Crazy

Joseph Sciambra is a former "gay porn star" and I put that in quotes, because I'd like to think I've seen a lot of gay porn and I've never seen Joseph Sciambra before. I guess he'd have to bend over and wiggle his stitched up sphincter for me to recognize him. Joseph used to be a butt sex-loving porn star and his ass canal was a birthing slide for demon entities, but now he's a Christian and speaks out against the dark-sidedness of ass sex on his website (which is a treasure in itself).

While sitting in what looks like the gift shop at The Holy Land Experience, Joseph tells us that butt holes were not designed to eat penises (Side note to Joseph: Try telling that to my b-hole.) and he believe he birthed out a demon through his ass. I don't think that was a demon. I think it was a lube-covered raisin, which looks and smells like a sadistic demon, so it's an easy mistake. Stuart Smalley's fashion icon then says that butt birthing out Rosemary's baby's twin fucked up his anus so bad that he had to get his sphincter stitched shut.

I know some of you are probably thinking that the doctor should've stitched up the sphincter on his face instead of the sphincter on his ass, but I disagree. Some of what comes out of his mouth is gold:

"Jenna Jameson never did anal onscreen."

"Anal sex creates a doorway into the demonic supernatural."

"Anal has become the first kiss." 

I just want to buy a bunch of sphincter-shaped pillows and stitch (pun intended) those phrases onto every single one of them. And this does explain why every time I get ready to have butt sex, my piece hisses in horror, throws holy water at my ass and makes the sign of the cross while running out the door.

via Towleroad

Look who's putting the "ho" in ho ho ho and the "mess" in Christmas! Yes, you can all thank me later for burning this exquisite and breathtaking image into your memory banks, and I know you won't hate me more when I point out that from the looks of Courtney Stodden's ass, Santa jizzes Dollar Store spray snow. I know we were all wondering, and you're welcome.

As a special holiday gift for us all, Courtneys mom wraps up some words of wisdom in a garish hot pink box with an oversized silver bow (she can't afford gold), and she doesn't sound at all like a delusional mess who's been downing Adderall and eggnog cocktails with her daughter (yes, she does). In an article on Huffington post, Courtney's mom, who does NOT have it going on, explains to us that her daughter is a timeless beauty, a victim of gorgeousness, and that she's HERE TO STAY. That sound you hear is not a hurricane, it's the collective exhale from every living creature on the planet in the knowledge that we can look forward to Slutty Santa, Easy Easter Bunny, Pussy Popping Patriot and Temptress Turkey for years to come. Yaaaaay.

“Courtney is the new Anna Nicole Smith, without the drugs. Everyone wants to be like Marilyn Monroe, but with Courtney the beauty comes from within -- like Pam Anderson and Farrah Fawcett.”

Me: Marilyn Monroe? Farrah Fawcett?? Jenna Jameson, MAYBE.

“It won't be 15 minutes of fame because it's an evergreen story. Courtney is so intriguing; she’s almost an addiction for people. Her light shines. When she walks into an event, it's incredible, as her mom and manager, to watch the reaction from people. There are so many horrible things we read, but when people meet her in person is so rewarding."

Me: It's kind of hard to ignore a barely legal bitch with her bits hanging out and her toes hanging over the end of her 12-inch lucite heels.

“She’s a victim of her own beauty. We need to understand all kinds of discrimination. It’s very sad.”

There is so much wrong with that last part, and I can't even see right now to comment because my eyes are rolling like a slot machine.

During my first couple of weeks of preschool, I was a nightmare of a cunt child and I made it clear that I didn't want to be there. I threw my shoes at walls and tried to escape whenever I had a chance. Eventually, the teachers refused to let me wear shoes and made me sit in the middle of them during story and nap time so I wouldn't quit that bitch and run for the door. They should've had me arrested, honestly. My mom moved me to another preschool and then I was fine. (Note: My new-preschool had a giant Hot Dog and a giant Cinderella pumpkin in the playground, so I'm guessing that had something to do with why I suddenly decided to calm the shit down. Or my mom snuck weed in my morning peaches & cream oatmeal.) Anyway, Katt Williams should be put in a prison cell crib for continuing to spread the fuckery, but in the meantime they should take his shoes away and force him to sit between two preschool teachers at all times.

