CPS Is On Line One
Every sign of rules in the pool area of every South Florida apartment complex needs to be updated to read: No Diving. No Alcoholic Beverages. And Absolutely No Filming Of Booty-Popping Videos Starring 6-Year-Old Boys.
In a music video that's like an air kiss to Child Protective Services, 6-year-old mini rapper Albert Roundtree Jr. of South Florida raps about poppin' booties while surrounded by a pool full of garbage barge hos in bikinis. This mess is like a Naughty By Nature video as seen through the eyes of PedoBear. All the adults involved in this full blown fuckery need to be arrested. Albert's parents needed to be arrested for spending their money on this ILLEGAL foolery rather than spending it on getting that boy's hernia looked at before it pops all over the place. Those hos need to be thrown in the back of a paddy wagon for shaking their asses at a little boy who doesn't even know what the hell he's rapping about. Although, maybe they're extra dim in the brains and mistook that boy for Flavor Flav without his gold-plated grill on. They still need to be arrested and charged for taking part in this Mary Kay Letourneau-approved shit.
But the most surprising thing is that this boy isn't a Smith.
The miniature Will Smith, Willow Smith, posted this picture to her Instagram (via Daily Mail) and it's got some people siccing CPS on her full-time, Scientology-appointed babysitter or whoever the hell is raising her since it's obviously not Jada and Will. In the state of California, kids under the age of 18 can't get pierced without a parent's permission, which is why most of us tried to pierce our "straight ear" (or the "other gay ear" as I call mine) using our abuelita's sewing needle, a Ziploc bag full of ice and the determination to look like Jordan Knight. The key word being "tried," because I couldn't do it and quickly realized that the easiest way to achieve that look is by taping one of my mom's earrings on my lobe. New Kids glamour without the pain.
Jada Pinkett Smith is forever trying to be "cool mom," so I wouldn't be surprised if she signed off on Willow stabbing her tongue for the sake of ~EDGY FASHUN~, but that looks fake to me. That stud is almost half the size of Willow's head. If that shit is real, then I fully expect to see the Daily Mail headline "Willow Smith Rips Her Tongue Back And Forth," because things won't end well when you put braces and a tongue ring in the same mouth.
You know, now that I think about this shit, that piercing probably is real, but it has nothing to do with fashion. It's just a Scientology tracking ball that doubles as a device that filters out any reasonable and honest statements before they leap off of Willow's tongue. That's all!
Willy Wonka is not going to be happy that one of his Oompa Loompa took his favorite pair of glasses without asking. Drop that trick in the bad egg trap door!
If La Leche League cared about the shitastic ramblings of a pickle-brained midget sasquatch, I'd tell Snooki that she was in danger, girl. I doubt they do, so she can keep barfing at the mouth about breastfeeding all she wants. But before we get to that mess, Snooki told Good Morning America (via UsWeekly) she's naming the unborn guidoling in her womb Lorenzo (Enzo for short) and that she's taking her whole pregnancy really seriously. Snooki isn't even drinking wine, because she says she'll "be that person that has a glass of wine and [the] baby comes out with three legs." Well, Enzo probably wouldn't mind that since he'd have an extra leg to kick himself in the head with once he realizes that he's completely fucked and his parents have the parental skills of a jar of rancid pickle juice.
And about that breastfeeding shit, don't expect Snooki to follow in the nipple squirts of Dr. Blossom....
"I'm just scared. My friend did and she said it was so painful…but I definitely want to pump because it's the best nutrients for the baby. It's kind of like you're a cow and you're just milking."
I've never milked a cow, but I'm guessing it's nothing like pumping Snooki's titty leche. I'm sure that while you're milking the cow, it doesn't queef in your face and beg you to massage its fupa with pizza grease.
Besides, if Snooki wanted to breastfeed, it's not like Enzo would ever get a chance to suckle on Snooki's tete anyway. Snooki's filled with so much vodka that her mammary glands are going to make nothing but White Russians. The entire Jersey Shore cast is going to line up to put their mouth under that nipple knob. Open bar titties!
