Today, true love sounds like a hip bone cracking when 84-year-old Hugh Hefner got on one knee with the help of two nurses, an orderly and an EMT to propose marriage to his 24-year-old girlfriend Crystal Harris on Christmas Eve. Hugh (aka an assistant who transcribed the message at his bedside while his new soon-to-be fetus bride dabbed a little congratulatory Desitin on his nalgas) announced on his Twitter last night that he's engaged to Crystal. This means Crystal will be his third wife. Yup, who ever said gold digging was an easy job never had to wade chin-deep in pepaw slobber and Viagra to get 0.0000085% of the Playboy empire thanks to a little thing called a prenup. Pampers is totally going to provide the wedding attire from the bride AND groom.
This is what Hugh announced last night:
Yes, the ring I gave Crystal is an engagement ring. I didn't mean to make a mystery out of it. A very merry Christmas to all.
Yes, this is some pedophilia meets necrophilia shit, but whatever makes them happy. If a girl who was entering the world at about the same time he was entering the "Pepaws Don't Give A Fuck" stage of his life makes Hugh happier than the sound of a Werther's Original bag opening, then good for him. And Crystal's gold digging game is so serious that she probably won't break character when Hugh accidentally burps up creamed banana barf into her mouth during a kiss. You just have to slow clap for that kind of determination!
And somewhere outside of the Playboy Mansion, Holly Madison is scaling the wall with a machete in her mouth and VENGEANCE in her eyes.
What more could Matthew Rutler want? This time last year, Matthew was probably riding shot gun in a Toyota Tercel to a house party to sip on Bud from a can, and look at his ass now! BITCH, YOU'VE MADE IT! Here's Matthew sucking in the luxury while riding in a fancy horse-drawn carriage near a fancy resort in fancy Courchevel, France with a fancy throw, a fancy glass of wine and a benefactor who doesn't call the police when he fishes 2 $100 bills out of her purse to pay his cell phone bill.
And if that isn't already a new kind of gold digging heaven, Matthew never has to worry about getting cold since the toxic paint on Xtina's face exudes hot fumes all day long. Yes, Matthew is probably being exposed to radiation poisoning, but that's a small price to pay for living the FANCY LUXURIOUS life!
The glum cunt just got a little more glum, because a judge has ordered that he must empty out his swastika-shaped wallet and pay the thorn in his dick hole an extra $15,000 a month in child support for their baby Lucia. TMZ says that Oksana Grigorieva was hitting the battle field to get $60k a month from Mad Mel, but the judge in the case gave her $20k a month instead.
Oy well, I guess Baby Lucia will have to get used to regular diaper cream instead of imported stuff made from the anal tissues of a rare Kenyan pink hippo. And those custom-made ear plugs she uses when Mad Mel flies into another rage because NetFlix accidentally sent him Schlinder's List again will have to be traded in for regular ole' cotton balls. I know. How is Baby Lucia going to survive? Mad Mel really is a new brand of cruel.
And when Mad Mel asked if he could get his receipt every month in blow job form, every lawyer in the room shook their head no. Poor Mel. Stay glum, gum cunt.
Yes, this is a vintage photo of Camille Donatacci Grammer back when she made eyeballs swirl with her totally awesome radical dance moves on Club MTV, but I posted it so we can all see how truly timeless her NATURAL beauty is. Yes, my eyeballs are still swirling with delusion. Yes, I'll try to stop the swirls by poking my eyes with Visine. But now to the important business at hand....
Kelsey Grammer never made Camille sign a prenup before they were married 13 years ago, because he was so caught up in soul surfing through the AquaNet wave of gorgeousness above her head that he didn't even think about it. Because Kelsey never secured his money, sources tell Page Six that Camille could collect at least $30 million in a divorce settlement proving that gold diggers always win no matter what.
One of the sources explained, "Camille stands to get half of all syndication of 'Frasier' made during the years they were married. That's seven years of episodes, as well as income from other shows the company made, including 'Medium' and 'Girlfriends.' "
If Camille successfully snatches $30 million out of Kelsey's pocket, his worth will clock in at around $55 million. And it will dwindle even more when his latest knocked up piece tries to siphon a few million from his bank account after they break up.
Camille deserves $30 million and more! Stop yourself before you start arguing with me. Just look at her! Camille deserves that money for just being. Kelsey knows this so I doubt he'll try to fight her. The Frankenstein guido with Harvey Levin eyes in the picture above knows what I'm talking about. He is so stunned by Camille's beauty that he immediately signed over his Mazda RX-7 to her shortly after this picture was taken.
