Katie Price

Katie Price's divorce to cross-dressing MMA fighter Roxy Baby isn't finalized yet, but that hasn't stopped her from lining up her next ex-husband. Kim Kardashian has handed the whoopin' stick to Katie Price and now it's her turn once again to beat at the pile of horse bones dust that is the sanctity of marriage. Katie's rep told The Sun yesterday that her Argentine boy piece Leandro Penna pooped the question into her ears on Friday night. Since Katie will only say no to the questions "Your skin is starting to bubble, do you think you should get out of the tanning bed now?" and "Can we fuck without the cameras just this once?", she said YES! It's a wonderful day for Katie's divorce lawyer (he can put a down payment on that country house now) and Thelma Madine (who obviously makes all of Katie's cotton candy queef wedding dresses). Katie's rep had this to say about her latest engagement:

“It’s true — they are engaged. Leandro proposed to Katie while they were away skiing recently — and she said yes. They told her children but had intended to keep it secret for a while. No wedding arrangements have been made and they are both quite relaxed about that for the time being.”

Leandro designed Katie's ring himself with help from her favorite jeweler. Today is the day where you learn that there's a 6-year-old girl trapped inside of Leandro and Katie's favorite jeweler also designs the rings sold in candy machines outside of The Dollar Tree. This tacky mess looks like a dingle pulled off of Parasite Hilton's ass hairs:

I have a feeling that this is going to last longer than Katie's past marriages. Leandro and Katie both barely speak English and they both have exquisite taste in jewelry. They're meant to be. Oh, what am I saying? This shit isn't going to last. Katie has had ass warts that lasted longer than this marriage will last. I just hope that at the wedding, Harvey Price will continue to be the voice of the people by quoting himself while giving a speech at the reception:

I know I pull that clip out of the vault every other damn week, but it's a gem and gems were made to be appreciated at all times. And it best expresses my thoughts about pretty much everything.

The world is about to find out whether or not it has enough supplies of titty gel, rayon hair, pecan skin varnish, Lamisil cream for vaginas and industrial strength antibiotics for two Katie Prices. Because when Katie Price wet humped with reality TV, a throbbing genital wart grew and out popped 19-year-old Amy Willteron! Amy is the winner(?) of Signed By Katie Price and has won a glamour modeling contract as well as learning everything there is to know about building a multimillion pound empire when you've got the talent of a nipple pimple.

Usually when Katie Price takes someone under her wing, they later fall out with full body syphilis and Agent Fake Tan syndrome. But Amy Willerton is safe, because Katie Price only means it figuratively. Amy is Katie's new protégée and she's set to take the glamour modeling world by storm one camel toe flash at a time.

That's nice and everything, but I'm going to tell Amy the same thing I tell the free clinic nurse when he goes down to my down low bits to find out where the hissing sound is coming from: GOOD LUCK and BEA ARTHUR BLESS! Amy will get a two-page spread in Nuts Magazine, a crawl-on role in Katie's next sex tape and that's it. Amy just doesn't have the no-so-secret secret to Katie Price's success. I'm talking about HARVEY!!!!!!

Harvey is who a four leaf clover goes to when it needs good luck. Harvey can make a broken mirror glue itself together. Harvey is really what you find at the end of a rainbow. Katie Price is nothing (stop right there and that would still be a factual statement) without HARVEY!!!!

I know, this is the saddest holiday-themed Tijuana donkey show (without the donkey) any of us have ever seen.

Charles Dickens ("Did sumbody say dick?" - Katie Price) had a good run as the author of the most classic holiday novel of our time, but there's a new literary genius on the stroll with a new classic holiday novel of our time! Katie Price hauled out the holly and burned up the mistletoe in London today when she came out to promote her new book "Santa Baby" and when asked by reporters what it's about, she looked at the reindeer since he had about as much to do with writing the book as she did.

If the Tivo captions of every soft-core Cinemax porn are at the top of your must-read list, then Katie's book is just for you. I've read two of them and it was like reading the transcript of Courtney Stodden's edition of Hooked on Phonics. Katie likes her novels the same way she likes her men: shallow, hallow and filled with only 12 words from the English vocabulary. So, basically, she's like my literary hero.