Katt has done a whole lot of foolish shit, including slapping a Target employee, during the past few weeks and you can add another one to the list. TMZ says that an audience member at Katt's show in Seattle two Fridays ago has filed a $250,000 lawsuit against him for whipping him in the head with a mic. In the video, the angry leprechaun gets mad at Carlos Casto-Lin for recording his show. Katt sashays up to Carlos and says, "It could happen to you. Record me and see what happens to you. Go home and get your raggedy pistol and bring it back. I already got mine" before bopping him in the head with the mic. Carlos says he suffered a concussion and he won't ever be able to calmly sit in the same room as a troll doll without fearing for his life.

The only thing that really surprises me about the video is that Katt was able to whoop that trick on the head with a mic. How was he able to do that? I didn't see an assistant put a stepladder in front of Katt. I didn't hear Katt ask for a lift. How did little ass Katt reach that dude's head? Katt is magic! Yes, Katt uses his powers for evil, but he's still magic.

Being the responsible and sane parents that they are, Eddie Cibrian and Brandi Glanville continued to throw hate at each other in the media yesterday. It all started when Brandi told UsWeekly that LeAnn Rimes is a laxative-loving crazy bitch who puts her children in danger and that Eddie never returns her e-mails. Then Eddie responded by giving Radar an e-mail he supposedly sent to Brandi. The e-mail only makes sense if you picture Eddie transcribing it as LeAnn shouts the words while waving three $100 bills at his face. Here's Eddie's letter and yes, I felt like he was personally kneeing me in the taint when he typed "wine and narcissism" like it's a bad thing!

"I know your life exists solely for the purpose of living and creating drama. It's a sad way to live. It's so obvious that you have to constantly mention my wife so people will care what comes out of your mouth. One day when wine and narcissism are not consuming you, you will realize how fortunate the kids are to have LeAnn in their life. She is amazing with them, as the kids will 100 percent attest to. You should be so lucky to one day find someone who will love and respect Mason and Jake as she does. Although, I really don't know how anyone can put up with your constant bullshit. No wonder you have lost so many 'close' friends. Grow up already and for once, PUT THE KIDS FIRST!"

Since Brandi has nothing to do all day but yell at semi-human mannequins in front of Bravo's cameras, she immediately ate one of LeAnn's candy laxatives, turned around and fired another shit bomb at Eddie. Brandi went on Twitter and told Eddie to grow a pair of huevos. Brandi also said that LeAnn is addicted to Adderall and drinks like a fish. Again, why do whores keep kneeing me in that taint like that? Drinking like a fish is a bad thing?! Brandi has since deleted all those tweets and said that she's going to stop tweeting about Eddie and LeAnn for now.

Brandi is fueled by the crazy, but LeAnn is crazier. Case in point: A few weeks ago, I spent about 6 minutes with my cousin's kids and during those 6 minutes, one ate most of my pumpkin brownie, the other one slapped my forehead and the third one took my iPhone out of my hand without asking. It was like a moment with Lindsay Lohan. They did all of this while some annoying Nickelodeon cartoon played in the background. I had to change the channel from HGTV to Nickelodeon for them! Kids are thieves and laugh when they physically assault you! You can't even call the cops on them. They are above the law. So why would anyone fight over kids that don't legally belong to them?

One of Brandi's kids even stole one of LeAnn Rimes' laxatives out of her purse. You'd think that's where LeAnn would draw the line. When you mess with her precious poop pills, you mess with her emotions. But no, LeAnn still wants to spend quality time with them. Crazy ass bitch.

Brandi Glanville's anal glands nearly popped off of her ass last week when LeAnn Rimes called her son "her boys" on Twitter. Just like me every time I catch my dog playing with the Care Bear stuffed animal I accidentally left on the floor, Brandi screamed at LeAnn, "MINE! MINE! IT'S MINE! MINE! MINE! NOT YOURS! MINES!" This happened last Friday. Brandi still isn't over it (and has a book to sell), so she continued to yank at Falcor's ears in interviews with HuffPo and UsWeekly. Brandi thinks that LeAnn's wrangler should consider putting her down, because she's certifiably insane and rabid horses are dangerous! Brandi says that she only spews her family drama out on Twitter, because it's the only way Eddie Cibrian will respond to her. This is what Brandi said about LeAnn to HuffPo:

“She uses my kids as weapons. The problem with that is she endangers them while doing so. I think she is a sociopath. She constantly uses my kids as weapons and puts them in danger. She needs major help -- no way Eddie puts up with this for too much longer.”