Honey Boo Boo Chile, the go-go juice-guzzling breakout star of Toddlers & Tiaras, is getting her very own reality show produced by the same Lucifers of minions who put her on TLC (The Traumatizing Little Children Channel). TLC announced that Alana's spin-off show called "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" will follow Ritalin's arch rival as she spazzes out at Princess Leia who has broken into the family palace to strangle her coupon queen mother with a chain. Deadline has more details about this soon-to-be hillbilly mess of a show:
The series, titled Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, is described by the network as “an inside look into Alana’s world where the 6-year-old pageant sensation proves that she is more than just a Go-Go Juice-drinking beauty queen. When she’s not chasing after crowns, Alana’s with her family in rural Georgia doing what her family does best: four-wheeling through mud pits and picking up road kill for the family cookout.” TLC has ordered six half-hour episodes to premiere in August.
The tragic part is that I'll probably watch every episode while drinking PURPLE DRANK (go-go juice is too classy for me) from a Big Gulp cup. Yes, I am the problem. TLC should just title this show, Brit Brit: The Early Years. TLC should also go ahead and green light a show for the 2022-2023 season called Dr. Drew Presents Tarnished Tiaras & Therapy starring Honey Boo Boo Chile and every other damaged child beauty queen from T&T.
On his talk show, The Daily Mail Show with The Silver Fox!, Anderson Cooper continued to stretch his arm out toward that Peabody Award by bringing out the factory-defected Linda Hogan Real Doll who was the 2011 valedicwhorian of Pimp Mama Kris' Night School of Murdering Your Kid's Childhood with Botox for Some Screen Time. We all know The Human Barbie as that Ipkiss-faced pile of melted doll skin who's on The Daily Mail every other month for giving her 7-year-old daughter a voucher for future plastic surgery work. Well, Andy Coo had her on his show yesterday and he tried to get into her head even though he would've found more interesting shit if he peeked into the head hole of an actual Barbie doll. Once Anderson realized that The Human Barbie was only on his show for the free publicity (THIS IS NEW INFORMATION!), he dropped a "Bitch, Be Gone!" on her ass by telling her to sashay away. The audience's nostrils were filled with the scent of an over-microwaved Tupperware lid from The Human Barbie getting burned by the Silver Fox.
After the show, Anderson taped a video note backstage where he said that he banished her from his stage, because her brain is not capable of producing honest thoughts and he felt that the fame whore was only there to be a fame whore. Yeah, Anderson's light bulb takes a while to light up, but when it lights up, it REALLY lights up.
In all seriousness, Anderson is a real journalist, so he obviously did his research and knew what he was dealing with. That is why I can't co-sign this shit. Anderson could've played it three ways:
The serious journalist way: Don't put a fame whore on the show at all and instead devote the entire hour to important topics other serious news organizations cover like the day's most popular cat videos and an exclusive interview with the man who jumped out of a window during a local news report.
The semi-serious journalist way: Bring on a mental health professional to try to talk some realness into The Human Barbie before an agent from Britain's Child Protective Services storms the stage to drag her away.
The 100% STUNT QUEEN way: Bring out a folding table, cover it with delicious plastic breakfast foods (that bitch only eats plastic, right?) and allow The Human Barbie to enjoy it all during her interview before acting out a completely choreographed food fight after one of the audience members calls her a "DISGUSTING FAT LOOSER WHORE!" Then Andy's bald-headed security guard will come out and drag her backstage as everyone chants, "ANDY! ANDY! ANDY! ANDY!" Oh, and The Human Barbie should throw her shoes at one point during the brawl.
Obviously, I'd go with option #3, because I really want to see the Silver Fox throw a silicone croissant at a bitch.
A bear trap, a sloth with a drinking problem, a Skee-Ball ball, the animatronic Abraham Lincoln from Disneyland, a pigeon skeleton, a cardboard cutout of the It Clown, Donatella Versace, John Travolta's weekday wig, the creepy girl at the groomers who told me my dog has nice legs, an empty can of Tab, the broken Sleep 'N Snore Ernie in my childhood bedroom closet, Blue Ivy Carter, green ivy (the plant), a skunk's nose hair and a pack of wolves in sheep's clothing are all things I'd let my hold my baby before I'd let White Oprah hold my baby.
