The good news is that Craig David (Google him, you dumb fuck!) still exists.

The better news is that Craig David tried to give us some good fap material in Miami the other day when he took off his top and flexed all of his hard veins while doing of Tommy Girl’s favorite sexercise. (But Tommy is the one holding the pink rope as a naked, lubed-up Puerto Rican hustler tries to run away from him. Tommy pulls that Puerto Rican hustler right onto his Scientolopeen every time. How else did you think he got those guns?!)

The awful news is that all of these pictures are unfap-worthy because of Craig’s nasty, gross, vomit-inducing foot condoms made from the devil’s intestines. Mark all of these with a giant red X, pull up your pants and change your status from “away” to “available” on IM. (Tip of the day: Make sure you always set your IM status to “away” before you get into some good Internet porn, because nothing is worse than getting an IM from your mom while you’re fapping away).

The sound of a South American surrogate screeching out the words “Poner la epidural en él!!!” (Note: Shit translation provided by Google) followed by the faint sound of velcro ripping off was heard around the air space of Lenox Hill in NYC last night when the rightful heir to the House of Derriere throne was born. Yes, that is the reason why your lacefront floated off of your head last night before quickly falling to the floor like it was bowing. It was paying homage to its new Yaki Savior!

The entire Internet prepared for the golden age after the likes or RiRi, Auntie Basement Baby and Russell Simmons Tweeted the birth of Beyonce and Jay-Z’s first child, a daughter. Beyonce and Jay-Z have kept their lips shut about this, because they like to confirm shit the real STUNT QUEEN way. You will really know that the golden child here is when Beyonce opens the Grammys next month by riding in on adorned camel (Jay-Z) and placing her daughter in a manger made of golden weaves as back-up dancers dressed like slutty farm animals do the Single Ladies dance around them.

As for the name, E! News has come up with Blue Ivy and UsWeekly says it’s Ivy Blue (cut to LeAnn Rimes in a bikini neighing out the words, “Did somebody say Bluuuuuuuu-ooooh-ooh?“. I know both of those names sound like the name of an Eastern European porn star who is trying to make it in the US, but it has REAL meaning! Beyonce and Jay-Z slobber all over the number 4. They were both born on the 4th and they were married on the 4th. IV = 4. (Sidenote: That surrogate is never going to surrogate in this town AGAIN, because bitch was supposed to push out Baby Blue Ivy on the 4th. BABY OVEN FAIL!)

And even though Beyonce and Jay-Z rented out the entire fourth floor of Lenox Hill, forced all employees to hand over their cell phones and taped over the security cameras to keep hos from getting a picture of the new Jesus, Dlisted managed to get an EXCLUSIVE first look at Blue Ivy:

No, no. Princess Blue Ivy will make her picture debut on the cover of a limited-edition version of the Bible. (The cover of People Magazine is for peons.) Check your local pew!

Chaz Bono’s former fiancee wasn’t looking forward to putting her mouth over a peen instead of a poon, but now that she’s gone he can freely chase after his dick-getting dreams. But first, Chaz has to fill his peen fund with enough dollars to pay for the surgery. Chaz tells Rolling Stone that he’s already picked out a doctor in Belgrade and all he needs is around $45,000 to take his down low parts from clit to cock. Chaz broke it down, and yes, my eyeballs bungeed out of their sockets and hit the screen after I read that his shiny new dick could be Tommy Lee-sized.

“I could get a phalloplasty, which builds the phallus from a donor site on your body,” he says straightforwardly, “but I’m leaning more toward a metoidioplasty. It’s a procedure that uses what you already have down there” – he means his clitoris – “which has grown larger from the testosterone. You end up with a smaller phallus than with the phalloplasty, but it’s fully functional, it gets erect, and the sensation is all there.”

Does he know how big it’s going to be?

He frowns. “You know, I don’t really. I mean, I’ve never seen one erect. So it’s really hard to say. But, you know, soft, probably about three inches, and it grows considerably. I don’t know what the average size difference is, but when I’m having sex I probably get three or four times larger.” He pauses. “I was in a fairly typical heterosexual relationship, which caused some militant members of the queer community to think I’m reinforcing stereotypes or whatever. Anyway, I think Jen wished I wouldn’t get the bottom done, but she understood my need to.” He shrugs. “You have to understand, though, for me the life transformation has already happened.”

