You In Danger Girl

Anthony Bourdain of No Reservations seems like a kinky motherfucker who will handcuff you to his Waterworks kitchen faucet and smear your body with melted butter made from the milk of rare miniature cows imported from Holland, but butter will never melt for him again now that he has verbally thrown a ham at Paula Deen's face. Anthony took a break from eating panda brain burgers and capybara nipple pasta to cross his legs, purse his lips and get Paltrow-like on the kids in the cafeteria who buy lunch every day.

Anthony had some real shit to say to TV Guide about Paula, Rachael Ray, Drunk Ass Sandra Lee and Guy Fieri (government name: Heat Miser):

“The worst, most dangerous person to America is clearly Paula Deen. She revels in unholy connections with evil corporations and she’s proud of the fact that her food is fucking bad for you . . . plus, her food sucks.” About Ray: “Does she even cook anymore? . . . To her credit, she never said she was good at it.” On Lee: “I hate her works on this planet, but she is not someone to be dismissed, clearly.” And Fieri: “I look at Guy and I just think, ‘Jesus, I’m glad that’s not me.’ ”

Anthony can keep spitting out hate balls of cuntness at Rachael Ray since she's about as annoying as a dizzy dick who keeps hitting your taint instead of your sex hole. Sandra Lee can't hear what Anthony is saying about her since she's passed out head first in a punch bowl full of cooking wine, melted orange Popsicles and Fiesta Punch Shasta (aka chilled fizzy sangria). Guy Fieri, who cares about his ass. But Paula Deeeeeeeen?!!!!? Yes, a pacemaker shows up at my front door every time I see Paula make something like funnel cake grilled cheese, but she IS America. Paula's hair is the shade of a bald eagle's tear and she squirts out Ranch dressing (the official food of America)! Paula Deen is dangerous, alright. Dangerously delicious!

Paula pulled out her butter bat and hit back at the pretension shit Anthony launched out of his mouth. Paula told Page Six:

“Anthony Bourdain needs to get a life. You don’t have to like my food, or Rachael’s, Sandra’s and Guy’s. But it’s another thing to attack our character. I wake up every morning happy for where I am in life. It’s not all about the cooking, but the fact that I can contribute by using my influence to help people all over the country. In the last two years, my partners and I have fed more than 10 million hungry people by bringing meat to food banks.

My good friends Rachael, Guy and Sandra are the most generous charitable folks I know. They give so much of their time and money to help the food-deprived, sick children and abandoned animals. I have no idea what Anthony has done to contribute besides being irritable.”

You know, not everybody can afford to pay $58 for prime rib or $650 for a bottle of wine. My friends and I cook for regular families who worry about feeding their kids and paying the bills . . . It wasn’t that long ago that I was struggling to feed my family, too.”

I think what Paula really means is that her butter elves are currently trying to lure Anthony into her heart attack factory using Siberian tiger steaks. Don't be surprised if on the next episode of Paula's Home Cooking, you see her making double deep fried Bourdain butt cheeks with a candy apple butter sauce. "Cannibalism never tasted so good, y'all!"

Anthony really needs to stop being such a fancy queen. You know he'd down low nibble on Paula's butter crumble muffin if she served one up to him.

Vegan, animal activist and noted cuntatarian Morrissey puked out a quarter pounder of shit with an extra slice of inappropriateness the other night when he compared the massacre in Norway to the slaughter of cows for McDonald's "meat." Hold that thought, Morrissey, because Lady Caca's slaves delivered bags upon bags of McDonald's to all of the fans that waited outside of the Chateau Marmont for hours to meet her. Why wait for hours to meet Caca when they could've been at home fucking themselves with a Breathless Mahoney doll since it's practically the same thing? But that's a question for another day.

