No, one of them is not Mimi. Although.... if you down an entire bottle of cotton candy vodka and chase it with a bottle of bubbles before beating yourself in the head with a plastic unicorn horn, J. Harvey does sort of look like Mimi in the right light.
Mimi is spreading the holiday cheese in Aspen by posing like this and that means it's Christmas times again. In my family, we don't give each other gifts, because we're all really lazy and shopping takes effort. So instead of doing that, we go on trips together during the holidays and give each other the priceless gift of verbally judging each other's life choices while sitting in the middle of a hotel restaurant. This year, we're going to my mom's timeshare in Hawaii and I know it's going to be weird, because timeshare people are the weirdest.
So since I'll be busy hopping to other timeshares to sit through a 6 hour-long presentation for a free breakfast (a $12 value!), Dlisted's resident guest bloggers Sweetas, J. Harvey and Lahoma will be helping me out. Starting on Sunday, Lahoma will take over Hot Slut of the Day and Sweetas, J. Harvey and I will post throughout the day. There won't be any Caption This contests during that time. I'll be back full-time on January 3rd.
And I promise that while I'm in Hawaii, I'll keep the jokes about getting lei'd to a minimum. Probably not.
Today is the day I say goodbye to the bodega bitch who always calls me "ma'm" (Not even "miss!" That burns.) and to the family of crackheads who always hang at my old subway stop and once called me a "cheap fag" for giving them a dollar. I will miss them all! So I'm moving out of Brooklyn and making my way back to the land of Angelyne, smog and jorts with UGGs today. I have to stop in Michigan first, because it's always been one of my life goals to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. No, I'm going for family shit... and to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. I'll be in Michigan until Sunday, so now all you Angelen-hos know in advance that a stage 1 trash alert will be issued when my stank ass lands.
Because I'll be busy getting drunk on Hopslam in Michigan and trying to get a car in L.A. (please tell me they still sell Pintos), one of my partners in spreading fuckery, Sweetas, is going to guest blog and help me out until Monday. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday after I wake up from my Hopslam and In-N-Out coma.
And moving would be so much better if I could just throw all my stuff on Liev Schreiber's front box and then jump on that child seat behind him. Take me to the Double Double, Liev!
Because getting two teeth pulled out of my skull a few days ago wasn't enough, I'm going in for more dental work in a quick minute. My dentist says this work is going to take a long ass while, because my mouth is a mess. ("You need to stop brushing with dirty dicks." - you "I wish" - me) Since we're on the topic of messes, while I stare deep into the nostrils of a dentist, J. Harvey will fill in for me this afternoon by posting a couple or 3 posts. I'll be back later to do Crumbs. And then after I do Crumbs, I'm going to reenact the "I'll nevah let go!" scene from Titanic with my bong and a bottle of booze, because I've been told to stay away from smoking and drinking. My dentist hates me so and has a good way of showing it.
And here's Josh Hopkins from Cougartown and James Marsden sunning their man pecs in Hawaii. I don't know if they're on the same beach, but I do know that they need to touch nipples in front of a camera at some point during their vacation.
Since J. Harvey is a certified drunk mess, I felt it was only fitting to announce his triumphant return with these pictures of Our Patron Saint of Patron, Kate Moss, trying to figure out how "this walking thing" works while leaving a Mexican restaurant in London with her husband Count Von Count last night. But before I get into Drunk Ass Kate being Drunk Ass Kate....
One of the more reliable voices in my head tells me that the sanctity of marriage will receive a flaming breath of life this weekend when the most gorgeous ginger lesbian on every planet Rojo Caliente marries Cynthia Nixon. So because of this, I'm going to spend my entire Memorial Day Weekend throwing confetti made of double pleated Dockers in the streets to celebrate the greatest ROYAL GINGER LESBIAN WEDDING OF OUR TIME! No, I won't be doing that, but I did hear that a Rojo Caliente wedding might be upon us soon, so gird your souls! My mom is in town, so my sister and I will be spending our Memorial Day Weekend fighting with each other in various restaurants around the city. While I do that, J. Harvey will be spreading the foolery on Dlisted starting today through Monday. I'll still be posting sporadically (file that under: smart words I learned while watching Clueless) throughout the weekend, so you haven't completely gotten rid of me. I'll be back full-time on Tuesday where we'll continue to investigate the mysteries of dick cheese, etc...
And now, here's Kate Moss threatening all of us with a good time by leaving her fly open while leaving that Mexican restaurant. I don't know if that peep show sign is just a decoration to make that place look edgy or if there's a porn store next door, but I sort of like the idea of a Mexican restaurant/sex store. Yes, it would smell like a donkey show star's fart, but I've smelled worse in the subway during August. I mean, when you're jacking off in a sex store, don't you really wish that you had a bowl of refried beans in your other hand? Hold the queso blanco.
