, but at least it’s brows will be plucked.
No, one of them is not Mimi. Although…. if you down an entire bottle of cotton candy vodka and chase it with a bottle of bubbles before beating yourself in the head with a plastic unicorn horn, J. Harvey does sort of look like Mimi in the right light.
Mimi is spreading the holiday cheese in Aspen by posing like this and that means it’s Christmas times again. In my family, we don’t give each other gifts, because we’re all really lazy and shopping takes effort. So instead of doing that, we go on trips together during the holidays and give each other the priceless gift of verbally judging each other’s life choices while sitting in the middle of a hotel restaurant. This year, we’re going to my mom’s timeshare in Hawaii and I know it’s going to be weird, because timeshare people are the weirdest.
So since I’ll be busy hopping to other timeshares to sit through a 6 hour-long presentation for a free breakfast (a $12 value!), Dlisted’s resident guest bloggers Sweetas, J. Harvey and Lahoma will be helping me out. Starting on Sunday, Lahoma will take over Hot Slut of the Day and Sweetas, J. Harvey and I will post throughout the day. There won’t be any Caption This contests during that time. I’ll be back full-time on January 3rd.
And I promise that while I’m in Hawaii, I’ll keep the jokes about getting lei’d to a minimum. Probably not.
Today is the day I say goodbye to the bodega bitch who always calls me “ma’m” (Not even “miss!” That burns.) and to the family of crackheads who always hang at my old subway stop and once called me a “cheap fag” for giving them a dollar. I will miss them all! So I’m moving out of Brooklyn and making my way back to the land of Angelyne, smog and jorts with UGGs today. I have to stop in Michigan first, because it’s always been one of my life goals to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. No, I’m going for family shit… and to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. I’ll be in Michigan until Sunday, so now all you Angelen-hos know in advance that a stage 1 trash alert will be issued when my stank ass lands.
Because I’ll be busy getting drunk on Hopslam in Michigan and trying to get a car in L.A. (please tell me they still sell Pintos), one of my partners in spreading fuckery, Sweetas, is going to guest blog and help me out until Monday. I’ll be back full-time on Tuesday after I wake up from my Hopslam and In-N-Out coma.
And moving would be so much better if I could just throw all my stuff on Liev Schreiber’s front box and then jump on that child seat behind him. Take me to the Double Double, Liev!
You’re probably reading these words while pulling your panties up and wiping your musky down low parts with the bottom of your shirt. Because as soon as the head picture for this post came up, you immediately rubbed your genitals on your computer monitor until you almost got electrocuted. The word “fuck” written with a Sharpie on Marilyn Manson’s mouth compelled you to do so. You actually shouldn’t be reading this right now, because you should be down at the free clinic (FYI: They open at 10am on the weekends) getting treated for ink poisoning and a new kind of gonorrhea that is only transmitted through pixels.
Marilyn Manson, who looks like he just ate the dreams of a thousand obese children, shuffled through LAX yesterday with his piece Lindsay Usich and he threatened all the paps with a good time by scribbling the words “fuck you” on his mound of flour-dusted pie dough face. Lindsay Lohan is so going to sue his powdery ass for copyright infringement. In case you’re wondering, the words “fuck you” written in marker on a face translates into “look at me looook at me oh god look at me fuck me with your attention please just loooook at me” in real talk.
And on that note, I’m taking another quick trip this summer and might not be around as much for the next few days. While I’m off suckling on a 12 oz. Corona on top of a hotel room bedspread as I suction my brain to non-stop Olympic coverage, my partners in blog foolery, J. Harvey and Sweetas (THE RETURN OF SWEETAS!!!) will be here planting seeds of fuckery. I’ll be back full-time on Tuesday if I don’t get arrested at JFK’s TSA checkpoint for committing acts of buffoonery by getting make-up ideas from Marilyn Manson and scribbling the words “fuck you” on my face (it’s tempting). They have WiFi at Gitmo, right?
And now thanks to these pictures of panty cream-inducer Mickey Rourke drunk sashaying out of a club in London the other night, you will be having the pastrami hash with a side of burnt canned tomatoes for brunch. You can always count on Mickey to show you that beauty is a half-melted, inside/out Michael Myers mask. On that note, my ass is going away this weekend (and no, I’m not going to weekend jail for my crimes against grammar…. that’s next week) and while I’m away, drunk bitch extraordinary J. Harvey will be filling in the fuckery for me today and tomorrow.
I’m still doing Birthday and Hot Sluts and I might post a tiny bit here and there. I shifted the word “might” to the right by italicizing that shit, because it’ll be hard trying to blog about dumb bitches while guzzling on a can of Corona (yes, I said “CAN“) in the lukewarm and possibly piss-infused jacuzzi of a moderately priced hotel. I’ll be back full-time on Monday. For now, I leave you with these images from the beauty gods of Mickey Rourke. Frolic through his tortured, battle line hairline.