Along with the bags full of screaming cow patties, Caca attached this little love note:

"Dear little monsters. Thank you for singing to me all day and night. I love you with all my heart. You make everyday worth living. Kisses to the cops for keeping you safe. Love Lady GaGa"

Do you want to wrap the map to Caca's meat Nazi (Meatzi?) bunker in lettuce leaves and pass it to Morrissey or shall I? Wait. Or are we supposed to bolt the theater doors and hold Caca down while Morrissey writes "MEATZI" on that bitch's forehead in tahini sauce? I forget how the movie goes.

And here's Lady Hitler leaving her hotel last night while looking like a lazy-eyed, coked-up trans bunny in a Donatella Versace wig and one of Morticia's old dresses. Or if you want the short version: looking like Elvira Aguilera.

Casey Anthony will skip out into the world tomorrow and it pretty much goes without saying that her head is wanted on a plate. Specifically, a paper plate sitting on Nancy Grace's desk that has the words "RESERVED FOR CASEY ANTHONY'S HEAD" written in the blood that drips out of Nancy's hair whenever she thinks about the Tot Mom verdict. Because of this, some say that Casey is considering changing her name (Might I suggest Grace Nancy?) and getting an Extreme Makeover (Child Killer Edition) so that a mob doesn't lynch her face off every time she steps out to serve chloroform-tinis at her strip club waitress job.

Radar and Star are way ahead of Casey and they put together this priceless composite of what she might look like if she tried to nip and tuck the Alanis Morissette right off her face.

After hours upon hours of Radar's interns downloading a bootleg copy of Photoshop with most of the tools missing, they spent about 2 quick seconds coming up with this masterpiece! So now you know to keep your toddlers, duct tape supply and chloroform stash away from a Sim with Giada Laurentiis face and modern day Kimmy Gibbler hair. You've been warned.

Two 30-something men were arrested outside of Joss Stone's house in England on Monday after police got a call about a "suspicious vehicle" trolling around the neighborhood. The suspicious vehicle was a Fiat. (Note: If you're going to partake in evil and shady schemes in a fancy neighborhood, don't do it in a Fiat.) When the police searched the vehicle, they found a bunch of shit that would make Kevin Costner's character in The Bodyguard SHUT IT DOWN and order everybody to a desolate cabin in the woods.

The cops found two swords, rope, a body bag, maps and aerial photos of Joss Stone's house. No, they were not planning on catching a wild turkey (with the rope), butchering it for a meal (with the two swords) and serving it to Joss on a waterproof picnic blanket (the body bag). Two swords, rope and a body bag can only mean one thing: MURDER PLOT! Did you read me, right? I typed: MURDER PLOT. This is the only acceptable reaction:

It is not known whether Joss was home at the time. The police wouldn't confirm the MURDER PLOT to BBC News but they are investigating it.

"Officers attended the area at around 1000 BST and subsequently arrested the occupants of a red Fiat Punto. Major crime detectives are continuing to investigate. Our officers are currently carrying out reassurance patrols and it's important to stress that no properties have been burgled and no individuals have been harmed."

Yes, I too read that as "Fiat Puto" and the images created by my brain will stay with me all day.

This is terrifying and Joss should surround herself with an army of Sean Beans, but TWO SWORDS? Who let the fanboys out of mom's basement? They do realize that Joss played Anne of Cleves in The Tudors and not Anne Boleyn?

Stay safe, Joss! And for once in your life, put on some damn shoes! Nike Airs, preferably. You can't outrun two sword-wielding crazies if your ass is barefoot! Now is not the time to be a hippie!

The nursery of mental asylums everywhere will be full of empty crib cages today, because all of the Beliebing toddlers will be in the computer labs, sending ALL-CAPS death threats to Jason Sudeikis. Jason better set up his e-mail settings to automatically reply with a link to buy chewable Prozac to any e-mail that contains the words "Jascunt Slutdookie" or "DIE." Because Justin Bieber's insane fans will be out for virtual blood.

Jason was on Jimmy Kimmel Live! last night and the two talked about the time they were on opposite teams for the NBA All-Star celebrity game. Jimmy was on the same team as Justin Bieber and asked Jason if he trash talked the lesbian baby Jesus. What Jason said will make every mentally unstable Belieber bite their pacifiers in half while Ina Garten toasts to him.