Before I get into these pictures of Prince Hot Ginge and some girl giving us the drunk trash version of Romeo & Juliet, I have some quick site news. J. Harvey, who with Sweetas guest blogged on Dlisted during Christmastimes while I was busy dining at the finest Olive Gardens in Rome, is helping me out until Monday so that I can dine at the finest Olive Gardens in California. It's my last weekend in California with my mom and we're going to party hard (aka get drunk on grocery store wine under an umbrella in the backyard after going to Trader Joe's for a full lunch of free samples).
J. Harvey was nice enough to take time out from weeping on the curb in front of a Boston gay bar after getting kicked out for eating all the toppings on the complimentary baked potato bar (not a euphemism). My ass is still going to post regularly every day, but J. Harvey will be here to lighten the load (not like that). I'll be back full-time on Tuesday and then I'll be back in NYC on Saturday, so every whore in Brooklyn should enjoy the skank-free air while they still can. Now on to PHG....
PHG partied at the Brompton Club in London last night and the paparazzi held on to the roof gutters to get a picture of him talking to some drunk ass tramp in a dirty alley. PHG sure has a thing for those stringy ass blondes who look like they can't handle their booze. How does this happen, though? If it only takes a hot fag to get PHG into a stank alley, then light me on fire and kick me between two buildings.
Okay, not really, but I know what will make you sluts sit up and take notice! If I had written "Signing Off" or some lame shit like that, you would have yawned, farted, scratched your ass and continued eating nachos in yesterday's t-shirt. Or maybe that's just me and I'm giving away too much personal information.
Anygettothefuckingpointsweetas, I just wanted to say thanks to Michael K's Wild Kingdom for allowing him a little break and for choking down my unsalted cracker posts for a week. King MK will be back soon, sporting his beautiful bedazzled tin-foil and garland crown and pink-ribboned Princess Barbie scepter and showing the blogosphere how shit is done RIGHT.
Seriously, I had SO much fun and was proud to be in the company of J. Harvey and Lahoma, both of whom I would love to see next time Michael takes a well-deserved vacation. Now it's time to say goodbye, and go back to my basement desk and 10-key (glamorous, I know) and flask hidden in the top drawer so I can stomach my real life job. Thank you again, and now I'm off to work on welcoming 2012 with a scorching hangover, missing underwear and no recollection of the nights events (Godsend, that guy looked like a cracked-out Gollum and had a micro-peen) like the rest of you beautiful people. Sweetas OUT!
Image by lancastria.net
The Christmas angels in Chicago have given the Internet a holiday miracle this year and that miracle is called Jan Terri's comeback! YAASSS! When you first walk through the broken gates of the Internet, you immediately see a welcome sign with Jan Terri's "Losing You" video on it. Jan Terri is the soundtrack of our Internet lives. And after years of praying for her return, she is back with the perfect holiday song for you to sing to yourself while you're three Lohans to the wind and locked in the bathroom to get away from your family. I'll hum this song while cutting into a piece of holiday tiramisu at an Olive Garden in Rome. They have Olive Garden in Italy, right?
This year, my family decided to skip the giving presents shit and instead we're really getting neck deep into the holiday spirit by torturing and annoying each other while traveling all around Italy for a week. I've already come up with a drinking game. Every time my sister asks if they have any gluten-free pasta, I'll shoot myself. No, she's not going to ask that, because she's bringing her own (no joke). Anyway, I will still blog something every day, but while I'm seeing all the beautiful sights of Italy (examples: the alley way where Snooki passed out, the STD clinic built in The Situation's name) seasoned Dlisted guest blogger Sweetas and J. Harvey, formerly of Socialite Life and currently of Manhunt Daily, will be filling in the fuckery for me. Sweetas will continue to write all the Charlize Theron fanfic you need and J. Harvey will fill the quota for b-hole jokes. Also, my friend Lahoma will be covering most of the Hot Sluts. Lahoma used to write for Dlisted back in the olden days when I was on Blogspot and he's the one who came up with Hot Slut of the Day, so he's the perfect piece of trash for the job.
Dlisted will return to its normally scheduled foolery on January 3rd.
And now I have to go and practice how to say "Oh no, officer, that's just American oregano for my allergies..." in Italian. Merry Rojo Calientemas!
(Jan Terri's Return via TGBHH)
SO. Even Miss Cleo saw this coming. TMZ reports that Maria Shriver has officially filed for divorce papers against AHNOLT. Details are that Maria is citing irreconcilable differences (pretty nice of her, I think), there is no pre-nup, and she wants custody of the two minor children they have together, 17 year old Patrick Arnold Shriver Shwarzenneger and 13 year old Christopher Sargent Shriver Shwarzenneger. No word yet on who gets custody of Arnold Shwarzenneger's leventy-billion other children.
Ahnolt will not be back this time. You go Maria, get that 50 percent from that last 13 years. I hope the state of California paid Arnold first with their broke ass.
