What A Fucking Lady

Kate Middleton was shoved to the side and a new fashion icon of Britain was declared last night when TOWIE's Lauren Pope floated onto the red carpet at the Breaking Dawn premiere like a pristine panty-less goddess riding the satin crimson wave to sophistication. Lauren Pope became my new religion and I was ready to pray to her tonight while only wearing two pillow cases cinched together with a sweatpants drawstring, but then I came across a ginger flower that bloomed in the German section of the Garden of Stunt Queens. Everything has changed!

Meet actor type Peer Kusmagk and his girlfriend Isabella Recke (wreck is right). Don't ask me, I don't know who they are. Even if somebody tried to explain them to me using penis puppets (you know how my brain perks up at penis puppets), I still wouldn't know who these two are. But it doesn't matter. Everything I need to know about Peer and Isabella they eloquently communicated to me at some event in Berlin last night.

The two photographers there got up close and personal with Isabella's freckled and moly nalgitas every time she or Peer parted her sheer black curtains. You might be thinking that Isabella would've saved herself some time if she just left that dress on her bedroom floor and came to the party wearing only those black chonies. But that would've been tacky and that's something Isabella is not. A certain seductive mystique filled the air when Isabella exposed her ass cheeks the same way a patient lifts up his hospital gown right before getting a suppository from a nurse. This is performance art!! (It was also performance fart when Isabella flexed her ass cheeks a little too much.)

It was a long search, but finally the German Phoebe Price has been found!

If the lady behind you is not preparing her nostrils for the scented current of snatch that is about to blow her way, then you're working the red carpet wrong. This is Lauren Pope, of the British reality mess The Only Way Is Essex, at last night's London premiere of Twatlight: Breaking Hymens, Part 1.

For those refined ladies out there who want to look like their body is luxuriating in expensive glamour but don't have the budget for it, take an economical styling tip from Lauren Pope. Sneak into your local brothel, rip two satin curtain panels from their rods, slap one on each side of your body, cinch it together with a luggage belt around your waist and BAM! Lauren calls it "The Scarlett O'Whorah." You don't even need double-sided tape to keep your dress from flying up and exposing the goods for free. Just do what Lauren did and dab a little of your natural coochie glue on your thigh.

Not wearing panties will tell the world that you've got a resilient pussy that can handle the elements and your labia lips flapping in the night wind will provide a romantic soundtrack. This ensemble is everything. Thank you, Lauren.

Lauren is the only Pope we should be worshiping.

Kate Moss is a seasoned drunk who knows very well that sometimes you can get to a party to find that some rabid disrespectful piles of scab trash have sucked down all the good sweet nectar and have left you to make a cocktail out of melted ice and window cleaner. So Kate always comes prepared just in case disaster should strike, and last night in London she stumbled into the Dazed & Confused (too easy) party at the W Hotel with two human crutches to keep her from spilling her goblet of wine.

Kate was not about to spill one drop. Jodie Marsh could've come by and made the wind barf by flexing, and Kate's hand would've stayed steady and kept the wine in. Pete Doherty could've slithered up from the gutters to make tongue love with Kate's nostrils (how they used to greet each other in the old days) and that glass would stay as stiff as a zombie's dick. Bitch could go through a Wipeout obstacle course and come out with a full glass. Unlike that wrong bitch Kate Winslet in Titanic, Kate Moss is never letting go.

In the glory days, Kate could throw that wine around like nothing, but IN THIS ECONOMY you have to cherish and respect every precious drop. You don't waste that shit. You fight for it, you lie for it, you walk the wire for it, you dieeeee for it.

If forensic laptop scientists studied my keyboard, they'd find that it looks a lot like the inside of Brit Brit's chonies. Covered with crumbs of various Frito-Lay products and fluids that either came out of a body or a Nesquik bottle. They'd also find that my c,u,n and t keys are worn as all hell, because I type the word cunt like it's my job (and it is my job!). It's a beautiful word and brings me almost more natural happiness than hearing the line "all your tests came back negative" does. I believe that every time I type the word cunt, Heather Mills pegs a bitch in the foot. Cunt. Erps, crack goes a bitch's toe nail.

