Why Are You Pulling My Dick?

Every dealer in the world has refused to give Lindsay Lohan another IOU and her checking account is as washed up as her career, so what is she to do to keep her nostrils tingling? Well, Blohan is trying to make a quick dollar by doing things the American way: filing a frivolous lawsuit that has absolutely no merit.

According to the New York Post, Blohan has filed a $100 million lawsuit against E-Trade, because she believes that a milkaholic baby named Lindsay featured in their latest commercial is a parody of her life. Lindsay's lawyer, Scrappy Doo (Scooby was busy doing more important things), is arguing that Lindsay is single-name famous like Oprah or Madonna.

HA! This is the funniest thing Lindsay Lohan has done in years! Bitch is the Charlie Chaplin of plaintiffs!

In the filing, Lindsay's lawyer argues (make sure to mute the laugh track in your head so you can focus on this ridiculousness), "Many celebrities are known by one name only, and E-Trade is using that knowledge to profit. They used the name Lindsay. They're using her name as a parody of her life. Why didn't they use the name Susan? This is a subliminal message. Everybody's talking about it and saying it's Lindsay Lohan."

Note to Blohan: I don't think White Oprah, Ali Lohan and all the voices in your head count as "everybody." In fact, that counts as "nobody."

Blohan wants $50 million in exemplary damages and another $50 million in compensatory damages.

A rep for the company who produced the commercial said they weren't even thinking of Lindsay Lohan when they named the milkaholic baby. They used "Lindsay," because it's popular and happens to be the name of one of their employees.

Here's the commercial in question. You be the judge (SPOILER ALERT: You will bring the gavel down on Blohan's head and throw her in the clink for wasting everyone's time):

I mean, I know Blohan regularly spits up, constantly poops her pants and stays away from solid foods, but the similarities stop there. Baby Lindsay isn't the color of a spoiled naranja and doesn't have lips like my chihuahua's anal glands.

Just when I was about to throw Eli Roth a compliment for looking sessy (aka like a waiter at a 1920s-themed murder mystery party) at the Oscars last night, I see pictures of him holding hands with Peaches Fucking Geldof! If you have no idea who Peaches Geldof is, just stick your finger up your b-hole, pull it out, smell it, and that pretty much sums her up.

Did Eli get the memo that Peaches is the worst?! I know Eli Roth gets hard for gore and horror, but this is ridiculous! I can't look at you anymore, Eli.

The 27-year-old chauffeur who told police that Naomi Campbell stomped all over his head with her fist has quickly backed up and is now apologizing to her for blowing things out of proportion. Throw the "Bitch, you scared" tag on this one.

Through his lawyer, Miodrag Mejdina issued a statement to the Associated Press saying he got "got angry and overreacted."

Yeah, Miodrag simply hit the brakes too hard and Naomi's closed fist accidentally hit the back of his head....several times (it's the bitch version of whiplash).

Shortly after Miodrag apologized to Naomi, she scared Jesus off the cross by flinching at him, got on, flipped her hair and said this:

"I was accused of unacceptable behavior towards a driver in New York. I have worked very hard on correcting my previous wrongdoings and I will not be held hostage to my past. I try to treat everyone with respect and I am pleased the driver has apologized. I would like to put the last few days behind me and move on."

So what are we saying about this one? Did Naomi seal Miodrag's lips shut with a crisp cashiers check? Or was Miodrag scared into silence when he woke up to find a broken Blackberry in his bed?

A broken Blackberry from Naomi is worse than a severed horse head, so I'm going with the latter.

Lady CaCa walks around in public with only dick-tucking panties on, and regularly sings about humping on someone's disco stick (or something), but that doesn't mean she's living the real-life version of Caligula. At MAC's Viva Glam charity event in London last night, Lady CaCa told reporters (via E!) that she's single and celibate at the moment. Eddie Murphy just frowned.

