Knocked Up

Prepare yourselves for a spawn of John Mayer, because with the way things are going his David Duke jizz is going to knock up a ho in no time. It's a terrifying trend! Nick Lachey announced on Live with Kelly (via People) this morning that just like Tony Romo, he's an ex-piece of Jessica Simpson who is going to be somebody's father soon. Nick said that he and his wife Vanessa Minnillo are expecting a baby friend this summer or fall.

"She was in New York and I was in the Bahamas. She went to the store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. We're having a baby! This is the one thing that more than any other I've looked forward to, and it's overwhelming.

If it's a girl, I think it might be Sophia. If it's a boy, I'm not sure."

Somewhere in California, Papa Joe is trying to lure Jessica's unborn baby out with a deep fried Pop Tart and butter sandwich, because they need to beat Vanessa Minillowhatever and her unborn baby to the cover of People Magazine. But Jessica has been knocked up for so long that Vanessa's going to pop out her second and third kid while a fully developed adult leg hangs out of Jessica's cooch.

But seriously, this is wonderful news, because Nick Lachey's glorious leche mounds should not go to waste. Those man titties were made for breastfeedin'.

TMZ posted a picture today of Drew Barrymore and her fiancé Will Kopelman leaving a doctor's office in Beverly Hills last week and she's got a fresh out of the machine ultrasound scan in her hand. TMZ thinks that because Drew is an engaged woman she's no longer reaching for the rubber baby batter-blockers in the drawer of her nightstand, which means that her uterus has a NO VACANCY sign hanging over it. Makes sense to me. It also works for me, because I think Drew would be a good mom. I mean, a lot of moms I know talk to their babies in that weird lispy baby voice and Drew naturally talks in a weird lispy baby voice, so she's already one step ahead.

But let's examine that picture since we've got nothing else to do. Lift up your Detective La Toya-approved, I meant Detective Nancy Grace-approved magnifying glass and look at the picture at TMZ for a quick second. Here's a few things I noticed:

1. The lolly. Is it one of those Preggy Pops (I can't with that name) or do they usually give you lollipops after a sonogram? A doctor hasn't given me a lolly since I was a kid. No, that's not true. I got a lollipop the last time I had an HIV test, which sort of freaked me out. But everything freaks me out when I get an HIV test. The lab person could scratch her eyebrow while taking my blood and I'll automatically think: "OHMYGAWD. I have it. She can see it in my blood!" They probably gave me a lollipop, because I told them how many sexual partners I've had and they figured a lolly would distract my mouth from sucking on other things.

2. The Styrofoam cup. The Styrofoam cup really doesn't mean anything, but it does remind me of the cups from El Pollo Loco, which reminds me of this delicious drink they had (or still have) called Orange Bang. Orange Bang was like the saliva of a golden unicorn. I was addicted to getting Orange Banged. You could refill your cup with Orange Bang at the soda fountain yourself, so I went crazy. My mouth practically lived on the Orange Bang spigot. Then one day, one of the workers said to me, "No more Orange Bang for you!" To this day, that's still the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me.

3. The sonogram scan. That doesn't look like a fetus to me. That looks like a fish.

So what we've learned is that Drew likes red lollipops and is knocked up with a shark fetus. Oh, and we also learned that I really need to get Orange Banged again. Case closed.

There are two reasons for why carrying a greedy, selfish fetus-shaped bundle of slobber for 9 months is a good thing. The first reason is that you can eat a deep fried chocolate burrito with cake batter sauce out in the open without judgmental hos dropping the gavel on you with their eyes. The second reason is that you get special treatment almost everywhere you go. People will give you their seat on the subway, some parking lots have special spaces for knocked up hos and even paraplegics will roll off of their wheelchairs so the pregnant lady can sit. Jessica Simpson was thinking she'd get this kind of special treatment when she waddled up to a popular Mexican restaurant in Santa Barbara, CA recently.

Star Magazine (via Radar) says there's always a long ass line to get into La Super-Rica Taqueria and Jessica thought she didn't have to wait because: a) She's Heffica Simpson; and b) People would feel guilty listening to her ankle bones crack while she stood in line behind them. Jessica tried to cut in front of the line, but nobody was having it. The source put it like this:

"Apparently Jessica was too hungry to wait on the line like everyone else, so she tried to walk straight to the front in the hope that someone would take pity on her pregnant self. Unfortunately for Jess, the line went crazy and other hungry people started yelling at her. It was so embarrassing. Eventually, Jess was escorted to the back of the line. But she didn't want to wait. After all that, she just went to grab some Taco Bell around the corner."