But when I'm out in the real world, I only shoot out the cunt word on special occasions like yesterday when a rude ho cut in front of me in the receipt-checking line at Ikea. However, RiRi is not like me. RiRi uses the cunt word as hard as a sound engineer uses a pair of ear plugs when she sings in the studio. RiRi tells British Vogue (via Holy Moly!) that "cunt" is practically her home country's official word:

"Yeah, it’s funny. That word is so offensive to everyone in the world except for Bajans. You know African-Americans use the n-word to their brothers? Well, that’s the way we use the c-word. When I first came here, I was saying it like it was nothing, like, 'Hey, cunt', until my make-up artist finally had to tell me to stop. I just never know."

I was wondering why when I went to Barbados, the custom official said to me, "Welcome to Barbados, cunt." Either RiRi is a box of dumb who tells lies (more than likely) or she has just become my new hero by saying "Hey, cunt!" to Beyonce at their first meeting together.

And the chronic cunt word thrower also tells Vogue that she just does ho shit for show and that white people think she's some kind of role model:

"That’s not me. That’s a part I play. You know, like it’s a piece of art, with all these toys and textures to play with.

See, people – especially white people – they want me to be a role model just because of the life I lead. The things I say in my songs, they expect it of me and [being a role model] became more of my job than I wanted it to be. But no, I just want to make music. That’s it. Look, God doesn’t give any more than you can handle. I had to get through a lot of ups and downs – big downs – and a lot of trial and error to get where I am now."

That's nice and everything, but I wish RiRi would play the part of a trick who doesn't wear a $3 wig from the Marilyn Monroe costume package at Halloweentown.

LEONARD?!!!!!!!!#*!!!!&1!!6^!!+v!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?

via Leanord Kravitz's Twitter (Thanks Angela!)

There definitely is a more creative and wittier headline out there (and it isn't coming from me), but that's the first thing I said out loud when I brought up these gorgeous portraits from the gutter. Then I went to pee (which stung, by the way, and I blame these pictures), sat back down and thought the same thing again. I was about to type "Look At What The Cat Dragged In," but that would've been factually incorrect on every level. I know some dirty skanky alley cats who consider a pigeon's anus as a meal and even they wouldn't put their mouths on either one of these bumbling busted bitches. It's like Courtney Stodden took her Dorian Gray portrait out for a 40. You decide which is which.

If you were in the Meatpacking District in Manhattan last night and were wondering why flies riding roaches riding rats were galloping through the streets in hoards headed uptown, it's because the living embodiment of Grey Gardens for the crack whore set came out to party. Just a mess. Lindsay Lohan looks like she's a shot away from spiraling into a drunk coma right there on the street while dumb-eyed White Oprah is too blinded by the fame to care.

LiLo: Um. Mom? The tequila went straight to my legs and turned them into worms. I'm just going to go mimi times on these strange looking tiny grey pillows.
White Oprah: HOLD ON TO YOUR 8-BALLS, BOYS! BAM! YES! BOOM!
LiLo: No, seriously, why is that man in a black hood carrying that thing the Grim Reaper carries winking at me?
White Oprah: THE NAAAAAAME ON EVERYBODY'S LIPS IS GONNA BE...WHITE OPRAH!
LiLo: Where am I? I see a bright light.
White Oprah: IT'S THE CAMERAS, BABY! FLASHING FOR ME...I MEAN...US. SPARKLE, KITTEN, SPARKLE!"

Seriously, White Oprah is Lucifer in Chinese Laundry heels.

That being said, White Oprah has never looked hotter. Well, her look is very "tired Regan-era call girl who got demoted to the morning shift but still shows up to the hotel bar at 8pm on Saturday night like she's prime shit."

And LiLo might look like she's about to pass out, but apparently she got some energy when she got inside the V Magazine party at The Boom Boom Room. This happened:

@womensweardaily Women's Wear Daily
Lindsay Lohan just threw a full drink at a boy at V magazine party who dared to snap her pic. #NYFW
11 hours ago via web

The boy was a photographer for V Magazine who added this (via ONTD):

@JasperRischen Jasper Rischen
Wow. Lindsay Lohan is as trashy as they always say. She threw drinks and glasses to me as we tried to take a shot for @vmagazine. C.u.n.t.
11 hours ago via Twitter for BlackBerry®

And then this happened:

@Styleite Styleite
And now people are bleeding at the @vmagazine party. Not sure what's going on, but it's at Lindsay Lohan's table.
10 hours ago via Twitter for iPhone

To clarify: girl left in an ambulance but looked OK. FDNY were calm, took their time. Didn't look like a suicide attempt, just an accident.
9 hours ago via Twitter for iPhone

Yup, still got it!