The gold digger who polished her shovel, kissed it for good luck and gently stuck it between Kelsey Grammer's ass cheeks is pregnant for real. Earlier this week, Kelsey's spokeswhore confirmed the rumors that he has replaced his gorgeous wax flower of a wife, Camille Grammer, with a 29-year-old British flight attendant named Kayte Walsh (This isn't getting Dr. Addie's stamp of approval). Kayte's daddy confirmed to the Daily Mail that Frasier's fifth kid is baking in his daughter's womb.
Alan Walsh, an ex-footballer who is only 2 years younger than Kelsey, is happier than a hard dick that his daughter is having a baby with a married man. Alan said, "It’s great news and we are very pleased for them both. I don’t know how long they have been together and I have not met him yet, but I’m looking forward to it. We just found out about her pregnancy a couple of days ago. I think they met in New York socially because she works for Virgin Airways and often stops over in America. The main thing is for them both to be happy and they are – they have just hit it off together."
Kelsey is such an easy mark. Kelsey doesn't have a prenup with Camille, and yet he still bones a young piece without blowing into the condom first to make sure there aren't any holes in it!? Why bother with lottery tickets! Scratching Kelsey's peen hole with your clit will make you an instant winner! Camille better hook up her at-home colonic machine to Kelsey's checking account and suck that shit dry.
Jessica Simpson's friends tell Star Magazine that her new man isn't with her, because he absolutely loves it when Papa Joe crawls into bed with them in the early morning hours for a warm spoon fest. He also isn't with her, because he finds it endearing that she still thinks all dogs are boys and all cats are girls. (<----- Something I too have a hard time dealing with). Jessica's friends say that Eric Johnson, who used to play for the New Orleans Saints, is only dating her, because the inside of his checking account looks like this.
Apparently, Eric is living with Jessica in her multi-million dollar mansion and isn't paying for shit. On their recent trip to Italy to celebrate her 30th birthday, Jessica pulled out her wallet for everything. The $3,000 a night hotel suite? Jess paid. The $5,000 chartered yacht? Jess paid. The fancy meals? Jess paid. One friend said, "Jessica is so starved for love, she just doesn't see any of Eric's faults. She's been paying for everything in their relationship, and it doesn't seem like Eric intends to stop that anytime soon."
I really don't see the problem here. As my mentor in my head, Alexyss K. Tylor, says, "Sometimes dick is so good that you just wanna slap somebody." Or in Jessica's case, sometimes dick is so good that you just wanna slap down your credit card and buy your hooker something shiny.
The dick game Eric is laying down on Jessica is obviously getting an A+++ from her! I mean, it's got her so twisted in the brains that she doesn't care if she's walking around in one of Mrs. Roper's old ones. Although, Jessica would also get twisted in the brains if you told her that Uncle Ben isn't really her uncle, so....
When the time came for Camille Donatacci to sign a prenup before getting married to her sugar daddy Kelsey Grammer, she slipped on a neon spandex bodysuit and hypnotized him with some totally awesome radical dance moves from her Club MTV days. The moves left Kelsey all wubba wubba wubba inside so he completely forgot about the prenup and it was never signed! This good news for gold diggers is brought to you by TMZ!
Their sources say that Kelsey married Camille without a prenup in 1997. This means that Kelsey might be living off tossed salad and scrambled eggs (THAT SONG!!!) for a while, because there's a good chance he'll have to hand over 50% of any money he made while married to Camille. I'm not sure what Kelsey's net worth is (Camille probably has it tattooed to her ass), but in 2001 he became the highest paid actor in TV after signing a $75 million deal for two years.
Camille deserves every single penny! If it wasn't for her Kelsey would be making tossed salad and scrambled eggs (THAT SONG IS KILLING ME!!!) at a Denny's in Monrovia! How do you think the network executives agreed to pay Kelsey $75 million for two years? Yup. When the negotiations with the executives began to break down, Kelsey opened up the conference room door and out came Camille in her neon spandex bodysuit. Camille busted out her Club MTV moves and you know what happened next. Signed, sealed and delivered thanks to Camille!
I don't want you to sign over everything you own to Camille, so I won't post a clip of her dancing. But I will give you this beautiful picture of Camille from her Club MTV days. You might want to clear the room of any pens and transfer slips before staring at it.
Doesn't the song "Baby, I Got Your Money" just play on a loop in your head when you look into her eyes? If Medusa was a gold digger...
