Meanwhile in an office tower in the 7th circle of Hell, an already-overworked Satan is buzzing for his secretary, Leona Helmsley, to bring him two Extra-Strength Tylenols and a new Kardashian Kontract. “What are we at now – 14? 15? They just keep spawning! I need a drink.”
Congratulations are in order for Pimp Mama Kris, as she has become a GRANDMOTHER (you know she totally hates that word) for the fourth time. UsWeekly says that Kim’s pseudo-hipster sister Kourtney Kardashian gave birth to her third child with real-life 80s high school movie villain Scott Disick yesterday in Los Angeles. Kourtney and Scott welcomed a baby boy, but nothing else is known, because they’re very private people and want to keep it to themselves. Just kidding! They’re probably saving it for whichever magazine sends them the check with the most zeros on the end. “Thank you, Carp-Talk!” shouts Pimp Mama Kris.
Kourtney and Scott already have a 5-year-son named Mason Dash (new baby was actually born on Mason’s birthday) and a 2-year-old daughter named Penelope Scotland, and I have no idea if they’re going to try to incorporate their names into the third baby’s name as well. But in the event they don’t, I’m sure Scott is pushing for something super douchey, like “Money Rolex” or “Cash First Class” or just a bunch of dollar signs.
But there is someone I feel sorry for in all of this, and no, it’s not the baby who has to look into the terrifying rubber face of Auntie Kim. It’s Mason! Sharing a birthday is THE WOOOORST, but sharing it with your own brother? What a bummer. If I were that kid, I’d call up Unky Rob (he ain’t doing anything) and ask him to drive me to wherever you go to get your birth date changed. “While you’re there, wanna pick me up a couple emancipation forms?” shouted North West the second she realized her mom just cropped her out of an Instagram selfie.
Because Khloe Kartrashian is Pimp Mama Kris’ second hardest-whoring fame ho, she made sure that Kim Kartrashian’s greasy James and the Giant Peach ass didn’t inhale all of the attention last night. Right before Kim Kartrashian’s BP oil spill ass suffocated the Internet and left greasy dingles all over our screens, Khloe Kartrashian scratched her LOOK AT ME spot (“Um, isn’t that trick one big giant LOOK AT ME spot?” – you) by Instagramming a meme that is older than the pentagram that PMK tattooed on her ass lips after solidifying her pact with the devil.
After King Koopa Kardashian shat up the joke that has been told a million times before, some of her Instagram followers screamed “RACIST!” and were shocked that a low-down dirty fame fucker whose demon heart feeds on attention would actually do something for attention. Once Khlozilla started getting hit with poop bombs of hate, she deleted her post, because she knew that someone already took a screen shot of it and a thousand blog posts would be written about it. I know, I fell for those whores’ tricks again!
The Slow One’s piece Scott Isadick also farted up the meme on Instagram and added the note “And a jew.” Unlike Khlozilla, Scott hasn’t taken it down.
Never mind the fact that this meme is outdated since the KKK redefined WTF by announcing that they want black, gay, jewish and hispanic members, I’m holding onto my crucifix tight and have my vat of holy water ready, because I know Pimp Mama Kris is going to try to top both of her hos. Khloe re-told an old KKK joke and Kim hit the Internet with her oily ass cheeks, so I fully expect PMK to “leak” a sex tape of her doing her man in a plastic pool full of lube while wearing a white hood.
