Beautifulest

The royal wedding of every century will take place this Wednesday when the most stunningly gorgeous creature to ever wear a crown, La Duquesa de Alba, makes 61-year-old commoner civil servant Alfonso Díez her third husband and the luckiest mere mortal in the world. The Spanish magazine Interviú is celebrating this historical event by gifting the world with glorious pictures of the Klingon dandelion filling the sun with more sunshine by shooting rays of aristocratic exquisiteness out of her nipple holes on a beach in Ibiza back in the 1980s when she was just 56 years old. This was long before the Duchess of Alba fell into a vat of liquid diamonds and Death Eater blood, transforming her into an albino Jocelyn Wildenstein with an afro made of Andy Rooney's shed eyebrows hairs.

Curtsy, gently bow your head and lift up your eyeballs as you let the Duchess of Alba knight you with her (NSFW) noble nipples. Desnuda y radiante!

via Vanitatis (Thanks Erica!)

There was this seasoned chola who worked in my mom's office and she once took me aside during her lunch break to show me Polaroids she kept in her glove compartment of her cruisin' days before her tattoos looked like pieces from a wrinkled coloring book and before she dyed her hair a lovely shade of Montebello blond (as she puts it). What she looked like in those pictures looks almost exactly like 14-year-old Lourdes at a Material Girl event with Kelly Osbourne in NYC yesterday. The teenage spawn of Madge looks like the spitting image of the seasoned chola office assistant in her glory days!

Well, Lourdes would completely look like the spitting image of a 70s chola if you traded her plain hair for feathered hair wings and traded her yellow dress for a baggy plaid shirt and high-waisted polyester pants. But other than that, it's uncanny!

What I'm trying to say is that if Roberto Benigni (whatever happened to Roberto Benigni anyway) was telling the truth when he said that life is beautiful, then Lourdes will grow up to be a gorgeous Radiology office assistant who smells like a mixture of L.A. Looks gel and Avon perfume, and drives a brown Lincoln with a warped TimeLife oldies cassette stuck in its tape deck. If only!

On the left is a Sarah Palin-like puta who can see married dick from her vag, in the middle is an old ass fool who is no longer welcome in the galaxy and on the right is the ethereal moon goddess who hasn't been the same ever since the startheart in her chest was turned to dust by her true love.

The surface of the moon covered itself with a thin layer of tears when 81-year-old Buzz Aldrin ended his 23 year marriage to the celestial blossom he plucked from the orb of the night those many years ago. Lois Aldrin has been lost ever since and has been shuffling her precious feet against the dirt of the earth looking for a new purpose. Lois thought maybe a fire would warm her spirit, so she used her forehead to focus the sun's rays on a pile of twigs and it started a fire, but she was still cold on the inside.

Meanwhile, Lois' true love and the astronaut who brought her to earth was off landing his geezer dick on a 51-year-old marketing executive named Homewrecking Sucia Skank (government name: Michelle Sucillon). Lois gently cooed out (sounds like a lunar swan tip toeing along the craters) to Page Six about how she wants Buzz back, but Michelle is a "predator" and won't let her man go. Let's all hum out the melody to Moon River as we read Lois' sad soliloquy.

“He’s not [officially] divorced yet. It is kind of scandalous. We’ve had a great life, and I don’t blame Buzz, I blame the girl. She’s a predator, that’s my opinion.

He filed for divorce in June. The book signing where they met was in 2009, and I was there. She was kind of aggressive. But he didn’t start seeing her then. He’s been seeing her for about a year. There are women out here in Los Angeles that go after men, they go after celebrities. Women should leave married men alone.

He’s 81 and having kind of a midlife crisis in old age ... I still think Buzz is the most wonderful man in the world, and I still love him. I would hope we get back together ... but I can’t tell him what to do. I think most wives warn their husbands of predatory women ... I am a very moral person.”

That Sucia-llon tramp and gross Buzz Aldrin deserve each other and may they spend their eternity in a purgatory where a full moon never rises. Lois is too good for all of this. Buzz has chosen to go with the dark side, so Lois should return to her hometown of the moon where she is worshiped for the beautiful Asian cat crater head she truly is.

The days of freezer burned fupas are quickly coming upon those of us who live in the Northeast, so now is the perfect time to let your gut pores breathe in air before they have to go into hibernation. Uma Thurman knows this and so she wore the official Honey Badger weekday uniform as she strolled out with her children in NYC on Wednesday.

Somebody hand me a double-sided anything and dip it in some kitchen grease, because both UsWeekly and the Daily Mail need to get fucked for calling this perfect ensemble "bizarre" and "slobby." Those jealous shade queens must be using an opposite dictionary, because they really meant to say this whole entire look is "practical" and "SO NOW."

The hat tells me that Uma likes a touch of retro, because she's obviously wearing the cap my mom's best friend bought at Michael's, hoping she'd find the time to glamourize it with puffy glitter paint and dot lettering (she never did). The knotted shirts tell me that Uma doesn't believe in shirt favoritism and so she not only cut off the circulation of her top shirt, but she did it to her bottom shirt too. And finally, the Marlboros tucked into her bra strap loudly tells me that she's just a practical bitch and a people person who warmly embraces crackhead hobos asking her for a cigarette every other block. Does Playtex sell the bra straps alone, because I've been looking for a practical place to keep my Trident.

Shut down every stupid Best Dressed of the Year list, because nothing will ever top this.