I don’t know if it was Chaz or another transman who said that he wasn’t touching his bottom area yet, because the recovery from the surgery is as painful as getting fucked in the pee hole with a hot screw and the dick doesn’t even work that well anyway.

I read a while ago that some new dicks can only get fully erect with the help of a pump. That would kind of suck. You’re like, “Get ready, bitch, this rock hard fat dick is going to fuck you into another religion! Hold onto your nipples cause they’re gonna pop off from the fuck quake I’m about to hit you with. We’re going to break the Richter Scale tonight! Are you ready? Oh wait, can you grab that bike pump out of the closet…” (<---- That's pretty much the dialogue heard in Hugh Hefner’s room every night.) But I’m glad to hear from Chaz that this doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I’m also glad to hear that Chaz’s peen will be able to grow naturally and then some!

I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve failed grade school math, but three times four equals twelve, right? Chaz can get himself a 12 inch salchicha dick? Chaz says that he will never ask Cher for the money since he wants to do this own his own, but I say, STOP IT! When it comes to getting a 12-inch dick, all pride for independence should fly out of the window. Just get that 12-inch dick, Chaz! Seriously, if Chaz gets hit by a bus tomorrow, wouldn’t he want to be hit while having a 12-inch dick? I don’t even see Chaz’s lips moving and I can tell that he’s fighting to say the word YAAAASSSSS!

Hell, Cher is so rich that she can buy everyone a 12 incher. She could be like the Oprah of 12-inch dicks. You get a 12-inch dick and you get a 12-inch dick! I’ll take one. My arm is getting so tired from hitting the snooze button 50 times every morning, so it would be nice to be able to hit that button with my new 1 footer.

And Google tells me that Chaz will still have an orgasm, but won’t be able to ejaculate. Those surgeons should try to fix that problem. Can’t they install jizz sacks down? Flavored ones? That would really be the best and I’d get that. Can you imagine if you had flavored jizz? That would be a priceless pick-up tool. Think about it. You’re at the cream bar at Starbucks when some hot piece mutters to himself, “Ugh, they’re out of hazelnut.” You wink inside knowing you’ve got this, grab his cup and fiddle with a few knobs on your nutsack before you quickly shoot out a stream of hazelnut deliciousness. That would be a beautiful story to tell everyone on your wedding day.

(Image via Out Magazine)

TMZ says that the reason Russell Brand filed for divorce yesterday and not Katy Perry is because she didn’t want her super-religious parents slapping her with their King James. That’s a bible, not a dildo brand.

Since Katy’s parents are evangelical Christians, we’re told she didn’t want to be the one to “officially” end the marriage by filing the docs … since she was raised to believe divorce is wrong.

So are stunt weddings. Her parents’ values didn’t seem to concern her too much when she MARRIED his ass. Or when her first hit song was about dyking it out. Also – someone told me that (no, “someone” isn’t me, I was at a Miley Cyrus show that night) at her concert she talks about giving head and her audience’s average age is pretty much 12. Smurfette is riding a cherry-picker when it comes to her Christian values.

They also reportedly have had divorce on deck for a couple of weeks after realizing their marriage “just wasn’t there”.

They were an incongruous couple, right? She tries way to hard to be Rainbow Brite or whatever and he looks like he was born from an oil slick. People tell me he’s funny? My problem is that I can’t watch Get Him To The Greek to find out because Jonah Hill’s in it. Jonah Hill is the worst. Both versions – depressed mastadon and neurotic Gollum. Didn’t have lap band, my fat Irish ass!

This divorce story could all be a filthy lie. The real reason Russell was the one to file could be because his wife is terrible. And exhausting. Argh, the costumes, and the wigs, and the big candy props. Desperation Tour 2011.

Speaking of desperation – here’s where I plug Manhunt Daily! One of the only reasons my Manhunt bosses let me come over here to help Michael K. out was because I promised to throw a plug into each of my posts. Free advertising! Unfortunately, I, err, forgot to include a few. So before they spank me (literally, it’s Manhunt) and then fire me, click a link if you like dick or seeing pictures of it.

