Fug

Congratulations. You don't need to do any cardio today, because I'm sure that as you scrolled down you burned calories from your eyeballs getting bigger, bigger and bigger before landing on the whorrifying image of Kim Kartrashian's hips and crotch looking like a bag of marshmallows blowing up in a microwave set to high. 911 operators in Miami were flooded with calls yesterday from terrified citizens who spotted a giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Whore terrorizing the beaches. "I think it just ate a seagull with its ass!" is probably what one citizen will scream on a 911 tape that TMZ will post any minute now I'm sure.

While shooting scenes for Kim & Kourtney Infect Miami, Kim and the slow one made the innocent children scream themselves into old age by stepping outside yesterday. It's a good thing for Kim that her insides are filled with nothing but the coagulated blood of Lucifer, silicone, enough NBA jizz to start her own dream team and bronzer, because if she had human bones, that gold belt would've cracked one of her ribs in two.

I swear, Kanye West must be the Secretary of Defense for the Illuminati, because he's slowly destroying the eyeballs of humanity by turning Kim into a fugly-dressed missile of destruction.

The Creative Emmy Awards (aka The Your Shit Isn't Good Enough For The Emmys That Shows On TV ceremony) was held in the employees break room at the Staples Center in L.A. yesterday and Christina Hendricks landed on the red carpet looking like this. I'm guessing Christina is saving the panty creaming theatrics for the REAL Emmys next Sunday, but still, how does this happen? For some reason, this dreadful look reminds me of when my 12-year-old self used to wrap Christmas presents with bed sheets and bows made of pillow cases. I don't know if bitch fell into the curtains or the curtains fell into her.

Where are the chichis?! Whenever Christina comes out wearing a low-cut neckline with her chichis pouring out like thick white clouds of ethereal mist rising above Mt. Olympus, some hating whores always have to say shit like, "Ugh! She always has to show her tits! We know she has tits! Why does she always have to remind us she has tits?" Shut your mouth on a training bra, bitch. We need to be reminded. Remind us, Christina! Remind us, Christina! It's like we've all seen a beautiful sunset a million times and yet whenever there's a beautiful sunset before us, we take a picture of it with our iPhone, upload that picture to Instagram and then refresh a million times waiting for our friends to say, "OMG what a beautiful sunset!"

Christina's chichis are like a beautiful sunset. They never get old, they're a work of natural art and they're best viewed while eating cheeses and sipping table wine on a picnic blanket with our friends.

And speaking of shit that didn't need to happen last night. Jeremy Davies won a Best Guest Actor in a Drama Emmy for the acting stuff he did on Justified, and he collected his trophy with this on his head:

That hair is only okay if you're Dominic from The Real World: Los Angeles or a guinea pig who just got gang banged in a tornado.

Here's the others who showed up to last night's Emmys Stepchild Awards: Juna from The Comeback, Nick Offerman with Megan Mullally, Padma Lakshmi, Dot Jones, DJ Tanner, Margaret Cho, Melissa McCarthy (looking like a Mennonite bridesmaid), Brenda Strong and Neil Patrick Harris with his hags.

Becoming Mrs. Chad Kroeger has truly opened up Avril Lavigne's petals and brought out her inner grace and beauty. At her Abbey Dawn show at New York Fashion Week (Words that should never be put together ever: Abbey Dawn at NY Fashion Week) yesterday, Canada's answer to Grace Kelly took her bow on the catwalk and had everybody there wishing they looked like Skillrex after getting mauled in the face by a My Little Pony zombie.

Who wouldn't want to look like a human watermelon Jolly Rancher stuck in a ratty, blond weave? Who wouldn't want to smear dark grey make-up all over their eyes until their eyes looked like two horse vaginas? Who wouldn't want to stick metal studs in their hair so it looks like the Tin Man busted one on them? We all would and if you're hating on Avril, it's just because you're jealous that you didn't come up with this horrifically tragic look first.

And I guess Avril got custody of the Jenner girls in her break-up from Brody, because one of Pimp Mama Kris' hos walked in her show yesterday.

SOMEONE is in serious need of a gay in their life. Here is the original Lindsay Lohan (sans the criminal record that reads like the Iliad) Tara Reid, moon-walking the WRONG way through Paris with a mystery man on her arm and a severe case of WHAT. The. Fucking. Fuck. on her feet. What is going on there exactly? Is that duct tape?