Either somebody disagrees with me or they asked all those things to hold their baby and all those things were busy doing other stuff. Because today at The Grove in L.A., Lindsay Lohan's pimp mom held an actual living, breathing human baby being without the supervision of several government agencies. I don't know if White Oprah knows that baby or she just randomly picked that baby up, but I find it really strange that a plainclothes Child Protective Services agent didn't immediately tackle her to the ground while another agent grabbed the baby. Shouldn't CPS be tailing her at all times?
On a positive note, if I was a baby, I'd want White Oprah to hold me too. White Oprah's breath is 100 proof and the shittiest thing about being a baby is that you can't buy your own booze.
It's (NSFW) Lurid Digs: The BABY!!! Hoarder Edition!
If I had 14 kids living under one roof with me, my house would have the word Ayúdame (written by me) scrawled on all of its walls, there would be used heroin spoons scattered all over the floor and every door would have been pulled off of its hinges. Obviously, I'd use the doors as a shield against all the baby poop thrown at me on an hourly basis. Basically, my house would make Grey Gardens look like the "after" shot in an episode of Clean House. But that's why I don't have 14 kids! Which leads me to these pictures from TMZ of OctoMom's House of Horrors. Honestly, I expected a lot worse. Don't get me wrong, it still looks like an abandoned mental hospital turned crack house and I'm sure it smells like a diaper genie's fart times a million, but I still thought it would look a whole lot more disgusting.
Octo's hairstylist (I'll get to that later) gave TMZ the pictures after she filed a complaint with the La Habra Police Department. Stephanie the hairstylist told police and TMZ that the house is covered in graffiti and it has only one working toilet. The kids have to use potty training toilets in the backyard. Octo tried to get the plumbing fixed, but she decided against it after a plumber told her it would cost $150. Stephanie says that the children run around pantless and some of them even have to sleep on the floor since there's not enough mattresses for all of them. Oh, and what's locked behind door number WTF in the picture above? It's not Octo's sanity! It's her kids. Octo told Stephanie that sometimes she keeps them in the bedroom. Do not show this picture to my dog or he may use the same trick on my ass.
La Habra police as well as Child Protective Services paid a visit to Octo's house and looked around for about 90 minutes. They ruled that none of the kids are in immediate danger, so they didn't remove any of them from the house and will continue to investigate.
And about Octo's hairstylist, even though she's still on government assistance and refuses to pay $150 to fix the toilets, she wrote Stephanie a $520 check for two haircuts and a Brazilian blowout.
Octo's house is a mess, the children are pooping in the backyard, their sleeping pads were made by Lumber Liquidators and it's only a matter of time before they declare mutiny on her by drowning her in baby piss, but at least her hair looks hot, right? Who cares about the needs of children?! Nothing else matters when your beauty is intact.
A funny thing happened last week, useless trust fund trash Peaches Honeyblossom Geldof gave birth to an actual human being and the authorities didn't quickly sweep in to grab that poor child and give him to something that can raise him better than she can, like an actual peach fermenting on the dirt. So because that didn't happen, Peaches and her sexy hot fiancé Thomas Cohen are now raising a son who she'll eventually trade for a half-smoked Pall Mall when she needs a quick fag fix. Peaches made the announcement on Twitter yesterday and I'm sure she's already tattooed this announcement on her kid's inner thigh using old mascara and a heated needle:
Yes, its true- I'M A MUMMY!!!!
My little boy is the most beautiful thing in this world. When he holds @tomfromscum's finger with his hand its the sweetest thing ever. X
Why couldn't Peaches mean that she turned into an actual mummy. That problem could be solved with a simple call to Brendan Fraser.