And that poor, sad reindeer does know that God gave him antlers so he can poke a bitch, right? Nudge..nudge...

Thank God Katie Price is a lie machine wrapped in silicone wrapped in orange wax strips, because if she was really telling the truth when she said she was going to stop pushing her chirruns in front of the cameras, then our retinas would've never been touched by the rays of sunshine that spun out of Harvey Price's smile at a screening of Lion King 3D in London today. Really, if you put a microscope under a sun's ray, the words "IT'S HAAAAARVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!!" is the only thing you'd see.

Of course, our Earth Angel Harvey wasn't the only Price child there. Katie brought out Princess Teamoyomama, Junior and two of their little friends. That little boy in the blue is posing so damn hard for the cameras you'd think he a 6-year-old me at a Barbizon audition. Boy Blue is Phoebe Price-ing out of his mind, but Harvey's still got this without even trying. Nice try, Boy Blue, but don't quit your day school.

And it was festive of Katie Price to decorate the top of her head in the theme of the day. Bitch's weave looks like it was dragged across the Serengeti under a wildebeest's hoof after three hyenas tried to mate with it in the swamp.

Threatening UK environmental laws with the twelve layers of ozone layer-burning fake tanner grease on her mannequin skin and the non-biodegradable weave on her head, England's second finest rose (after Jodie Marsh, of course) Katie Price put her Day-Glo coochie and roasted ham titty sacks on display at the launch of her magazine in London today. Yes, Katie Price has her own magazine. It's for you hos out there who want to show people at the checkout counter that you're an ambitious reader who is hoping to eventually work your way up to Highlights Magazine. It's also to show hos that you're okay with a reading a magazine that is made of more natural products than the trick it was named after.

Even though Katie looks like a Dollar General plastic doll after a Butterfinger bukkake, I can't completely cover her with shaded hate. I'm saying that because I'm sure that when she got home today, our angel of angels Harvey Price threw that bitch a "Why is this heffa darker than my ass?" look that just lit the air on fire. That is worth the price of everything.

Since this country doesn't have enough homegrown trash covered in stripper glitter and straightened hair ripped out of a yack, we're importing more from the UK! Katie Price is telling The Sun that she's once again going to lube up her body in brown tinted Trex (that's "Crisco" in British talk) and shove herself down America's wide open throat hoping that we don't vomit her up this time. Katie has already signed a deal with FOX to do a reality show where she'll take a Priscilla, Queen of the Desert-like road trip from New York to Los Angeles.

Yes, I'm sure it'll be just like Priscilla....but without the entertainment, talent, hot outfits and the priceless soundtrack. Basically, it's going to be like one of the oil balls that was spat out of Priscilla's exhaust pipe. Katie put sit like this:

"It's taken nearly a year to set this contract up. We're thinking of doing the road trip from New York to Los Angeles. But I want a big Priscilla-style van. You've got to make it fun. The cameras will be inside the van. That's what we're working on at the moment. I'll be in America in September and they're trying to work out what they want to do. I'm not trying to be famous or massive, I'm just doing what I want to do."

"I'm not trying to be famous," said an extremely humble Katie as her legs were wrapped around a spotlight and the room started to smell like burnt labia hair.

I know that most of the UK is praying that Katie's bus will take a wrong turn into a strict Amish compound where they will mistake her for a hochmootich scarecrow riding in a gay steel dragon and burn her at the stake. But I'm keeping it simple and praying that Katie brings HAAAAAAAAAAARVEY (who will obviously be spared by the Amish because he's an angel).

No, this is not a picture of a kaleidoscope penis shaft or a pan fried pork dumpling. It's the picture that Katie Price Tweeted yesterday before taking it down after LeAnn Rimes' attorney sent her a cease and desist claiming that the toilet baby child of Falcor is the only fame whore who can Tweet her bare torso for some quick attention. But the Daily Mail copied the picture and Katie's note before it was pulled down. Basically, Katie went nekkid on Twitter to whore out her friend's juice diet.

"I'm not on diet just trying to be heathly (sic) with good foods and carbs bloat me.