There's no longer a need to go down to Michael Lohan's room at the halfway house and collect his "WORST FATHER OF THE CENTURY" award to give to Kelsey Grammer, because apparently Frasier did call his children on Father's Day contrary to the rumor going around. On Friday, it was reported that gold digging hero Camille Grammer was pushed to finally file for divorce after Kelsey didn't call his kids on annual CALL YOUR FATHER DAY. In a post on his site, Kelsey says this isn't so:
The truth is I did call my kids that evening. Frankly, I was surprised that they did not call me in the morning, but I was thousands of miles away and working that day so I didn't give it a second thought.
I called them to see how they were doing as I do almost every night at around the same time, 11 PM my time, 8 PM their time, just before they go to bed. Mason had been upset earlier that day because she was missing me. I spoke to her for some time and reassured her that I loved her and that I would be seeing her soon.
Gossip and the rumor mill always thrive during times like these, as in the Father's Day story. Whatever might be said, I ask that you take the 'high road.' I intend to do the same.
Camille and I had been discussing the possibility of a separation for some time before all this happened. She finally decided she should file. I respect her for this decision ... I hope to have a great partnership with her in the raising of our children.
Kelsey also pissed on (HAHAHA he can do that and you can't, Camille) the rumor that he's already fucking on another piece. Kelsey wrote: "Certainly, the time will come when I do see another woman. I expect Camille to see other men. I hope people and the press will understand that we are both free to carry on with our lives."
Now that FathersDayGate is officially closed, can we focus on more important things? No, not what Camille Grammer is going to wear during her tell-all interview with The Insider (that is important though). Can we focus on how I can't stop humming the "Tossed Salad & Scrambled Eggs" song every time I write a Frasier post. The last face I want to picture when I think of tossed salad is Kelsey's.
Gold digger extraordinaire and the spokesinestines for IBS, Camille Grammer, filed for divorce from her sugar daddy of 13 years Kelsey Grammer yesterday and both of them have kept their lips shut as to why their relationship flat-lined on the table. But TMZ's sources are pointing their fingers at Kelsey. They say that Kelsey was sick of being chained to the most exquisite angel in the hills and wanted out. The sources say that their already shitty marriage got extra shittier when Kelsey moved to NYC to star on Broadway in La Cage while Camille stayed in L.A. with the kids.
The source explains, "Kelsey loved New York, his friends and his freedom more than his marriage. She doesn't know what Kelsey is doing in New York, but he's made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with marriage anymore. She didn't see it coming."
The thing that really forced Camille to use her Black AMEX to buy the most expensive divorcin' dress at St. John was when Kelsey didn't call his chirruns on Father's Day.
Fuck Frasier with the Space Needle, right? Who does he think he is not calling his kids on FATHER'S DAY. Not only that, but I'm sure he didn't buy Camille a brand new white Bentley for Father's Day either. And I bet that when HIS Birthday rolled around, he failed to slap her on the wrist with a diamond and ruby tennis bracelet. What a selfish bastard asshole!
Camille had no choice but to legally quit that bitch, because she wasn't going to lounge on her mink-covered chaise while Kelsey dropped pieces of shit all over her. Okay, technically he dropped $50 bills on her, but that's even worse. I mean, he didn't even shower her with $100 bills! HOW CRUEL! I hope Camille eats up everything in Kelsey's savings account and then burps in his face.
Camille Donatacci Grammer, the Club MTV dancer who became one of my gold digging heroes when she married Kelsey Grammer 13 years ago, has filed for divorce today. TMZ reports that the irritable bowel syndrome spokeswoman (she really is) wants primary custody of their two kids as well as child and spousal support. Camille blamed the overused "irreconcilable differences" as the reason why she's shitting out their marriage. Hey, at least she's shitting out something.
This is actually kind of surprising. Camille escorted Kelsey to the Tony Awards a couple of weeks ago (above) and I've never heard any rumors of their marriage being in the toilet. Camille always struck me as a gold digger who is in it for the long haul. You know, the classy kind of gold digger who would rather bring her wheelbarrow to the reading of a will instead of divorce court.
Oh well. If there's a prenup, hopefully Camille melted it down and injected it into her lips so that she can collect as much gold as possible. Nobody wants to live in a world where Camille Grammer isn't always covered in fresh diamonds. The sun will refuse to shine.
And Camille is one of The Real Plastic Housewives of Beverly Hills, so I'm sure we'll see all of this mess go down in front of the cameras.