As for the name, Peaches rep (she has one of those) tells Metro UK that they have named their son Astala. Yeah, ASTALA. Personally, I sort of like the name Astala since it sounds like the name of the last boss in a Prince of Persia video game or like the name of a perfume for your butt cheeks by Alexis Carrington. I'm just mad that Astala's middle name isn't Vista.
All further jokes about Peaches' possible mothering skills aside, at least Astala Vista Baby has a father who knows how to pick a pair of pants that gives off the illusion of having a low hanging camel toe. That is a quality all father's should have.
Since the Billy Joel of ginger-haired crackies, Lindsay Lohan, can't stay away from her true soulmate the California Justice System for long, she blew a freckled-embedded air kiss at the Probation Department the other night by ("ALLEGEDEDLY!" - White Oprah) grazing the knee of some dude with her Porsche outside a club in Hollywood. You know, I was thinking about this for a while yesterday and so I fisted myself on the side of my head for thinking about this for a while. But that punch knocked a thought into the tattered, burnt, whiskey-soaked loofah sponge in my head. LiLo is just a few days away from being free of probation and she somehow gets caught up in more fuckery. It's like she's got that Munchausen syndrome shit, but instead of feeding her baby laundry detergent so she can take it to the emergency room, she fucks up so she can go back to court. Bitch has Crackhausen syndrome by proxy!
Of course, LiLo denied on Twitter yesterday that any of this happened. LiLo's Porsche never touched a bitch and she was only at that club because her bible study class gets together in its basement every Wednesday morning:
"Scrape? This is all a complete lie. I've been at community service. Last night, I attempted to wish a friend happy birthday, which I didn't even get to do because I was freaked out by all of the paparazzi."
These false accusations are absurd."
Before you say that it's always Opposite Day in LiLo's head and you wouldn't trust a thing she said even if her tongue was notarized, she has an eyewitness! In the video above, a
Detroit Rock City extra who can't let go 16-year-old girl tells TMZ that she was there and LiLo's car never scraped anybody's knee. Young Sarah says that the hookah lounge manager was on a staircase the entire time and didn't come close to LiLo's car. Sarah claims that she heard the manager come up with the idea for scamming LiLo and said she was going to pay. Either the most popular flavor at that dude's hookah lounge is "delusion" or he's a sea jasper aficionado, because that bitch ain't got no money.
I have my doubts that the person talking in that clip is actually a 16-year-old girl from Los Angeles named Sarah. 16-year-old girls aren't hanging out in club parking lots at midnight. They're talking shit on the Internet while snorting vodka through a neti pot like a normal teenager (or like a grown ass gay blogger from the San Gabriel Valley) does. Something in the milk ain't clean. That's not a girl named Sarah. That's Cody Lohan covered in the essence of Ellen Page, an Amish boy wig and the eyeglasses of a professional poker player from the late 90s! I can almost see the edge of the cue card White Oprah is holding up.
And please spend a few minutes (or hours, or days) with Sarah's Flickr page, because she has posed with every single celebwhore on the planet. You decide whether or not you can trust a girl who is severely dedicated to making the same facial expression and head tilt in every single picture she takes.
The executives at Lifetime must be patting themselves on the horns this morning, because last night's episode of Dance Moms won the not-so-coveted pedophile demographic and made Toddlers & Tiaras look like a video tutorial on how to be a good parent. Head monster in charge, Abby Lee Miller, continued to live vicariously through her skinny dance students by putting them in as little clothes as possible to give the illusion that they were naked showgirls. The moms were appalled, but not one of them busted a citizen's arrest on their own asses for letting this happen. The judges nearly ran to Claire's to buy pearls for them to clutch, but not one of them cried for Chris Hansen to deliver them from this evil. And Abby Lee Miller sat there, eating while bahahahahaha-ing on the inside at how she's corrupted another young soul.
Who in the Jon Benet Dance Troupe Hell thinks it's okay to put "naked," "on stage" and "10-year-old" together in the same equation. Somebody needs to turn Abby Evil Miller around to look for a zipper on her back, because I'm pretty sure she's PedoBear wearing a reworked Ursula costume.