Kids, I could use a hangover cure right now. Even one from a pretentious twat. I am in New York City for the New Year on Manhunt business (make of that what you will) and I went to a bar last night that Michael K. recommended. As soon as I saw the Xeroxed copies of guy’s b-holes hanging from the ceiling, I knew I was in the right place. The bar stool read “Finger Me”, there was hard core dicksucking on the monitors and the drinks were cheap (for NYC). I love my hometown of Boston, but New York is the business.

Do you ever feel like Gwyneth Paltrow keeps up that horrid website of hers just to be a cuntafasse (that’s “cuntface” in German. It really isn’t, but if you pronounce it as “Kunt-Ah-Fah-Say” it SOUNDS German and it gives calling someone a cunt a little more flair)? She’s fully aware that all of the right-minded people in the world find her condescending rich bitch website deplorable, right? This week on GOOP, Fishsticks tackled a topic we might actually be interested in – hangover cures. If you figured Gwyneth’s hangover cure was meant solely for the ultra-rich and jet-setty, you were right! Bitch wants you to fly your ass here to New York! Join me! This hotel room is the size of GOOPy’s modesty, but I’ll fit you in.

If you have the time and the inclination, I’ve found that the best hangover remedy can be a hot and cold spa treatment. The original would be the traditional Turkish Hamman, but you can find this kind of treatment in spas all over the world, including my favorites, the low-key Japanese spas in New York, like Osaka.

Start in a hot, dry room and then move into an even warmer steam room. Then splash yourself with cold water (or even dunk in cold pool or under a cold shower). Follow it with a full body scrubdown, which is typically followed by a massage. At the end you’ll be sent to a cool room to relax and cool down.

I’ve been known to recreate this experience at home too. Just draw a bath that is as hot as you can handle it and mix in some Epsom Salts and Baking Soda. Soak for twenty minutes and then pop into a freezing cold shower for 1 minute. Get back in the hot bath and stay until you’re warmed up. Then get back in the shower for 1 more minute.

Lol this bitch. Hangovers are universal. They don’t just happen to “refined” millionaire douchenuggets in London. Cherylyne in the trailer park probably doesn’t have access to a spa, you irritating mistress of smug. Also, who in the fuck has it in em’ to do all this physical activity when they are laid the fuck up with their brain trying to burst through their eyes and so dehydrated they’re pissing butter (ok, that was gross)? I can barely get off the couch, where I am undoubtedly covered in potato chip crumbs and very intent on Love & Hip-Hop. Also, who the dick has a separate shower and bathtub (in their bedroom)? My bathroom is so small that I practically shower in the sink. Snob please!

Not only that – this medical professional says her hangover cure is bullshit. This bitch left her brain in that box in Seven.

Rihanna and Chris Brown are apparently making nice on Twitter, and exchanging beautiful sentiments of love. Chris Brown is disgusting, and I’d rather rim Michael Lohan than acknowledge his ass but this is some Stockholm Syndrome shit. Forgiveness is a difficult and brave thing to do. If she forgave him for beating the stuffing out of her and then somehow still holding on to a career despite being the human equivalent of not washing your hands after #2, that’s her business. But it stills looks a little effed when you’re loving it up in the Twitter Whale’s blowhole.

Fist Brown (I love Michael K.) Tweeted “Love U More Than U Know!” and two minutes later RiRi responded with “I’ll Always Love You #1Love”. Bob Marley would like you fools to stop now, Ri. He sang that shit for smoking kush and lively upping yourself not for sending kisses to the dude who beat skid marks into your forehead expanse.

E! also reports that Chris Brown’s mother (is she a hyena like in The Omen? Hyenas use Twitter?) and Rihanna have exchanged “love” on Twitter as well.

Check out some pics of Rihanna splashing about in Barbados over the holidays. I’d rather she be loving up that Uncle Fester-looking dude who looks like he popped out from under a reef to whisk her ass to his undersea kingdom than making nice with that dickhead on Twitter.

Oh, and this is the most ham-handed segue ever. Fuck, it’s not even a segue. But I need to plug my day job over at Manhunt Daily. If you’re into dudes, you might like all the hot ass we spotlight. Or if you miss me after my last day of posting tomorrow – you know where to find me. I will miss this, I never get to write about whorish vagina over there. Well, ass vagina maybe. Ugh.