Elegance Has A Name

I know you've been wondering what certified beautiful wreck Spaz de la Huerta has been up to ever since she was evicted from Boardwalk Empire, so here you go. Same shit, different camera (specifically, Terry Richardson's NSFW camera).

Oh you know, Spaz has been making out with old lipstick, pouting, airing her nipple slits out in public, pouting, airing her belly button slit out in public, making fun of ducks by....pouting, pouting, scratching her culo on a palm tree like the wild creature she is, pouting, going to the ER after she cut her ass lips on that palm tree, pouting and pouting some more while sitting on the toilet because it stings when she cacas thanks to the anal fissure she gave herself from rubbing her ass on that palm tree!

Adrienne Bailon and her amateur pook-a-poon theatrics can step aside, because here's a real divine goddess who knows how to serve HO SHIT with a heaping serving of class and elegance. No, this isn't Carmen Carrera with an Eva Longoria face mask on. This is a mysterious and delicate flower named Micaela Schaefer. I'm only calling her mysterious, because I don't know who the fuck she is!

Apparently, Micaela was on Germany's Next Top Model for a quick second, but was kicked off since Heidi Klum was jealous of her beauty. Obviously. Micaela now pays her pussy waxing bill with DJ gigs and appearances at such family friendly events like the Holiday on Ice Show in Berlin. Micaela sashayed into the Holiday on Ice Show and gave the children some Holy Bible glamour by coming as the gorgeous slut version of the Garden of Eden complete with her not-so-forbidden fruits on display. I'm so glad that someone is teaching the children of Germany that you aren't officially a style icon until you've chafed your pussy lips on a piece of fake snakeskin. I am just like that lady in the background. I can close my eyes forever now that I've seen it all.

My new rock bottom blogging moment is opening these pictures of Mickey Mouse's former concubine, Adrienne Bailon, at a Caesars event in NYC last night and zooming in close to see how much of her shaved cheetah is showing. I stared so long that I think it winked back at me or maybe it got the last bit of her dignity in its eye and was trying to blink it out.

Adrienne Bailon was in 3LW in the early 2000s, The Cheetah Girls in 2003 and then she was mostly known in 2007 for being in Rob Whoredashian (yes, that's me suggesting that she fingered that bubble butt on the regular). And you know that saying? Once you go whore, you're shameless to the core! Adrienne brought that saying to life last night when she wore this snatchtacular dress thing. Adrienne told Celebuzz that this dress is in the fashion line she did with her sister, but if it was up to her, she'd free her vagina of its sheer dress prison and always be nekkid ass nekkid.

“If I could come out naked, I would. This is just some fancy stuff to throw over my little naked body.”

BITCH, you should've just come out with your coochie out, because that dress is just stupidly ugly. That peach part looks like the balloon valance from a nursery window. It makes her look like a second tier Las Vegas hooker who's pregnant with desperation. What is the point of that thing?

I will passionately defend a trick who is pushing the ho shit agenda by flashing her coochie to the world, but Adrienne just looks like an idiot. If you're gonna show it, really show it. I love how in some pictures she's holding that ugly peach part down all demure-like and then lets it go right before her chocha sneezes so everybody can get a look at the goods. Please, bitch. You know she put some pepper on her pussy so it could sneeze all night. Atchu!

98% of JWoww was made in a plastic factory in China somewhere, but she's still a proud American and what do proud Americans do on Geena Davis Day (she's the only President I care enough about to honor)? They write a list of all the President's they'd like to fuck, of course. Truth is, I'm twisting my taint for not coming up with this first.

The First Lady of the Back Alley Plastic Surgeon Office got patriotic on her blog yesterday and listed all the Presidents she's wet smush on a moist mattress in the shore house. This list should really be the new Pledge of Allegiance:

Ulysses S. Grant
I heard he was an alchoholic. Sounds like he liked to party! He kinda looks like that actor Kevin Kline, right? LOL.