In totally unrelated yet so related quit-this-bitch news, it's been quite a ride. I wanna say how grateful I am that so many of you piled into my 1995 Ford Escort while Michael K's Bentley was parked at Times Square (okay they totally took the subway but work with me people). Whether my posts made you giggle or groan longingly for MK, I'm proud to have been given this opportunity to help out the hardest working ho on the blog stroll in his hour of need. Michael, it was such an honor to walk a mile in your stilettos and be the tofurkey to your delicious surf and turf, you brilliant slut. *bows deeply*
That being said, THANK GOD MK IS BACK and I can go back to busting celeb balls (without a condom, as is the custom in HoWood) in the relative anonymity of the threads!!! Watch for my upcoming book "In Love With A Gay Man: The Life And Times Of Sweetas". Till then, I'll see you all in the comments section.
Much love (you know where), Sweetas
Since Michael K is not around to hold my hand (I tried to get him to hold my ass but there's that whole "ew, GIRL" issue) and jacko is off doing God knows what (GOD knows jacko!! Jussayin!), I had to try to find something on the interwebs myself. I hit every site I could think of and came up with NADA. So this is a post about nothing. Cause that's what I got, NOTHING.
You know, nothing is highly underrated. Nothing needs to get a little love now and then, just like the rest of us sluts. No one has caressed nothing's nalgas since the 90s when Jerry Seinfeld ruled the airways, and that is a sad, sad thing. People are always ripping on nothing, saying hateful shit like "nothing is more pathetic than Paris Hilton." WRONG and INSENSITIVE.
So nothing, let's drown our sorrows together in booze and bong hits. You guys can consider this OP2, or ignore it, or whatever makes your man in the boat float. Nothing is sacred. Nothing really matters. It's NOTHING to me!
If any of you sluts have a juicy tidbit to share, I'm all ears. Otherwise I'm gonna sit here doing NOTHING (rrrrrOOOOoowwwr!), and nothing is (not) going to stop me.
The bad news is that the guest bloggers are not international supermodel Phoebe Price and her sidekick dog Henry. Chicken Cutlets' daily schedule is already filled to the top with risking her life (if she queefed, that 76 would explode into the heavens) by posing with a gas pump at various Los Angeles-area gas stations. The good news is that the guest bloggers are two Dlisted commenters! But before we get into introductions, let me explain myself.
This week, my mom and auntie are visiting all the way from California. My mom has been to New York a million times and her idea of a vacation is sitting on my couch while lecturing me on everything from my diet ("You should drink grape seed extract in distilled water instead of sugar milk with a splash of Sanka in the morning") to my exercise regime ("You should walk on the treadmill 20 minutes a day instead of walking your fat, bloated fingers along the remote for 4 hours a night!") Yes, my mother's dream in life is to be Dr. Oz's assistant of the day. Anyway, that's my mom's idea of a dream vacation, but thankfully for me it's not my auntie's.
My auntie wants to see all the shit that the tourists want to see. And I've agreed to be her guide! You know, because I'm so good at that. I'm so good at standing in a crowded elevator at the Empire State Building and loudly saying: "I've lived in New York City for almost 10 years and I've never been to the Empire State Building! Isn't that funny. Again, I've lived here for TEN WHOLE YEARS. A DECADE. That's 3,650 days if you aren't familiar with the years measurement. Isn't that crazy? Living in New York City, New York for TEN YEARS and never going to places that only tourists who don't live in New York City, New York go! You know, because I'm not a tourist so it would kind of stupid for me to go to tourist places without relatives like you who are tourists. Oh, is that my phone ringing? It's probably my New York City accountant who is calling to remind me to pay my New York State taxes next April because I'm a resident of New York City."
So yeah, I'll be doing a lot of that and won't be covering the status of Kim Kardashian's bleached asshole as much. But fear fucking not, two escapees from the Dlisted comment asylum will have you covered! And they are:
Sweetas - Sweetas in Latin does not stand for "sweet ass" as you might expect. It stands for "pickled anus," because she's as funny as she is drunk.
Jack-N-The-Hat - Jack hails to us from the wonderful state of The Fuck If I Know. Jack's Dlisted name always reminds me of Jack in the Box, which reminds me of a Sourdough Jack. And just like a Sourdough Jack, this Jack is full of processed meat, covered in bread and will give you the hard shits if you swallow him too fast. But Jack is the classier Jack in the Box, because he's got a hat instead of a box. If your pussy is too good, refer to it as a "hat" instead of a "box." The term "box" is only reserved for bougie pussies.
Sweetas and Jack be here all week! I'll also be posting in the morning and sometimes throughout the day, but they'll cover most of the hard hitting stories (see: Kim Kardashian's bleached asshole). Please give them the love and respect you give me on a daily basis. And yes, by "love and respect," I mean a lot of boos, made up coupons for Grammar School and pictures of kittens and peens (But not pictures of kitten peens, because that would just be over the line! Or would it?).