Brandi got even more into it with UsWeekly. Brandi claims that LeAnn has an eating disorder, is addicted to shitting and it's only a matter of time before one of her sons ends up in the emergency room because of their evil stepmother. Brandi brought up the time her son ate one of LeAnn's laxatives thinking it was a Skittle.

"I know that my kids love her, and I know that she's upset. I, unfortunately, don't find her to be stable and I don't want her around my kids when Eddie's not there -- or at least the nanny, his parents, someone. Mason, my eldest, ate some of Le's candies and got extremely ill. And Le's candies are laxatives. It was a big fucking deal for me, and I lost my mind. Mason told me about it, and then Eddie's assistant, who was working for me at the time, also told me about it out of concern for my children. I emailed, emailed, called, called -- no answers. Couldn't even discuss it. He refuses to even be in the same room as me. He can't have a parent-teacher conference if I'm there. I don't know how to do this when I can't talk to the father of my children and his new wife. I don't know what to do.

LeAnn has a severe eating disorder. She has [a laxative] in every purse. Mason found one on the floor and thought it was a Skittle! They don't keep sugar in the house. He thought he finally found candy! He gets extremely sick, and that freaks me the fuck out."

Brandi also brought up another time that LeAnn Rimes tweeted a video of her son Jake riding his bike without a helmet down a really busy street:

"She posted this video -- we've been going back and forth and fighting with lawyers about the kids being in the background on the show that we film. I don't even want them to be in the forefront. I just want them to be around me when I have them, [so] if they're in the background running around I don't need to shuffle them out with a babysitter. . . I just thought it was very hypocritical of LeAnn to post this video, which I didn't actually see until [days later] . . . To be honest, I choose not to look because it does upset me. So at this point, one of my friends emailed it to me and said,'You really want to see this,' because my friend knew about the laxative situation. And I see Jakey, my 5-year-old, on a bike on Roundmeadow Road -- a very busy road where drunk drivers have crashed into their house. . . He doesn't have a helmet on and he's driving without his training wheels, which he doesn't even do at my house. He still wears them at my house, and he's alone with her. She's behind him and I know that he's having fun. I'm sure it was great and I know that he loves her, but they don't realize that they're in danger. They don't. And no one's getting back to me about anything that's going on. So I'm forced to take it to the public on Twitter. And then when people say, 'Come on. Get over it.' How do you get over it? These are my children. I will never be over my children. I'm not just going to say, 'Well, fuck it.' . . . These are my children and I don't want this unstable person around them when she's alone.

I want my kids all the time, but I don't want to keep them from their father because their father loves them dearly, but I think he's kind of blinded by this woman. I don't think he sees clearly. I think he thinks that she pretends to be something that she's not for him. I think around him, she plays his perfect [wife]. And he doesn't realize that she's using our children and putting them in danger. And using them as a tool to get to me, and not just being a loving parent."

Brandi doesn't want to get the lawyers involved, because she can't afford one right now and wants to save money to buy a house.

Okay, so Brandi thinks that if her kids spend more alone time with LeAnn Rimes, they will eventually get hit by a car or shit out all of their internal organs from eating LeAnn's entire supply of poop candy? And Brandi doesn't want to go to court to try put a stop to LeAnn's irresponsible craziness? That makes sense! Why tell all those stories to a judge when you can tell them to UsWeekly for a check instead?

Olivier Martinez, Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubry should send Eddie, LeAnn and Brandi a thank you note for ALMOST making them look sane and functional by comparison. And if LeAnn is wondering why Giuliana Rancic keeps hanging around her stable door, it's because Giuliana heard that she's addicted to shitting.

Katt Williams is the new Zsa Zsa Gabor and a Target cashier is the new Beverly Hills policeman.

Katt Williams' crazy ass put the YOLO in Yolo County last Sunday when he smacked a Target employee. Right before he Katt slapped a dude, Katt Williams escaped arrest after leading police on a bizarre and hilarious three-wheeled motorcycle chase through the streets of Sacramento, CA. Katt shook the police off his tail and drove his three-wheeled motorcycle to Target. Surveillance footage, which was just released, shows Katt sashaying up to a Target employee and the two had words before he left his paw print all over that dude's face. The Target employee picked up his phone and called the police. TMZ doesn't know what the brawl of words was about, but I'm guessing Target was all out of red velvet leche and Katt wasn't happy about it.