Those fUGGs look like the Terminator had sex with my third grade galoshes, and that is some sick shit that I don't want to think about ever again. I don't know whether to re-attach my car bumper with them (it's a rural southern US thing, shut it) or wrap them around a baking potato. NO. I'm so messed up by her dire shoe situation I can't even bother caring about who the new trick is. Okay, you're right, I wouldn't have cared anyway, but my point is that shit is distracting.

Other than the Dollar Store dented Tin Can rejects, I have to say Tara is looking pretty decent-ish here. Of course, I'm using her St. Tropez visit a couple of weeks ago as a yard stick so, basically I mean she's standing erect and not looking like Beer Bloat Barbie.

She needs a couple of buckets of KFC and a six pack of Guiness Extra Stout ("A 6 pack? Of what, cases? What the hell are you talking about?" - Tara), but other that that she looks sober and happy. I kind of have a soft spot for her. Us drunk hoochies have to stick together, you know.

Jessica Biel has said in interviews that before she leaves the house, Justin Timberlake swishes into the room, puts his hand under his chin, sticks his pinky finger out and gives her the Suri look over to make sure she's keeping it cute. Well, the next time Justin tries to style her ass, she needs to tell him to suck on a dirty butt plug, because he's doing her wrong. Jessica wore this mess to the Total Recall premiere in L.A. last night and I'm guessing she wanted her to look to match the reviews. The whole thing is a rotten mess. This is what it would look like if someone barfed up Pepto-Bismol into a costume jooree box full of twisted pearl and rhinestone necklaces.

1. The face is just one color. Isn't there a Rite-Aid on Hollywood Blvd. where Jessica could've bought some hot pink Wet 'n Wild lip gloss or something?

2. The necklace is scraping three layers off of of my OCD nerve, because I just want to spend the rest of the day untangling it.

3. THAT DRESS. Does bitch need that many pockets? Bitch is just going to a premiere, she's not running away from home. The only good parts on that dress are the tititty pockets. I love a good titty pocket. It's the best place for you to stuff a Capri Sun pouch in, so you can sip up fruity deliciousness while keeping your hands free.

Jessica could've made herself look hotter, though, by standing next to Kate Beckinsale. Who ever told Kate that it's okay to skin an alien lizard from V in the name of fashion IS wrong.

Here's more pictures from last night's premiere, which brought out Jessica, Kate, Kate's husband Len (who directed that mess), Colin Farrell and Colin's sister.

Angie Jolie must've been in a for real hurry to get to the Sarajevo from the Maleficent set in England, because ho didn't even change out of her costume. Angie is in Sarajevo with some of the child army to attend its film festival, but she looks more like she's there to drop a double, double toil and trouble spell on the city. Angie is a black pointy hat and a broomstick away from looking like Mrs. Roper going to a seance. Maybe she wore that black tarp of a dress so she can hide some orphans up in there and smuggle them out of the country easily?

The rest of my thoughts about Angie's look are best expressed through Shiloh's "Why did she have to wear the mournin' muumuu and Easy Spirit wedges again?" face.

England's finest rose is a beacon of understated elegance from her "Raggedy Ann after a $2 blowout" weave to her Spalding-made titty balls to her Bad-era Michael Jackson tattoo and all the way down to her graceful hooves. And Jodie Marsh's precious feet only deserve the best, which is why she slipped them into a pair of exquisitely crafted heels that are so delicate they make Cinderella's lucite slippers look like some knock-off CROCs from Payless. Don't let anybody tell you that you can't achieve high levels of luxury with a hot glue gun, a can of gold spray paint, a couple of dead crows, a string of black Cheerios anal beads and some shit you stole from a 5th grader's diorama project on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

But seriously, what is that dark-sided shit on Jodie's feets? Those aren't shoes, they're a traveling black magic witch ceremony. I see those chicken feet voodoo dolls. Everyone around her got the heaves and they figured it was from looking at the fugness on her feet. But no, with every step Jodie took, she cast a black magic curse on them. Cleanse the blasphemy from your monitor screen with a holy water wipe.

Jodie is usually the epitome of sophistication, so we shouldn't hold this one fuck-up against her. Jodie made it up to us later when she went on ITV1's This Morning and told them that she recently honored her late grandma in a very special way:

“I had her ashes crushed up into the ink and tattooed in to me and I feel like she’s with me forever now.”

Here I was thinking that the best way to honor your grandma is by having her ashes turned into a diamond nipple ring. Leave it to Jodie Marsh to show us how a classy tribute is really done.