Jason: "Trash talk him? A little bit. Just a little bit. I didn't even know it was him for the first two quarters, I thought it was a Make-A-Wish situation."

Jimmy: "You were trash talking a Make-A-Wish kid?"

Jason: "Yeah, easy target."

I see what Jason is doing. Dude is obviously a Selena Gomez fan and is trying to take the heat off of her while rounding up some material for himself. Because who wouldn't want to get a virtual death threat like this:

You know, this Belieber is actually giving Selena major credit, because they think she can suck and fuck an ass at the same time. Some hos (John Travolta) go to yoga just so that they can stretch themselves into that position!

via EW.com & Buzzfeed

Some say that LeAnn Rimes should use her fingers to scoop handfuls of milkshake into her mouth instead of using them to Twitter every millisecond of the day, but she's obviously ignoring that advice. LeAnn Tweeted this picture of herself from her honeymoon, which made one of her followers say that she was "scary skinny" and her hipbones were popping out. This was LeAnn's response:

those are called abs not bones love.

This is my body, and I can promise you I'm a healthy girl. I'm just lean. Thanks for your concern, but no need to be.

Thank you, LeAnn. I was unaware that abs could look like bones trying to escape your body so that they can run to the nearest hospital and get some nourishment by soaking in a bowl of Ensure. I did not know this! But she shouldn't think she's so special, because I have abs too, love! They're just modest abs and are always hiding under a cloud of bloat and fried cheese fat.

via UsWeekly

Marg Helgenberger's Mother Day has no doubt been filled with e-mails calling her an "oLD jelliz h8r fat BiTch" and calls from bawling toddlers telling her to "DIAF" (Note: They actually say D-I-A-F, because they really don't know what it stands for. They just know it's bad.), because she has insulted their JESUS!!!! Marg kept it real with Europe1 (via NYDN) in France when they asked her what it was like working with Justin Bieber on CSI.

"Um. Justin Bieber wasn't bad. He never acted before. I shouldn't be saying this, but he was kind of a brat. He was very nice to me. But he locked one of the producers in a closet and he put his fist through a cake that was on the craft service table."

Locked a producer in the closet? I guess if Justin Bieber can't come out of the closet, NOBODY CAN! But seriously, if you were a 17-year-old superstar millionaire who doesn't know what a "no" is, you too might be a terrible shit who viciously murders cakes for sport and terrorizes television producers. I still cannot condone cake murder. Justin Bieber needs to stand trail as an adult for committing that crime.

Here's the clip of Marg putting a lump of rage in every Belieber's diaper (at the 2:33 mark):

And somewhere John Travolta is "eh-ing" at this since he regularly puts a fist through a producer in a locked closet.

Now that Lindsay Lohan has been confirmed for a role in that busted wreck of a movie starring John Travolta, it was only a matter of time before he got the idea to try to convert her from her current religion, Coke-olicism, to Scientology. The story goes that the producers of Gotti: Three Generations didn't want LiLo, but John pulled his fist out of a Dominican man culito for a quick second, shook off the...um...butt placenta and used it to fight for her. John thinks he can knock LiLo's coke-craving thetans off her deep fried carcass forever! Oh, please. John just wants somebody to bond with down in the Scientology wig and weave library.

A source tells The National Enquirer (via Entertainmentwise) that LiLo has already signed up for an orientation course at the Scientology Center per John's advice, "Even though producers were hesitant to hire Lindsay because of her troubled past. Travolta assured them he'd take her under his wing. John introduced Lindsay to one of the church's top counselors and – even though she's been cast in a new role and won't play the star's daughter in the flick – she's assured him she'll still attend the series of induction classes that will make her a Scientologist."