Katt wasn't going to wait around to be arrested, so six seconds after the Target employee called 911, he jumped on an electric cart and rode on out of that bitch. This clip is some Monty Python-type buffoonery:

A mess. It's only a matter of time before somebody sets that clip to Jay-Z's "Ride Or Die." Once Katt drove that electric cart out of the store, he ditched it and jumped on his getaway motorcycle. Katt was never arrested or charged with anything, but the Yolo County District Attorney's office tells TMZ that they are investigating the slap down.

Katt led police on a low-speed chase, slapped a Target employee and escaped on a grandpa scooter. It was just another Sunday for the crackhead Hobbit. I was about to say that you know the bad shit has screwed your brain up bad when you think a Hoveround makes a good escape vehicle, but I can't say that. I mean, Katt did get away, didn't he?

When designing her men's fashion line for Opening Ceremony, Yoko Ono obviously found inspiration from style icons Regina George, Michael Lohan and Bruno. If you've got a couple thousand dollars available on your credit card and really want to look like a mental patient in The Fifth Element world (or like a visual representation of Tilda Swinton's thought process), jump over to Opening Ceremony and go crazy.

Yoko Onoshedidnt (I hate myself for typing that) tells Opening Ceremony that in 1969, she sketched a men's fashion line for John Lennon. Yoko wanted to "celebrate John's hot bod" and gave him the sketches as a wedding present. I bet John flipped through all those sketches and secretly wished that he would come across a sketch of a gift receipt so he could return all that shit. 43 years after Yoko gave John the worst wedding gift ever, Opening Ceremony has helped her to bring those sketches to life.

For just $250, you can get a bandeau tube top with light bulbs nipples. I know that top is TOO masculine for some of you ladies, but if you're currently breastfeeding and want to confuse (or shock) the shit out of your baby, wear this. For just $75, you can get a hoodie that Yoko Ono calls the "butt hoodie," but to me it looks more like something that would flop on your forehead during teabag night at the Lemon Party Strip Club. For just $400, you can get a "Ring For Your Mommy" bell board. All of these clothes make me want to ring for my mommy, so that's the one thing I'd buy. There's also a jock strap with LED lights on the peen part and pants that look like they're giving you a prostate exam and a nutsack cancer check.

Yoko Ono is a new kind of crazy, but we already knew that. And the Church of Scientology just found their new staff uniforms.

Halle Berry and Olivier Martinez both have restraining orders against Gabriel Aubry, and yesterday he got his own restraining order against the French boxer who whooped the hot right out of his face. Gabriel gave these pictures of his post-Thanksgiving beat down face to the court and I'll never understand why the authorities didn't immediately run out and arrest Olivier for crimes against beauty. Gabriel looks like James Cromwell did experiments on him in the American Horror Story lab. Gabriel's got the crazy running through each and every one of his veins, but he went from looking like a thing of natural beauty to looking like Chloe Sevigny's AHS character with a beard on.

TMZ says that Olivier told the police on Thanksgiving morning that Gabriel came at him, but Gabriel says it was the other way around. In his declaration to the courts, Gabriel says that on the night before Thanksgiving, they were all at Nahla's school to see her play and Olivier came up to him and whispered in his ear in French, "I wish I could beat the shit out of you right now. You're lucky we're in a school right now. We're going to take Nahla right now and you're not going to follow us." Then Olivier ate 5 dozen eggs, bench pressed 3 blondes and won a spitting match. Bitch thinks he's Gaston or some shit.

Gabriel says that the next day, he took Nahla to Halle's house and usually the nanny greets them at the door, but this time it was Olivier. Olivier told Gabriel they needed to talk, but he wasn't having it so he turned around to walk back to his car. Gabriel says that's when Olivier jumped off the stairs, knocked him to the ground and started slamming his head into the concrete. Olivier kept screaming about how Gabriel cost him $3 million. I guess $3 million is what Olivier paid the lawyers to try to get Nahla to France.

When Olivier finished beating the French and the Canadian out of Gabriel, he told Gabriel to move to France or he'd kill him. Olivier also told Gabriel that the police were coming and he better tell them he started the fight or else. The "else" is code for "You be dead." Gabriel never told the police about the threats and Halle's "sources" still say he's the one who started the brawl.

Gabriel will also go to court today to try to get the judge to lift the restraining order that's keeping him from going anywhere near his daughter.

The moral of this story is: If you find yourself falling in love with Halle Berry and she's falling in love with your ass, save yourself the drama, visits to family court and punches to the face by checking yourself into the nearest mental hospital. Because if you want to be with Halle Berry, then you are beyond insane. This is what happens to your face on Halle Berry!