One of the half-digested ass raisins floating in the 20-minute-long diarrhea puddle that Kanye West shat out during his set at the Wireless Festival in London was about how he’s so sick of the paparazzi constantly “violating” him. Yes, this is the same paparazzi that his gutter tramp of a wife has listed under “favorites” in her iPhone above North West’s head nanny. While getting booed by the crowd who paid money to hear him rap and wasn’t there to listen to the heave-inducing whines coming out of the bruised anus slit he calls a mouth, Kanye brought up Brit Brit Spears’ paparazzi drama and then quoted the definition of “rape” from Kristen Stewart’s dictionary when he said that the paps taking his picture is just like getting sexually violated. I was going to say that Kanye’s Liberace gimp mask was obviously on too tight and squeezing his brain, but he always spits out fuckery like that with or without a Liberace gimp mask on. via The Independent
“I don’t care what you do in life, everybody needs a day off, everybody has the right to say, ‘You know what, I need a minute to breathe’. I want to bring my family to the movies without 30 motherfuckers following me. Everybody here, they like sex right? Sex is great when you and your partner are like, ‘Hey, this is what we both want to do’. But if one of those people don’t want to do that, what is that called? That’s called rape. That is called violation. So if I walk around and say look sir, I’m not feeling so good today, I need some space, can you please not fuck with me today? I need cut-off space, not violation.”
Even though this dried crotch berry gave us the definition of “rape,” I still don’t think he knows what that word really means. Nobody with a half a working brain cell would ever define the Kartrashian’s relationship with the paparazzi as “rape.” It is the complete opposite of “rape.” There’s nothing more opposite than that. If Kanye wants to compare paparazzi attention to “sex,” then I’d say that the Kartrashian’s dealings with the paps are more like a trick putting their address in a Craigslist casual encounters ad where they invite absolutely anybody to a full, blown orgy at their house. Kim getting papped is such a traumatic experience for her that she calls them all the time, texts them her exact location and then posts pictures from the “attack” on Instagram with hashtags like #Hermes.
And that wasn’t the only nugget of delusion that the former rapper turned full-time ranter barfed up:
“I want my daughter to have that opportunity to decide whether she wants to be famous or not. I think to myself, what the fuck am I going to do, how can I change it and how can I give my daughter her childhood?”
Says the level 10 attention whore who yanked at Anna Wintour’s asshole until she put his baby in Vogue, solely named his kid North West because he knew it would get them trending on Twitter and has a pimp-in-law who has already planned his daughter’s first scandal. Nothing says “I want a private family life” like procreating and marrying the fame whore of all fame whores.
And once PMK finishes cackling at Kanye’s cute, little “I want my daughter to decide whether she wants to be famous or not” comment, she’s going to try to smooth things over with the paps by calling each and every one of them to say, “He didn’t mean RAPE rape.”
Here’s Kim shooting her reality shit show in the Hamptons last week while spending time with the people she sees more than her own kid. No, I’m not talking about The Slow One and Lord Douche. I’m talking about the paps.
The hard-to-tweeze infected ingrown taint hair on the waxed no-no of the Kardashian family, Scott Disick, has shared a list of his “Summer Essentials” on the social media app Snupps (I’m positive Snupps is also the name of Walmart’s generic equivalent of Schweppes) and even though he didn’t fall from Pimp Mama Kris’s spoiled whore-droppin’ hole, his list proves he’s just as big of a tacky vapid vulgar shallow asshole as one of her own rotten krotch apples.
According to Us Weekly, Scott’s “must haves” while filming Slow One and The Beast Terrorize The Hamptons this summer are a $400,000 Lamborghini Aventador, a $32,000 Rolex Yacht-Master II watch, $20,000 worth of Louis Vuitton luggage, three pairs of $315 sunglasses, and a $150 pair of personalized swim trunks that say ‘A TINY PENIS RESIDES IN ME’. No, they say ‘LORD DISICK’ (they don’t have to say ‘tiny penis’ because the car does that for him).
Scott’s list of summer essentials is actually pretty modest; he could have asked for 10 Lamborghinis, a talking Shiba Inu, and his own private island on Mars, and PMK would have to give it to him because he’s such an integral part of the show. Without Scott’s manufactured drama, The Slow One would have nothing to do but stare off into space while looking like an even-more comatose version of Kim. Without Scott, Kourtney is totally useless. I mean, technically she’s useless with Scott too, but in terms of what she brings to the show…
And speaking of useless, here’s Kim, Kourtney, Scott, the model one who can’t read for shit, and Stephen Baldwin’s dum dum daughter at a carnival in the Hamptons. Poor Kim – literally every time she turned around, there was another carny informing her that carnivals no longer have Freak Shows, but that if she’s looking for work, they think the Ripley’s Believe It or Not! in Niagara Falls is hiring.