Normally, we'd grab onto a trick like Sarah in Cliffhanger if the Scientology volcano tried to suck them in, but is this such a bad idea? Instead of using whatever is left of her money to buy White Oprah vodka enemas, her money would go towards shushing up Tommy Girl's paid boy whores. Not a bad use of money. Instead of getting fed the delusions of a crazy mother, she'd eat the delusions of a crazy alien. And she'd have to cut that crazy mother off. And AND she'd get some much-needed styling advice from Suri Cruise. And and AND there's a good chance she'd bring down the entire Scientology Center after making their strongest e-meter machine explode during her audit. I don't see a problem with this.

Daphne Guinness, the extraterrestrial fairy who is an heir to the Guinness fortune, had a conversation with her friend Camilla Long for The Times of London (via Styleite) and when the name "Posh" came up, poisonous venom started to secrete from the pores on the tip of her tongue. At least that's what The Times of London claims happened. Camilla quoted the Bride of Yeastenstein as saying this about Posh:

“[She is] an ugly pig! Downbeat, miserable and awful. Of course she’s going to make money – she’s backed by Simon Fuller. I don’t have anyone! She annoys the shit out of me.”

Once those booming fightin' words came foaming out of Daphne's mouth, the chandeliers shook and her human shell cracked in half before her natural alien form jumped out and galloped into the countryside to massacre Posh's kind in the pig pen. No, Daphne is now saying that Camilla pushed her words into the cunt grinder to make the article more scandalous. Daphne took to her Twitter to deny away:

I am so sad stitched up by the sunday times. I thought c. long was a friend. I would never call anyone an ugly cow, not my words

I feel like killing myself, I have been stabbed in the back by that journalist

the article was AWFUL, really inaccurate, I work so hard ang this is the kind of shoddy treatment you get. I am beyond hoffified

the journalist I knew from Issie, so i thought she would understand things, we had been friends, she has put words in my mouth

And for the record I not only admire Victoria Beckham but know her and like her. My point was that I do most things alone without a backer.

Damn. Daphne is one of those queens who clutches the velvet curtains (even when there's no velvet curtains to clutch) for steadiness whenever she feels faint, right? Talk about dramatic. Kill herself over this?! If I wanted to eat the suicide bullet every time I called Posh a "pig," I'd always be in my white negligee on the catwalk in West Bev's theater.

And here's the ho Daphne did NOT call a pig aimlessly wandering around the pen the other day.

When the woman at the wrong end of John Galliano's alleged (at the time) anti-Semetic cunt rant told Europe1 that he called her a "dirty Jew face" during a bar fight of words, part of me figured that maybe the booze mixed with his evil villainess accent caused shit to be lost in translation. Maybe he called her a "purdy poo face" and her ear holes translated it differently. But nope, leave it to a camera on a cell phone to pull the wool off of a cunt. The Sun posted a video taken a week before Galliano's latest serenade to Hitler got him suspended from Dior. The video was taken at the same bar in Paris, but this time Galliano goes after two Italian girls and a dude sitting next to him. In case your ears don't want a spoon full of Mel Gibson in the morning, here's what came out of Galliano's mouth in the clip above:

"But I love Hitler. People like you would be dead. Your mothers, your forefathers, would all be fucking gassed. You're ugly.

The man who filmed this says that Galliano was sitting by himself and quickly started throwing in his own comments about their conversation. The man went on to say, "We were stunned by what Galliano was saying, but then he started making vile anti-Semitic comments. His words were disgusting. He made it clear the Italian girls weren't welcome and should go home. This was pure racism."

Galliano can liquefy that defamation suit he was planning on filing and use it as lube, because he's pretty much fucked now. There's already people screaming shit like: "But he's wasted!", "But he's high!", "Put him in rehab, force him to hug a yarmulke and everything will be alright!" Yeah, so it's totally okay that Galliano's idea of a hot night is dressing like "if Eva Braun was an Andrews Sister" to heil Hitler with his tongue out in public. And yeah, I'm sure Hitler would've invited Galliano over for Swastikatinas to gab about fashion, boys and how they can redesign the armband for the modern day Nazi. Hitler would never gas a gay.

And I've never noticed this before, but Galliano's moustache does look like an anorexic version of the Hitler stache.