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OctoMom chewed off her straitjacket, slipped past the mental hospital security guards, stole an outfit from a hitchhiking hooker in Denver who hasn't bought a new dress since 1991, and made her way to NYC to tape an interview with the ladies of The View. An interview that was co-sponsored by the Food and Drug Administration and the Department of Mental Health.

Seriously, it's as if Amadeus' laugh took a sponge bath in liquid meth. I kept waiting for her to hand Hasselcrack a poison apple. I mean, OctoMom needs to replace her collagen injections with Ritalin injections.

What I'm trying to say here is that a pile of bat shit looks at OctoMom and says, "Bitch, you crazy!"

Jon Grosselin can finally flash a dick that is bigger than a marmoset's thumb thanks to these peen pants courtesy of designer Isabel Mastache. Yes, he'll have to stuff it, but nobody needs to know that.

At her show in Madrid, Isabel showcased the pants that will quickly get you a date, a slap to the face or a night in the clink.

I'm sure the sluts out there really don't appreciate these pants at all. When a huge slut sees anything that remotely resembles a big hard dick, they immediately get on their knees to handle that shit. So there will be a lot of unhappy whores out there with a mouthful of lint. A new meaning to "lint licker." So don't laugh when you see cotton dingles on my tongue.

And here's a video of the show from Queerty. Believe it or not, this mess isn't the craziest thing from Isabel's mind. I think I spotted a labia hat.

The resistance against Quween of the Scene has formed and is attacking hard. The first attack came when Quween lost Hot Slut of the Year (I BLAME ALL OF YOU)! The second attack came when Quween was arrested for trying to offer her anti-posarassi services to LeAnn Rimes. The third attack came when Betty White threw Quween shade and thanked her for NOT being a friend. And the fourth attack happened yesterday when a bicycle cop in sessy shorts wrote her a ticket for wearing those boots in public. No, he busted her for "aggressive solicitation."

What is the fifth attack going to be? Phoebe Price refusing to pose with Quween on the ho stroll?! If it gets to that point, then we know we've got a real international national statewide county local block-wide emergency on our hands!

Have you noticed that your cat has been scratching at its nose like there's snakes coming out of its nostrils, or bumping into walls as though it's trying to jump through some kind of magical portal? You might have realized that something wasn't right when you got a call from the police, because they found your cat snuggling with a frozen turkey in the poultry section of your grocer's cooler. Well, you might want to clear your cupboards of Friskies and drop your cat off at Promises in Malibu, because Purina is feeding your cat the bad shit.

If you don't believe me after watching the one-way acid trip above, then watch this clip below. Guess what this hairless pussy has been eating? Uh huh.

via Brand Freak & Buzzfeed (Thanks Ryan)

Johnny Weir and the other enchanted unicorns of the ice weren't the only hos in North America prancing and posing for their lives last night. The furry bitches at Westminster also strutted like it was the first of the month. Roundtown Mercedes Of Maryscot, or Sadie for short, proved that she was the top bitch in the game and sashayed away with the crown. Sadie didn't even have to answer no dumb ass question to win. All she had to do was bat her eyes and shake those nipples. Speaking of nipples and Scottish Terriers, it's oversharing time! What else is new?

When I was a teenager, my best friend at the time regularly house sat for this middle-aged couple who lived down the street from him. They looked just like Captain and Tennille. You will need that piece of info for the visual later.

Just like any self-respecting house sitter, he would always go through their shit whenever he got bored. Well, one time he called my ass over, because he said he had something "good" to show me. Little did I know that I was about to get scarred for life. When I got there, he showed me dozens of pictures of Mrs. Tennille completely naked ass naked. Muskrat and all. That wasn't the bad part. The bad part was that in almost every picture she was either holding one of their Scottish Terriers in her arms, or one of the dogs chilled out in the background while she spread it for the camera. So whenever I see a Scottish Terrier, I always see a pair of 55-year-old saggy titties next to it.

On that note, here's more pictures of Sadie and the other dogs of Westminster. Peta, who needs LESS people, showed up to try and rain on the parade. Where the fuck were they when Mrs. Tennille was committing Scottish Terrier abuse!

The best part of this clip isn't the pelican trying to do beak-to-ass sex with the weatherman. It's the damn weatherman screaming like he's never been poked in the culo by a hard object. Bitch please. Why do you think the pelican is even hitting on him? The pelican knows exactly what the dude is into since he read it on the bathroom wall down at the local gay bar.

via Warming Glow

Andre Leon Talley stomped through the tents at Fashion Week in NYC yesterday challenging Peta to come at him with a flour bomb. You can tell Bigfoof is ready to rumble. Underneath that stole of furry death, he's got on his scrappin' clothes. That's basically the same outfit my cousins would wear when getting ready to jump a bitch for trying to get with their man.

Andre can't wait for Peta to flour bomb his ass, so he can take that flour, mix it with some of his titty leche, bake it between his ass cheeks and eat that cake in front of them while lying naked on that fur blanket.

You might still have the taste of leaky ass juice on your tongue from listening to an amazing voicemail left by Dimitri the Lover (the self-proclaimed Casanova of Toronto) that made the rounds a couple of years ago. In the voicemail, Dimitri told a lady she was very "elegant" (for this I can never fully hate Dimitri) before attacking into her for not returning his calls. Well, he's baaaaaaaaack and this time he's not only terrorizing your ear holes AND genitals, but now he's violating your eyeballs too. Hell, he's making all your organs ache in a bad way.

Dimitri is currently shopping a Borat-style documentary around, and the test trailer for it is above. It basically farts for itself (i.e. "I am the Travelocity of vaginas"). Just like the douchebag himself, it will make your privates ache as if it got a Brazilian wax with Gorilla Glue.

And I also can never look at a $1 bill the same way again, because Dimitri looks like something you'd get if you mixed George Washington, Fabio, a 42-year-old virgin, a cup of pina colada lube, National Lampoon and the clearance rack of a Men's Warehouse.

And just for record-keeping purposes, I would definitely not hit it even if he wore an Anderson Cooper mask (I'm lying).

(Thanks S.S.)

The demure goddess known as CoCo is giving Angelina Jolie some competition for the title of "Our Modern Day Mother Theresa" by asking all her Twitter followers to go hard for Haiti and buy the t-shirt she's wearing. You know CoCo means business since she put on her high-heeled sneakers for the occasion. You also know that CoCo can do anything she puts her planet-sized ass to. CoCo's ass goes hard (just ask her toilet)!

And I love that CoCo's triple decker ass makes that fire extinguisher look like it's the size of Jon Gosselin's penis.

via Tabloid Prodigy

YES, this is supposed to Debbie (I will never call her Deborah) Gibson showing off her new bikini body in the pages of InTouch Weekly. That's what both WOW Report and Tabloid Prodigy say. But even if I squint my eyes while teasing my hair and humming "Shake Your Love," I still don't see it. Maybe if I spray some Electric Youth cologne at the screen I'll see the Debbie we all know and love, because right now I just see Uma Thurman after going overboard in the sauna.

Now I know how Jodie Foster felt in Sommersby when she walked into the kitchen and expected to see her long-lost husband but found Richard Gere there instead. To the "Debbie Gibson" in the picture above: YOU ARE NOT MY HUSBAND!