Abraham Lincoln
Who knew the dude on the $5 bill wasn't always so hairy. I bet the ladies loved him back in the day.

Bill Clinton
He might be old and gray but he was famous for not being able to keep it in his pants and a guy with a healthy sexual appetite is always sexy in my book.

George Washington
Who knew that the guy on the coin you use to get your laundry done was a bit of a looker. He can join me for some GTL anytime he wants!

George W. Bush
We all know this guy liked to party Jersey style and that makes him A-OK in my book.

Ronald Reagan
Movie star turned P.I.L.F!

Barack Obama
Yes we can!

John F. Kennedy
Too much of a ladies man in his day, but he liked a lady with curves and I am down with that.

Isn't that list so beautiful that it's got you singing, "Aaaaand the whooooore of the braaaaaave."

The gin-soaked tattered sponge in JWoww's head nearly melted yesterday when she spent at least 11 hours trying to figure out how to spell "Wikipedia" and "President" so she could look up all these hos she'd like to spangle her star on, but she didn't need to go to all that trouble. Bitch's list would still be 100% correct if she simply wrote:

ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!

JWoww would pussy hump every single President (alive or dead) until red, white and blue liquid started spewing out of their peen holes. That is the American way. I swear, JWoww is so modest.

Lindsay Lohan should probably be at her local H&R Block to ask their asses if they can sort out her tax situation in exchange for a suitcase of stolen joree and a week's worth of sloppy hand jobs, but instead she's posing for Terry Richardson again. Actually, these pictures are outtakes from her photo shoot for Love Magazine, so they're probably a few months old, but they somehow made their way onto the Internet yesterday. Uh huh. That leak smells like a used urinal cake, a barback's bin, a barf burp, peroxide, old sardine juice and cigarette butts, so I'm sure White Oprah leaked this shit to make all of us forget the last photo shoot LiLo did with Uncle Terry.

That last photo shoot looked like scenes from a retirement for crack whores and in this one she actually looks good? Maybe it's because I'm always used to seeing LiLo looking like four layers of hell loosely wrapped around lukewarm tragic, but these aren't that bad. We've all seen worse and the "nothing difficult about this brown" pose is a true work of sophisticated classiness. And I can already hear the "CLOSE YER MOUTH, BITCH" comments, but if your nostril canal was like a maze game, you too would be a permanent mouth breather.

Late last week, esteemed art professors from the world's most prestigious universities updated their curriculum to include the only piece of "woman & child" art worth teaching: the precious portrait of a fully naked Auntie CoCo nearly suffocating her nephew with her luscious silicone chichis o' plenty. And the star of that masterpiece graced Las Vegas with her exquisiteness at Pure in Las Vegas. Wearing a one-of-a-kind ho dress from Frederick's of Hollywood's couture collection, CoCo stood upright on the carpet despite the fact that the extra glazed honey-baked hams on her chest tried to take her down while the extra glazed honey-baked hams on her ass tried to take her the other way. CoCo doesn't defy the laws of gravity, CoCo IS gravity.

CoCo redefines glamour with every glide of her sausage thighs and anybody that disagrees will be attacked in their sleep by a camel toe, but I do wish she took her look to new levels of class by wearing the butt cleavage dress. Maybe she saved that to wear to Sunday mass this morning. Probably.

The ho stroll has been eerily quiet of the sound of clear plastic bra strips rubbing up against greasy lizard skin and that's because 17-year-old porn iguana beauty Courtney Stodden has been working hard. Freecreditscore.com cast the underage amphibian goddess as a merskank in a big-budget (read: no budget) Super Bowl-worthy commercial (read: it will play during the Robin Byrd Show on public access). Looking like the beauty on a can of Lizard of the Sea, Courtney plays an exquisite merskank who was created when a komodo dragon on high-grade ludes had a threesome with Flotsam AND Jetsam in a toxic waste puddle off the shores of Chernobyl.