This is the moment in your life when you realize that New Balance sneakers sort of resemble the hooves of a unicorn that have only touched the rainbow clouds on a Lisa Frank folder. You should write that into your memory journal in glitter pen.

The last time the traffic of breaths running from your mouth to your lungs stopped was when Richard Simmons frolicked on a trail of bedazzled starfruits that fall out of his front b-hole (don't you have one too?) while spreading his genius in Beverly Hills. You immediately printed that picture out on strawberry-scented paper and stuck it to to your inspiration board since Richard is what we should all aspire to be. Well, you've got another to add to the board.

Richard, who is what you get when you feed Billy Crystal sugar-free Jolly Ranchers juice after midnight, stepped out again in L.A. yesterday wearing another Toddlers & Tiaras original and the kind of chunky pearl necklace Fred Flinstone gave to Wilma Flinstone. Yabba Dabba Do is right!

Richard looks like the Tooth Fairy's way more fabulous and glittier second cousin the No-No Fairy who slips a Sweatin' to the Oldies DVD under your pillow every time your no-no puckers. You're going to need a bigger pillow, because I'm sure the sight of these pictures is making you pucker like Renee Zellweger giving a beej to Mr. Lemonhead. I feel like I've been Care Bear Stared!

Say what you want about Marilyn Manson (examples: he's turning into an old Lydia from Beetlejuice, a chick has to dip her coochie in make-up remover whenever he eats her out, he's definitely getting too old for this shit, etc...), but he always manages to pluck the most graceful flowers out of the WTF garden and his latest piece is no exception. Marilyn left Chateau Marmont last night with a gorgeous specimen who wore an elegant peek-a-puss dress exclusively from Bristol Palin's prom night collection, a pair of Lee Presson gloves, a puffy pussy patch (for shy sluts who believe you should leave labia to the imagination) and a face that could beat Kim Kardashian's face in a natural beauty competition. I like to call this perfect look: So THIS is what happened to Baby Jane.

Marilyn's ex pieces all say that living with him is about as pleasant as a wet fart to the face, but I have a feeling this one's going to last. Mostly because she's wearing a mask and probably can't see his face too good.

Nicole Kidman usually looks like an ice statue that's been wrapped in toilet porcelain, shellacked with a thick layer of Botox and dressed in clothes from a French toddler circa 1969, but it was a different story yesterday when she showed up to the New Orleans set of her new movie The Paperboy looking like this. The costume designer and hair hos working on that movie should just collect their awards now for transforming a human ice cube that fell out of a side freezer's vagina many years ago into a glamorous graveyard shift diner waitress who smells like White Rain hairspray, menthol butts, cotton candy Lip Smackers and a drunk trucker's moustache sweat. That is a bitch who always keeps several fake state IDs in her purse and knows which rest stop sinks have hot water for a more pleasurable whore bath experience.

It's like if Crystal Barbie (Sidenote: Mom, why didn't you ever get me a Crystal Barbie?!!) fell on hard times.

When Nicole is done with this movie, she hold on to those scuffed white Payless pumps and maintain that Courtney Stodden hair, because this is the look she was meant to have.

Here's more pictures from yesterday including a couple of a strung out, constipated John Cusack who I'm guessing is playing a walking version of Pee-wee Herman's mug shot.

If you took the ovary of a gilded unicorn, fertilized it with the sperm of a rhinestone peacock, incubated it for 5 seconds on a crystal chandelier's light bulb and then stuck it under a microscope that doubles as a kaleidoscope, this is what would bless your eyeballs. It's like a beauty baptism. This is the most beautiful creature in Germany the world Harald Glööckler leaving Brigitte Nielsen in the kind of awe that makes you coo out a seizure-inducing orgasm in slow motion.

Natural beauty intertwined with natural beauty at the opening of Harald's showroom of glamour in Berlin yesterday evening. True story: The record for the longest sunset ever was set yesterday, because the sun was so mesmerized by these two beauties that it refused to go away.

This is like a production of Phantom of the Opera performed by vampires who cut the dried blood they snort up with diamond dust. Harald is totally what the Phantom would look like if he got a makeover at the MAC counter.

Everything about this is perfect. Harald and Gitte even look stunningly gorgeous when they pose with the bone of the farm animal they scarified to stay this beautiful. And we pray.....

Since we're on the subject of discussing America's ambassadors of fashion, here's the elusive Garbage Pail goddess Angelyne looking like the Bride of Chucky after crawling out of a bucket full of Jerry Garcia's ashes, Poochie pubes, liquid LSD and Ben & Jerry's old tie die water while educating simple ass bitches on the importance of a perfect eyebrow situation in West Hollywood yesterday.

When it's 10am at the rave and somebody yells "WARNING" before knocking the roll out of your head by turning the lights on, Angelyne is definitely what you want to shock your eyeballs with after that happens. May we all look like the test tube baby of Jem! and Gobo from Fraggle Rock when we're (insert whatever age Angelyne is saying she is today). Glow stick juice is definitely what the fountain of youth is filled with.

Posing on the border where my nightmares meet my wet dreams, Tilda Swinton wipes the skid mark left by Kim Kardashian's skank shit off of W Magazine in a series of gorgeous pictures that make me want to tap my b-hole with a Lego Man wrapped in a Tyvek condom.

If Powder joined a Culture Club tribute band in Oz, that cover is what it would look like. The rest of the pictures give me "albino lab rat meets Botoxed Gollum meets a monk from the Temple of Bowie" vibes. There's really nothing else more to say. The Foursquare Mayoress of Saturn strikes again! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go hide in a closet with my Lego Man.