The Jan Brady of the Kuntrashians (may the spirit of Alice smack me in the mouth with a plastic spoon for comparing those whores to the Bradys) somehow found time in between wearing clothes, walking while wearing clothes and drooling in front of the cameras to jump on Scott Isadick’s unwrapped douche stick and make another future cover of InTouch Weekly. The air in L.A. is filled with the scent of Lucifer’s ball sweat from Pimp Mama Kris exhaling out a huge cloud of relief, because while spooning with her maker Satan one night, he let her know in a threatening tone that she’s way behind on her quota for new blood. Leave it to the family baby maker to save PMK once again.
Some source (aka Bruce Jenner who sold that story because mama needs a new pair of diamond studs) told UsWeekly that Kourtney Kardashian’s fetus is a few months old and her latest pregnancy was planned, which is a nice and polite way of saying that every time she and Scott got into bed together for the night, PMK appeared in a tornado of black smoke and screamed, “Stick it in her raw! Our master demands new blood!”
“She is only a few months along. It was planned. [Kourtney] wants to have a handful of kids.”
Kim’s job was to strengthen ties with the Illuminati by marrying Kanye, Khlozilla’s job is to hunt and catch medium-sized woodland creatures for her family’s nightly sacrifice rituals and Kourtney’s job is to pop out PMK’s future ATMs. I mean, somebody’s gotta birth out the Kourtney, Khloe, Kendull and KySomething to North West’s Kim. I mean, North West is going to need somebody to ignore, make fun of and be ashamed of, because Rob isn’t going to live forever.
And here’s picture of Kourtney, Khloe and Scott terrorizing the Hamptons while shooting Khlozilla and The Slow One Destroy Long Island. And either the fully grown warthog that Khlozilla gobbled up for lunch took a wrong turn while making its way to her stomach and ended up in her ass or there’s a Fix-A-Flat shortage on the East Coast.
Here’s certified douche and The Slow One’s piece Lord Scott Isadick struttin’ his ass through a Rite Aid parking lot in Calabasas, CA yesterday and either he stuffed a Pez dispenser in his waistband or that’s the outline of the dick that co-made the next generation of Kardashians that Pimp Mama Kris will pimp out. Yes, that could be a stunt peen molded after Khloe Kardashian’s klit since I’d like to believe that his peen is usually hiding up in his ass crack out of shame for spawning with a Kardashian, but I doubt it. That’s his peen. And yes, yes I would. I would. Don’t make me say it in a regular font size. I can’t. It’s only Monday and I’ve already admitted that I would with a Kartrashian’s ho. It usually takes me until at least Monday afternoon to eat rock bottom. Well, I guess it’s never too early to admit that I don’t love myself and I didn’t come equipped with standards.
I should start by saying that no matter how annoying or awful a kid is behaving, I believe it’s bad juju to go up to a random stranger and tell their kid to Shut Up or Shut The Fuck Up or Shut That Fucking Kid Up (because usually an extra-strength cut-eye will suffice and it won’t get your ass beat). However, I am willing to open the floor for discussion on whether this rule applies to something that shares DNA with Kris Jenner. Please keep your statements to 3 minutes in length, and just a reminder that ‘evil, awful viper woman’ is not a valid argument.
According to The Daily Mail, while returning from a recent vacation in Mexico – THANK GOD THEY MANAGED TO FIND TIME IN THEIR BUSY SCHEDULES TO GO ON VACATION – Kourtney Kardashian had a verbal run in with a fellow passenger on their flight, who told one or both of her kids to pipe down. Kourtney, being the definition of “She is her drama-loving mother’s daughter”, took to Twitter to show that nosy bitch who’s boss by tweeting this:
That’s pretty rich, coming from someone who’s only famous because their sister kept her mouth wide open and filmed Ray J’s dick going in and out (ZING).