Those people made the smartest decision of their lives! Think about it with your nose. Without a baby in her belly, Jessica's farts melt contact lenses and will take two of your senses to dark, dark places. The taste of Jessica's butt burps will never leave your tongue until you rinse with bleach and your nostrils will shrivel down to the size of an ant's peen slit. Your nostrils won't have the will to go on anymore. Add a baby and Mexican food, and you've got the ingredients for the most destructive weapon on this planet. If North Korea ever gets too bold, we just have to roll Jessica to their borders, turn her around and then hand her a tub of Pintos 'N Cheese. The next thing you'd see is millions of North Koreans waving white flags while singing Kumbaya.

The waiting diners at La Super-Rica Taqueria know what I'm talking about. They were not about to let Jessica turn their delicious plate of chilaquiles into a plate of shitaquiles. Nope.

(Picture via Pacific Coast News)

When Sienna Miller announced that she is turning the motor off on her bull dozer vagina and is temporarily retiring from her position as everyone's favorite home wrecking hero to get married and have a baby, I didn't want to believe it. It's like if somebody told me that Pete Doherty was starting to bathe regularly with actual soap or that Prince Hot Ginge was seen buying a box of Feria for Men (in shade: black leather) for himself. THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.

There are so many more lives that need ruining and so many more houses that need to be torn in half by Sienna's wrecking ball clit. Sienna Miller would never change teams and move on over to the dark side by becoming one of them (read: married with children), or so I thought. But she has. Anakin Homewrecker has become Darth Mommy and these pictures of her at a W Magazine party in NYC prove this. I don't think Sienna's got a gut full of wedding rings she fucked off of married man after married man. I'm pretty sure there's a baby in there.

It's as if I've seen a picture of Tommy Girl in flats or a fully covered LeAnn Rimes. This is my unicorn sighting.

It's going to be 60 degrees in NYC today, RiRi has publicly turned her back on the Illuminati, Rutgers is offering a Beyonce course and now there's a chance that the Pfizer recall has officially become a disaster to humanity because SNOOKI MIGHT BE SPAWNING! As the 20th century's greatest philosophers Bill & Ted once said: "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K!"

The respectable journal of truthiness Star Magazine tells us that in a few months a living creature will call Snooki its mommy. You can go ahead and cancel Groundhog Day tomorrow, because that Punxsutawney Phil bitch ain't coming out since he's digging his way to hell as I type this shit. Star's source says that Snooki and her midget hulk of a boyfriend Jionni smushed a baby into her womb and she's telling everybody about it.

“She is pregnant and has only told her closest friends and some family. She’s been telling people that she has a big announcement coming."

This is good news for the makers of the first ever tanning bed crib. This also good news for Planet Earth who are assembling their bravest camera crew yet to capture the world's first known birth of a Hulk/Ewok hybrid. Everybody else is fucked, because little Pickole Vodkotta LaValle will devour our world's supply of pickles and taint our jacuzzis.

Oh well, we should all still meet in front of the cave Snooki will give birth in, because there's no way she's going to let a little thing called "pregnancy" get in the way of her drinking gallons of the sweet nectar every night. That placenta is going to be 100+ proof! PLACENTA SHOTS FOR EVERYONE!

UPDATE: The rapture has been rescheduled, because Snooki denies that she's carrying the anti-christ.

If Jennifer Aniston had a baby for every time the tabloids said she was having a baby, she'd have more babies than Cabbage Patch Groom Dolls (read: a lot of fucking babies) and a child army to rival all child armies. If the tabloids aren't saying she's got a crying fetus in her womb, they're saying that she's crying in the fetal position inside of Beanie Baby Mountain (aka her safe place), because she got dumped again. But for the past few weeks, Star Magazine, The Enquirer and some others have been saying that Jennifer's dog is breathing a sigh of relief, because now that she's knocked up it no longer has to wear a bonnet while she tucks it into its crib at night. The Daily Mail is now co-signing all of that and their source is telling them that Jennifer is taking a break from barfing out romantic comedy after romantic comedy to be a mother:

"She wants to focus on herself and hopefully becoming a mother. She is thinking of launching her own fashion line which would allow her to spend more time at home."

But the fun haters at Gossip Cop asked Jen's publicist about this and he said her uterus still has a vacancy sign on it and she's not taking a break anytime soon.

Who to believe? On one hand, the tabloids have been nailing me in the head with their "The Last Sign of The Apocalypse: Jennifer Aniston is Having Twins" headlines so hard that I'm starting to believe it. But on the other hand, if Jennifer Aniston was pregnant, she'd put on a bikini bottom made from her latest sonogram scan, stick two positive pregnancy tests over her nipples and then run in front of her arch rival Maddox during one of his staged photo-ops.