That beard. I don't whether to say it's a glorious piece of man fur and should be used to sell Brawny paper towels. Or is it a gross piece of muff that probably smells like dirty ass on a humid day? It looks like it's about to grow legs and piss on wall corners and hump knees. A dude should probably bring out the hedge clippers, Flowbee and grooming leash when his bushy beard beast starts to crawl past his neck and is about to become one with the hair lake on his chest. Those two bodies of hair should never touch. But then again, it kind of butches him up and kind of makes him look like a leather cub in his everyday clothes. Conflicted!

Here's Leonardo DiCaprio and his piece of the moment, Bar Blake Erin Laura Crystal or whatever her name is, riding their bikes in Manhattan yesterday. Riding bikes in NYC is a serious sport and is no joke. There's this bike lane by my apartment and it gets really busy on Saturdays. Sometimes, I stand there and watch the battle between ENRAGED bikers and clueless bitches standing in the middle of the bike lane, waiting to cross the street. I'm always impressed at how the bikers manage to spit out almost every insult in a matter of seconds. "Get out of the goddamn bike lane you stupid piece of shit cunt motherfucker dumb whore douche ass I hope I kill you one day you stupid brain dead dick." The rage that shoots out of their angry assholes can power their bike for miles. It really is some good Saturday entertainment. And yes, I'm easily impressed and easily entertained. We know this.

At this point, we're all used to wet heaving through our eye holes at Brit Brit looking like she was just crowned Miss People of Walmart, but this is a whole new level of NO. Wheel out the barbecue grill and burn it all. The ozone layer will gladly take the hit. The only place safe for eyes to land on this picture is that cupcake in SPF's hand. The rest is a violation against humanity. I've said before that I'm sort of okay with chirrun wearing Crocs, since those rubber devil hooves are more comfortable than a whale's vagina (apparently), but SPF's mismatched Crocs tell me he has more than one pair in his closet. Why does he have more than one pair of Crocs? That's double the evil. Screw the Boogeyman , the real terror hiding in the bedroom closets of children is Crocs. Call the trailer witch and light the sage. Speaking of evil showing itself through footwear...

What in the HALE kind of GD UGGs are those? Are those knit condoms for UGGs?! It looks like a pair of leg warmers giving birth to tumors. Those are what Lucifer's minions wear when performing "What A Feeling" in the Ninth Circle Ballet. Those UGGs paired with those seriously sophisticated pocket-baring coochie cutters make Brit look like she's halfway through morphing into a dwarf pony.

WHYYYYYYYYYYY to all of this.

Will somebody please buy a box of Popeye's fried chicken chips, find Brit Brit on the streets of Santa Barbara and offer to trade her that deliciousness for those devil's intestines boots? She'll do it and then you can throw that shit into the fire.

via DM

Usually, I'm all for a dress that makes eyes frantically search the chichis zone for a possible nipple slip situation, but I just can't with the mess Jessica Chastain had on her body at the Doogie Howser SINGS! Show last night. To me, in interviews Jessica Chastain always comes off as a sweet, overexcited kitten whose eyes flare with potent glee at the sight of anything shiny, so I sort of understand why she decided to wear this shit. "SHINY! AH WANTS IT ON ME!" was probably Jessica's first reaction to that fug mess. But it's her friends, family and stylist's job to gently sit on her something soft, hand her a cup of herbal tea and calmly tell her that the dress she chose makes her tits look like they fell into a coma after contracting a rare bedazzled bacteria infection. Even Jessica's chichis are frowning at this look.

That dress has achieved the impossible by looking both slutty and frumpy. It's like a whory memaw's freakum dress. That dress is such a slut that it even comes with its own STD. Or maybe that shit on her dress is a sparkly green fungus only found in the enchanted forest or rotten eggs laid by a gay trout. I don't know what it is, but I do know the free clinic should quarantine it and treat it with a topical ointment.

And Jessica made that mess look even worse by standing next to the epitome of glamorous perfection Bernadette Peters. Who let her do that and why do they hate Jessica so much?

Anyway, here's a bunch of pictures from last night's TONYs. In order: Jessica Cheststains with Bernadette Peters, Ellen Barkin (whose hairline should be studied by the Unexplained Mysteries people), Judith Light, Ricky Martin, NPH with his partner, Sheryl Crow, Amanda Seyfried, BP, Clair Huxtable, a pug in Endora drag, Stockard Channing, Audra McDonald, Linda Lavin and Hugh Jackmeoff with his feathered beard.