We don’t know why that
anonymous hero stranger told her kids to shut up, but I can imagine it’s not for the reason Kourtney thinks it was. The stranger (let’s call her Gladys because it’s ALWAYS a Gladys) probably got the feeling she was in the presence of Satan, and turned around to find a Kardashian sitting behind her. Knowing that Kris is Satan’s messenger on earth who obtains souls for the underworld by sucking them out through the mouth, Gladys heroically commanded the children to close their mouths before their souls were taken and they became a minion of Hell. Gladys was doing your kids a favor, Kourtney! Speaking of souls, a little part of mine dies every time I have to type Kourtney’s name; say what you will about Courtney Stodden, but at least she doesn’t spell her name like a fucking daytime stripper.
Here’s more of Kourtney and Scott Disick, who’s kind of giving me Gordon Bombay vibes (I don’t hate it) arriving at LAX after their trip:
How to get your ass robbed in 1 easy step by Lord Scott Isadick:
1. Flaunt your cash, diamonds and gold on Instagram. The end.
The Lord Douche of Instagram Scott Disick decided to show the poors what you get when you fall out of a rich vagina and marry into a family of mutant fame whores who all traded their souls in for a Rolex covered in Satan’s shiny coagulated jizz balls. Scott Disick has always been understated and humble, so it’s not surprising that he would scoot his Louis Vuitton-monogrammed ass lips all over Instagram. And Goopy Paltrow is cackling at that picture of Scott’s roll of toilet money, because only bougie whores wipe their asses with money. When the real rich shit, their servants spray their b-holes with vintage Cristal Brut and they get their ass tunnels re-lined with Scottish cashmere.
And if there’s one thing that’ll get The Bling Ring back together, it’s this.
Kanye Kardashian (née West) queefed out this American Psycho short shit show to promote Yeezus and I’ve never been attacked with a chainsaw by Patrick Bateman while a starving rat ate cheese out of my culito, but I have a feeling that’s less painful than watching this wretched turd. Everybody (including my dumb ass) who said that Scott Isadick needs to play Patrick Bateman in some form needs to slap themselves with a Huey Lewis CD for putting that idea into the universe, because now that nightmare has come true. Scott’s acting is so damn awful that he makes the “walrus coming out of a long coma” moans that Kim Kartrashian makes in her sex tape seem like they came from an actual human who feels real human emotions. Yes, Scott brutally murders Jonathan Cheban (aka the troll that Khloe Kardashian found hiding in a tree hole while she was out hunting for deer one night), but even that can’t save this mess.
Scott’s voice gets so high at the end that it sounds like Pimp Mama Kris is grabbing his nutsack with her demon claw and slowing pulling it out by the root. He sounds like Mickey Mouse getting castrated. And yes, a castrated Mickey Mouse would make a better Patrick Bateman than Scott Disick.
I don’t know if Kanye West is throw an Illuminati gang sign or he’s showing us what his legs are going to do later that night since Kim isn’t in town.
Kanye West celebrated his sweet 36th birthday at Miss Lily’s in NYC last night with a not-knocked-up Beyonce, Jay-Z, Scott Disick, Jonathan Cheban, Nas, Aziz Ansari and David Blaine. Not on the guest list was Kim Kardashian. Everyone can say that Kim is nearly 9 months pregnant with little Kanyetta Krayola West Kardashian and isn’t allowed to fly, but since when does that heffa care about the well-being of her unborn child? You know bitch would’ve put her pregnant ass on a plane to get a photo-op with Kanye and Beyonce. Kanye probably told her that he’s just going to have a quiet night at home and watch Behind the Candelabra again while eating an Entenmann’s german chocolate cake.
Well, Jonathan Cheban (looking like Brian Peppers’ swag coach), is a fart permanently stuck to Kim’s ass, so I guess he was there representing her. I guess.