Your ass might be thinking that Freecreditscore.com should be arrested for giving Courtney a stage to awkwardly squirm around like she's trying to hack a hairball up while solving a basic algebra problem at the same time, but this was a smart move on their part. If it fails as a commercial (it has), they can always sell it to Discovery as a new episode of the Deadliest Catch. Nobody will know the difference.

If you can't see the video above, consider yourself SAVED! Or just click here to see Courtney as Ariel's sister Achlamydia.

via Radar

The Mona Lisa has had a good run as the First Lady of High Art, but the time has come for her to slide off of the wall, because a worthy replacement has emerged in Desperate Scousewives star and my personal deity Layla Flaherty. You can't tell me that you wouldn't wait 2 hours in a line outside of the Louvre to see the stunning portrait above behind bulletproof glass:

It's meant to be, right? It's like the Mona Lisa is only meant to be a preview for the true work of beautiful art that is to come. I'll add your name to the "Layla Flaherty To Replace The Mona Lisa" petition I'm going to send the Louvre.

In just a couple of weeks, Layla Flaherty has made me a believer of whatever she's preaching by carrying herself with dignity, grace and class. Take the other night for instance. Most whores would spend their night getting so fucked up on the sweet nectar that they'd suck off anything, make an ass out of themselves in the middle of a Subway and eventually pass the hell out on a street barrier before getting carried to their car (like all of us!). But not Layla. Layla spent her night cleansing that dirty, slutty city with her vat of holy water mouth. Layla baptized the head of a lip gloss peen! Layla baptized the wrapper around a foot long (I bet that foot long was so pissed it was wearing a paper condom)! Layla baptized a Sprite bottle! Layla baptized the glass door of a Subway that probably has already been baptized by the piss splatters of a hobo! Layla baptized a dress bow! And after all that baptizing, Layla grew so exhausted from all her charitable deeds that she passed out and had to be carried back to her church by one of her disciples.

If this isn't proof that Layla is the second cumming coming, then I don't know what is.

Layla, you've got me on my knees and worshiping at your pristinely exquisite feet.

You can pick up your cape from off of the floor, because I know that when you see such a refined lady like this your instinct is to throw some cloth down so her gentle feet won't sweep against the dirt of skanks. But Layla Flaherty of Desperate Scousewives (and the newest sparkly charm that hangs on the edge of my soul) is of the people and the Goodwill Ambassador of Ho Shit spread world peace as she spread whiskey saliva from her tongue on trick after trick when she left a club in London last night. Lady Layla not only wrote a new definition for elegance by humping a cab seat, but she also showed us that she's multilingual by articulately signing the phrases "fuck you," "eatin' pussay," and "dirty sanchez" in ASL. Words are cheap when you've got two fingers you can use to make the symbol for cooch.

Why is Layla not teaching children?! Our future needs to look just like this. I'd get my dead body cryogenically frozen so that I could come back and live in a world where everyone is as gracefully demure as Layla. Finally, a lady.

"This is what beauty can be! Beauty celestial the best you'll agree..." are not only the lyrics to a Stephen Sondheim song, but those are also the words that fell from my head like rose petals on a silk pillow when these pictures of demure Irish noblewoman Layla Flaherty of the UK reality show Desperate Scousewives graced my monitor. Nope, it's not a swan gracefully twirling on a puddle of crystal ice nor a virgin flamingo balancing an iridescent bubble on her knee. It's a lay-deeee.

Layla (the real inspiration for Eric Clapton's song) left a refined establishment (a titty bar named Platinum Lace) in one of the poshest neighborhoods in London (the West End) wearing a couture dress straight off the runways (of New Look) and carried herself like a true lady (she took an invisible dump on the sidewalk and got into a fight).

The pay phone outside of Layla's room will be ringing any day now and it will be a call from the Queen who will invite her over for tea in exchange for a lesson on how to air your pussy out in public while keeping a ladylike composure.

"You're welcome." - Ireland to England