My juice today for breakfast was pineapple, apples, ginger, banana, ginger, orange, mango, natural yoghurt, manuka honey! for lunch roast dinner haha"

That rainbow that just passed across England is from Harvey Price rolling his eyes at this madness and foolery. Juice diet?! More like the SUCK IN DIET, bitch! I'd know that pose from across a darkened room. No, seriously, that's the same pose I see when I look at a mirror in a half-darkened bedroom during fuck times. It takes real skill to suck in your gut while trying to suck in a dick at the same time. Come at me when you can do that, Katie!

Here's Katie trying to bring as much attention to her culo as possible while playing in a polo game with her piece Leandro over the weekend.

That sound you hear, which doesn't sound unlike a Velcro fly on a fat ho slowly coming apart, is Katie Price's titty skin screaming for dear life and trying to hold it together while tons of silicone puts pressure on them. If you didn't think titty skin knows how to pray to GOD, you will now. This picture will make you a believer! Say a silent "peace be with you payer" for Katie Price's titty skin and then slowly move down to her ankle to see her brand new tattoo. There's a reason why tattoo rhymes with poo and the shit on her ankle is that reason! Bitch's tattoo reads "LEO 27-2-11", which is the day she met her 25-year-old Argentinean piece at Elton John's Oscar party.

When you've known someone for all of three months, do you really want to get their name needled into a body part like that? This ho didn't get his last name tattooed too, because she didn't know it at the time. This is just setting yourself up for disaster. But you know, maybe it's not totally a dumb shit move. I mean, when she's got her legs up in the air, she can glance at her ankle to make sure she's calling out the right name. Actually, maybe that's a move of a genius. That might get her into Mensa's slut whore division.

Here's more of Katie being the graceful flower that she is with Harvey's future third stepfather in Marabella, Spain this weekend.

Katie Price is in Argentina visiting the family of her baby-faced boy toy Leandro Penna and the two nearly floated off to the great big reality show in the sky when their Jeep crashed into two runaway horses. The horses died instantly after they smashed through the Jeep's windshield (R.I.P. horsies). Those horses' last image was of a woman who exclusively wears bleached horse manes on her head. A cruel place: the world is.

The paramedics arrived and treated Katie for cuts on her hands and whiplash. Leandro also jacked up his neck like he had just followed Willow Smith's lead a little too literally. The Mirror says that three other passengers in the car, most likely cameramen, walked away uninjured.

A source says that the horses leaped over a fence and jumped in front of the Jeep. Leandro hit the brake hard but it was too late. The source went on to say that if it wasn't for seat belts and Katie's dual chest bags, she would've been killed too. But when Katie spoke to The Mirror, she was more concerned about the horses, “It was absolutely terrifying. It all happened in a flash and I have absolutely no idea how I wasn’t badly injured. I feel so lucky, but more than anything I’m just distraught about the horses. It was so upsetting.”

The cameras were not rolling at the time and Katie's motto is if it doesn't happen on TV, it didn't happen at all. So her reality show's producers have hired actors to dress up in stallion costumes and they will re-enact the whole thing. The shit show must go on!

Meanwhile, this world's angel Harvey Price was safe and sound in the UK with Peter Andre. You can unclench your soul and exhale now.

If this was a game of "Mother, May I?", I'd tell all those paps to take 50 large steps towards Backupthefuckupville. It's not every day that a world-class treasure like Harvey Price glides through LAX, but let the boy inhale some oxygen instead of camera flashes. Damn. But Harvey is a professional so he smiled his golden smile even though most of us are frowning at the pair of angel wings hugging his mom's nipples. Too soon, Katie, too soon.

Katie Price is in this Los Angeles this week to attend the Oscars on Sunday. Because the recession is still a real thing, the Oscar budget has limited the amount of statue stand-ins they can buy this year. Katie Price does have the complexion of a rusty soccer trophy and it's cheaper to fly her in than buy another Oscar, so she'll be a stand-in this Sunday. Remember this when you watch Christian Bale grab onto her ass while giving an acceptance speech.

No, they're all in town because Harvey Price was invited to Elton John's Oscar party and Katie is going to be his +1. And because Harvey knows where the good shit is at.