Harvey, Who Dis Woman, Because It Can’t Be Your Mom

Believe it or not, but the vision before you is not a fuck effort Janice Dickinson wax figure made by an artist with arthritis-stricken hands out of melted orange candles, dried bronzer clumps and basketball leather. It’s the saint who gave birth to Britain’s true chosen child: Harvey Price!

I’m guessing that dozens of people squinted their faces into the “The fuck is that?” position when Katie Price sashayed along the red carpet at the London premiere of The Lego Movie on Sunday afternoon. In addition to her new face, Katie brought along three of her kids (Harvey, Princess Tumamatambien and Junior) and her latest husband whose name I forgot and I’m not even going to Google, because really what’s the point? Like her face, bitch is going to have a different one next week. KATIE PRICE’S FACE, though! I don’t know what she did to it this time, but if you pricked her cheek with a needle, a river of fillers would flow out and her entire body would shrivel and fall like a deflating bouncy castle that too many fat kids jumped on.

You know how you’re supposed to teach your kids to not talk to strangers? How the hell does Katie Price tell her kids that it’s okay to trust her even though she’s always got a new face on? Does she introduce her new face to her kids and then read them My Beautiful Mom again?

With all that being said, I have to slow clap for Katie for decorating her herp sores. I’ve always said that whenever you’ve got a cold sore or a wart or a hemorrhoid, cover that bitch in metallic paint, sprinkle some glitter on it and work it proudly. Work that herp sore like it’s a precious jewel, bitch. If a rat carefully chewed off Katie Price’s lip sore and dropped it in my hand, I’d totally wear it as a necklace.

Pics: Wenn.com