Lady CaCa queefed, "I'm single because I don't have the time. You know what? It's OK. Even Lady Gaga can be celibate, you don't have to have sex to be loved. If you can't get to know them, you shouldn't have sex with them. Orgasms are the biggest obstacles for women. Sex should be fun, beautiful and colorful, but women get the short end of the stick. We're just receivers. We can't talk about sex, we can't sing about sex."

Since we're suddenly in a sex ed. class now, can Professor CaCa explain to me what "getting to know them" means? Because in my circle jerk, getting to know them IS fucking around with them. I mean, how can I have a second date with someone if I don't know if the dick is good or not? If the dick sucks, do you really want to have pancakes with them in the morning?

My motto is, if you want to fuck 'em, fuck 'em. If you don't want to fuck 'em, go home, grab a bottle of lube and fuck yourself.

Kanye West launched a new blog yesterday, and one of his inaugural posts featured his gill cleaner Amber Rose recreating Grace Jones' iconic pose. Um. Yeah. Let's just file this under "The Look 4 Less" and keep moving.

This isn't the only thing that concerns me about Kanye's new "Homage to Wite-Out" blog. So far I don't see any evidence that his CAPS-LOCK key made the move. I see a lot of italics, though. Does this mean that italics are the new CAPS? NOOOOOO! This is not a change I can support. Reading things in all-italics makes me think of the terrible book reports I wrote in junior high school. I used to write them in all-italics to get that "old world" look. I even crumpled the papers up and burnt the edges with a BIC lighter. Don't make me relive the shame, Kanye!

Cheryl Cole of the UK girl group Girls Aloud is going through some bad marriage shit right now. Basically, her marriage is currently at the bottom of a toilet surrounded by a bunch of caca nuggets. Cheryl's footballer husband Ashley Cole is currently having a Tiger Woods moment, because mistresses are falling out of his crotch every time he goes in for a scratch. The Daily Mail says that a fourth ho has come forward claiming she did it on the down low with Ashley.

So what's a Cheryl to do? Well, Cheryl took her ass over to Los Angeles and is now crying on the Ken doll shoulder of Dancing with the Has-Beens dancer Derek Hough. The two have been out on several dates, and some seem to think Cheryl is only going out with him to make her husband all jealous and shit. Yes, I'm sure Ashley is crying tears of jealousy (LUBE!) into a hooker's ass thinking about Cheryl going out with a dude who looks like a kept Palm Springs boy toy turned gay porn star circa 1981. That was delivered with zero sarcasm, because we all want to go to lunch at Houston's with a gay porn star circa 1981. Let's be honest.

And here's more of Cheryl and Derek going to lunch at Houston's yesterday.

This week's POOP (nourish the inner asshole) newsletter teaches you how to get rid of your "batwings" using the Tracy Anderson Method. Now, I always thought the Tracy Anderson Method of toning your arms involved shoveling millions of dollars of other people's money into your own wheel barrow. What I'm saying is that bitch is a money-stealing fraud. But for shits, read what Fishsticks has to say:

Many of you may already know of my passion for the Tracy Anderson Method and my investment in it. She has kicked my formerly sagging ass (Ed note: Fishsticks will forever be a giant sagging ass. Nice try, though) into shape and I will be forever grateful. This week, Tracy shares with us a little arm series that I did everyday preparing for Iron Man and that I take on the road. She just made it home-made style for me, lo fi. But it's good. Especially for the batwing problem. Also, some of her dedicated clients talk about why they love her as much as I do. She has some brand new DVD's that I have been doing in my hotel room on location and which I highly recommend.

Could this ho be anymore pretentious? In my hotel room on location?! You LO FI BITCH, stay on location forever. And preferably a location with no wireless internet or any other form of communication (that includes carrier pigeons and campfires).

Anyways, here are the lo fi batwing-biotics Fishy does from her hotel room when she's on location, as presented by Tracy Anderson:

I have a feeling that Tracy The Thief has struck again. Tracy didn't invent this technique. I'm pretty sure this is what it looks like when Fishsticks tries to have sex with Chris Martin.