We really shouldn't believe that Aniston is knocked up until we see Maddox with a defeated look on his face and a mourning outfit on his body. FYI: In the Brangelina world, a mourning outfit is anything that's not black.

The new chosen one has stepped onto the planet and knocked the halos right off of Brangelina's twin messiahs, and yet Jessica Simpson's baby is still baking in a puddle of trans fat in her womb. Beyonce barely had a dollop of anything on her stomach at her 9th month and it really looked like she was growing her baby in her damn wig, and then you've got Jessica who is giving us a whole of DAMN at 7 months. My eyes swole up just by looking at her. I bet Jessica doesn't even walk. Bitch stands really still and lets out a high-powered pregnancy fart that pushes her a few feet. Then she takes a deep breath, stands really still and lets out another high-powered pregnancy fart that pushes her another few feet. Bitch's got a motor in her ass.

Jessica came out big on Friday night for NBC's TCA Party where she was there to whore out her new fashion reality show with Nicole Richie. Jessica told reporters that you won't find her waddling around A Pea in a Pod, because she stays away from maternity clothes, "I buy bigger sizes, which is very important, but I haven't really gone to maternity clothes because I don't really love maternity stuff."

Who needs maternity clothes, anyway? It's easier just to lay out a black tarp, spray Jessica down with fried chicken grease and then roll her over that tarp with the help of a thousand villagers and the tree trunk of a mighty oak. Then they wrap her up, lift her up with a crane, throw a few pounds of sequins at her BOOM! Instant knocked up glamour! But seriously, Jessica really does look happy, which is more than I can say for the owners of every Korean all-you-can eat barbecue in the L.A. area who had to close up for 9 months after hearing that Jessica swallowing tin trays for two now.

Jessica Simpson is at least into her 5th month of being knocked up (I think) and at this point you'd think that she'd only be able to get around on a manatee gurney carried by highly trained coastal conservationists. But nope! Chestica only needed help from her gold digging fiancé while walking the carpet at last night's Shoe Fetish Awards (aka The Footwear News Achievement Awards) in NYC. I can't believe I am about to type the following sentence in the year 2011 without Papa Joe holding his loaded dick to my head: Chestica looks good. Maybe I only think that because her pregnancy farts are so damn potent that they've turned into scented pixels and have seeped through my monitor causing me to hallucinate. Let's go with that.

My only complaint is that Jessica's shoes don't match her dress. Oh, well. Chestica can't even see her shoes due to the triple mounds o'plenty blocking her view, so I'll let that shit slide this time. Seriously, though, I think Jessica's carrying Beyonce's baby in her tits.

Because everybody but Papa Joe knows that a Jessica Simpson pregnancy announcement is worth about as much as a left-handed handjob from Captain Hook, not one tabloid magazine farted up the $500,000 he wanted for an exclusive so bitch had to give that shit away for free. In news that's about as surprising as Kim Kardashian's staged marriage falling into a trapdoor opened by Pimp Mama Kris, Jessica posted the above picture on her website and then announced the news everybody has known for weeks.

"It's True! I am going to be a mummy!"

Jessica's poor child isn't even out of the womb yet and she's already embarrassing it. First, bitch tries to sell the news that it's moved into her uterus and comes up with nothing. Then she delivers the BIG DUH for free on the same day Kim Kardashian's divorce shit is being spread all over the media. And finally, she announces it while looking like a flock of birds made several nests in her weave after she got tangled up in my old nursery curtains.

That fetus is holding its face in shame and won't let go until it turns 18. How is Papa Joe going to sell the baby pictures if Jessica's baby refuses to remove its hand from its face? Papa Joe's plans foiled again. I think I love Jessica's baby already.

Jessica Simpson took the growing SHHH! baby in her uterus for a walk in NYC today and I guess we're going to keep doing this until she's sitting in front of TLC's cameras saying that she had no idea babies grow inside human bodies, because she learned in her favorite baby picture book by Ann Geddes that newborns grow in terracotta pots and you buy them at a flower nursery. But while Jessica lets her papoose pouch speak for itself, her ex-boyfriend Tony Romo did shit the old fashioned way by actually announcing his wife's pregnancy with words. UsWeekly says that at an anti-drug rally at some high school in Texas today, Tony told the kids that his peen shot the mighty sperm that busted a fetus in the gut of Chace Crawford's sister. Yes, Tony put it just like that.

"I actually have one on the way. My wife is pregnant."

And with that, you better stock up on bottled water and board up all your windows like it's the sequel to Hurricane Irene. Because any minute now a white blond lightning bolt of visible farts and tragic desperation will shoot through the streets screeching, "AH'S WAS IN THE FAMILY WAY FIRST! AH'S WAS IN THE FAMILY WAY FIRST!"