Welcome to another slow ass Monday where absolutely nothing is going on and I'm refreshing every damn gossip site while praying for another riveting story about Brit Brit's Cheeto farts or for another obviously Photoshopped picture of (NSFW) Jason Stackhouse's crooked boomerang dick. But good things do happen when shit is slower than a snail's cum shot. It gives us the time to pay tribute to the real stars in the world!

For the second time in 5 days, I present to you American fashion icon and walking acid trip Angelyne showing the pussy meat flashing sluts of L.A. how a true lady gets out of a car. Angelyne is not about to let anybody get a free rave show from gazing at her glow stick clit.

Thank you to the celebwhores for keeping the fuckery to a minimum today, so we can give the trash heap love child of Greta Gremlin and a human Ecstasy tab the attention she deserves.

Tami "It Wasn't Not Funny" Roman strikes again. On last night's Basketball Wives, Meeka and Tami both crawled into the ring at a club in Rome to battle it out after the former talked shit about the latter to Slow Suzie (the trick in the middle). Anybody who has seen 10 seconds of Tami in all her reality show glory should know not to turn your eyes away from her during a fight or she will give you a surprise in the form of a palm to the damn face. BITCH GOT PALMED! Tami patty caked Meeka right in the face and let that bitch's nostrils know whether or not she washed her hands after wiping her ass. Tami stop in the name of love-ed that bitch!

Even Suzie, who is always operating on a 10-second delay, closed her eyes real quick and prayed that she also wouldn't be stumbling back to the hotel with Tami's palm print on her face. It's a good thing that greasy ass Meeka's face pores naturally secrete Vaseline or else she would've had Tami's palm print on her face. Meeka's face is always prepared for a brawl.

If you need to see the violent face palm felt around Rome in action, here you go:

What would Bethasaurus say about this mess?

via Crunk + Disorderly

Nothing comes between a HONGRAY granny and her morning bacon, not even 9 year old little kids!! The Smoking Gun reports that Marilee Ann Kolynych caught a case of the NOT THE ONE when her 9 year old grandson "ate too much bacon at breakfast" and had to open up an Ensure sponsored can of WHOOP ASS!!

According to the Clifton Heights Police Department, Kolynych chased the boy out in to the yard, tackled his ass to the ground and sat on him while spraying a water hose in his face. Bitch don't play. The boy finally broke loose of memaw's claws of death, ran across the street to a neighbor's house and called his mother.... WHO WAS IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT OF THE MEMAW'S HOUSE!!! Granny is free on bail awaiting a July 7th hearing.

You know, when I was kid my memaw would make me go "fetch a switch" from a tree so she could beat my ass with it. Deciding whether to get a thin branch or a thick branch was the torture. A thick branch is a total BEAT. DOWN. and a thin branch sliced through your ass like buttah... I think I would have rather had the hose!!!!

As I lovingly bubble-wrap my nicknacks in preparation for my new job with the Delaware County Sheriff's Office, in Delaware, OH, let me (COINCIDENCE ONLY!) bring you the local news of a beauty queen and klassy bitch DONE WRONG!

WBNS-10TV reports that "BoobMeister" Stephanie Robinette, 30, of Westerville, lost that loving feeling while beating her husband's ass at a wedding over the weekend held at Bridgewater Banquet & Conference Center.

Delaware County Sheriff Walter L. Davis III said deputies tried to talk with the woman but bitch refused.

"When deputies attempted to remove Robinette from the vehicle, she advised the deputies that she was a breast feeding mother and proceeded to remove her right breast from her dress and began spraying deputies and the vehicle with her breast milk," Davis said.

The deputies were eventually able to restrain the loving mother and feeder of MILLIONS before carting her ass off to the pokey.

Robinette was quoted as saying she takes the charges seriously and has vowed to get help... Obviously, the policies and procedures of the Delaware Sheriff's Dept. need a little updating on what is acceptable social behavior!! Please allow me to introduce myself!!!