And don't try this at home or your (fill in the name of your boyfriend, cat, or imaginary friend here) will think you're crazy....er.

via HuffPo

The detectives over at Hollywood Life has pointed me to this picture from a photo agency of St. Angie's strange neck situation in Venice, Italy yesterday. This better make Vanessa Paradis immediately run for Johnny Depp's dick area and cover it with her life! Don't let go, Gappy, because St. Angie's man-stealing tentacles are already starting to show themselves. ....Or maybe Angie's wearing a mask, because the divine beauty from her natural face could turn a mere mortal's retinas to dust.

Hollywood Life brought in their own experts to analyze this photo, and they've come to the conclusion that these pictures have been touched by Photoshop. One expert said:

“This photo is likely doctored and airbrushed. It’s blown up and looks distorted anyway, but if you look at the texture of the forehead, neck, chin and cheek mound right under her glasses, it is grainier and more pixilated than the back of the jaw."

Basically, St. Angie has hypnotized them into believing a lie! But seriously, when I stare at the picture long the only thing I'm telling myself is, "Why in the fuck are you about to hit publish on this post."

Yeah, it's going to be one of those days. So why don't you grab a bottle of something strong (Thunderbird or Clorox will work) and meet me in the park.

Vadge is practically an English film director since she sucked the life out of one for all those years, so she's the obvious choice to direct a movie about the affair between King Edward VIII and American socialite Wallis Simpson. And she's also a good choice because her arms look like they battled the Serbs in World War I.

Variety says that noted historian of the British monarchy Vadge will write and direct the biopic titled W.E. Alek Keshishian who directed Vadge's Truth or Dare will help her write the script. If Vadge's screenwriting style is anything like her songwriting style, then expect every other word to rhyme.

W.E. will tell the story of King Edddie VIII who left the throne only months into his reign in order to marry twice-divorced Wallis. The two became the Duke and Duchess of Windsor and lived a life of leisure as socialites.

Vera Farmiga of Up in the Air and Orphan is considering taking the role of Wallis Simpson.

This will be Vadge's second time yelling at actors through a blow horn. Her first movie, Filth & Wisdom, premiered at the Berlin Film Festival in 2008.

This sounds like a mess in the making, but as long as Vadge doesn't spread her acting skills over it, it shouldn't be too painful. Although, don't be surprised if she has to step into the role of Wallis Simpson at the last minute when Vera mysteriously gets attacked by a muscly, hairless creature (SPOILER ALERT: Vadge's vag) in her sleep.

And here's Vadge at the Brahma beer box in Rio with Gerard Butler (whose complexion is starting to resemble a scratched-at genital wart), Rodrigo Santoro and Baby Jesus.

Nicole Forrester is the Atlanta stripper who claimed she was carrying on an affair with Fuggie Fug's husband Josh Duhamel. Josh denied away, but Nicole still stuck by her story. Since Tiger Woods' bus full of harems ran over Nicole's spotlight and everyone forgot about her ass, she had to do something to keep the dollars raining on her snatch. So Nicole is now telling friends that she's pregnant, and she's 95% sure Josh is the father. And I"m 100% sure that she's full of shit.

According to The National Enquirer, Nicole, who already has two kids, told her friends that she's three-and-a-half months pregnant. One of Nicole's friends added, "She said, 'I'm carrying a million dollar baby!'" But if it's not Josh's, she's carrying a welfare baby.

But Nicole is the Wile E. Coyote of whores, because she fucked herself in the ass by previously saying she only had safe sex with Josh. Fail Whore. Nicole gives all gold digging sluts a bad name. First of all, Nicole effed up by not secretly recording Josh in the act. Missed opportunity. Second of all, don't ever give too many details, because you never know when you're going to have to pull out the baby card in the near future. Rielle Hunter, come and collect this amateur to show her how it's really done.