Halle Berry's lawyers will be in court tomorrow or Tuesday to ask the judge to restrain Gabriel Aubry's ass indefinitely. After the Thanksgiving morning beat down between Halle's ex piece and her current piece put both of their dumb asses in the emergency room, a judge issued a temporary restraining order against Gabriel, which means he's not allowed to go anywhere near Halle, Olivier Martinez and his 4-year-old daughter Nahla. The restraining order expires on Tuesday. Halle now wants to make that restraining order more permanent. If the judge grants it, he should go ahead and wrap that restraining order and put a bow on it. Because the greatest Christmas gift Halle could ever get is the right to say, "HAHA! Got you, bitch!" to Gabriel Aubry.

TMZ says that Halle's lawyers will argue that Gabriel started the tussle with Olivier Martinez and did it right in front of his own daughter. Halle's lawyers will say that Gabriel is a tall drink of RAGE and he obviously can't stop himself from Hulk-ing the fuck out in front an innocent child. Halle's lawyers have argued before that Gabriel can't control his temper and is a danger to Nahla.

There's pictures of Gabriel Aubry's beaten face at TMZ, and damn, Olivier punched the hot right of him. Olivier really did fuck with Gabriel's money by going for the face. And as the pictures below show, Olivier walked away from that fight with only a few bruises on his whoopin' hand.

Gabriel Aubry is dead wrong for coming at a French dude who is supposedly a trained boxer. Olivier Martinez is dead wrong for sticking his nose into some shit that doesn't have anything to do with him and he's dead wrong for going crazy on Gabriel. Halle Berry is dead wrong, because she's always thinking of Halle and is using Nahla as a pawn against Gabriel. They're all dead wrong and they're all crazy bitches.

The judge should issue three restraining orders on Nahla's behalf tomorrow: one against Gabriel, one against Olivier and one against Halle. Just give temporary custody of Nahla to a stuffed Simba toy, because it will do a better job of keeping her safe and sane.

Five days ago, 250 fans and media people got on a Boeing 777 for a 7-day journey to see the wailing 7-head perform 7 shows in 7 cities and now they're all 7 seconds away from completely losing their minds 7 different ways.

It all started in Los Angeles last Wednesday and they all thought it was going to be a non-stop party, because a few minutes into the flight from L.A. to Mexico City, RiRi came through the aisles with free bottles of champagne. RiRi posed for pictures, poured them the carbonated sweet nectar and promised they were going to party their dicks off. From Mexico City they flew to Toronto and then Stockholm, and by the time they left Sweden for Paris, they were all pretty much over it. They're permanently jet-lagged, they never see RiRi and she starts her shows almost 2 hours late every night.  Julianne Smolinski at Popdust put it like this:

For those of you who don’t understand why being on a plane with Rihanna for five days might not be so bad:

1) Okay, you have a point. We’re very lucky to be here and to have jobs to do. Just being employed and invited to hear music and eat free sandwiches for a week is a privilege, and I think most of the fans and journalists aboard felt that way for the first part of the trip.

2) That being said … Picture the last time you were delayed at an airport for several hours. Now picture that happening several times in one day, with no ability to make calls, text, or use the internet. Sometimes you aren’t sure of the next time you’ll be able to use a bathroom, get water, or eat. Now picture that happening for five days in a row, all while you’re supposed to be doing your job remotely. Now picture that, with a steady soundtrack of European house music.

3) Also picture that Rihanna is supposed to be on your plane, and she is barely present until she shows up on stage, hours late.

In other words: BITCHES ARE GOING CRAZY!

I bet that plane smells like armpit butter, old meat, curdled milk, dirty tampons, whiskey-infused barf and seven kinds of dick cheese. So basically it smells like RiRi's perfume and the stankness is making them all mad. In the video above, an Australian shock jock runs naked as they all chant while flying from Berlin to London. Fuse's Jason Newman said they were all declaring mutiny against RiRi.

They still have to get through RiRi's show in London tonight and then they fly to their last city NYC tomorrow morning. I'm thinking that somewhere between London and NYC, a few journalists will be eaten and then they'll take RiRi hostage and threaten to smoke all her weed unless they land the plane in the nearest city with a working shower and WiFi.

Or their plane will have to make an emergency crash landing on a deserted island and they'll be stuck with RiRi forever!

If you need more laughs from this nightmare of a sky trip, spend some time with #rihannaplane on Twitter. It's a mess. And here's RiRi at her show in Berlin, at the airport in Germany and in London this morning.