What In Marie Antwatnette Hell?

So this is what it would look like if the Fairy Godmother got drunk on fermented apples, got high on pixie dust and accidentally turned a rotten, worm-filled pumpkin into a royal skank instead of turning it into a carriage.

A knocked up Katie Price got sprayed down with bright orange car paint, put on one of Prince Poppycock’s rejected ensembles and threw the carcasses of a dozen Poochie dolls on her head to pose with her stripper husband Kieran Hayler at the launch of her latest literary masterpiece, which will obviously be studied in depth by lit majors at Cambridge. Since Katie’s latest soon-to-be Booker Prize winner is a romance novel, her stripper husband dressed up like a prince complete with a frog mask (it’s weird that he never took it off, right?) and she did herself up like a fried Cheeto covered in cotton candy . The people at the event whose retinas weren’t burnt off by the UV rays shooting off of Katie’s skin were stunned by the classiness and exquisiteness of it all.

In other Katie Price news, she recently got kicked out of a tanning salon because they wouldn’t let her expose her unborn fetus to the UV rays. Katie told the BBC that the salon was obviously just using her name to get some free publicity and there’s nothing wrong with charbroiling your fetus.

“I think there was a tanning shop opening down the road, so she probably wanted press for her one. You can go on sunbeds when you’re pregnant. It’s ridiculous. Look how brown I am. I’ve have just been on holiday. Is the sun bad for you? But anyway, whatever anyone says, it’s my life and I do what I like.”

Katie Price is one hundred percent correct. Her baby will be fine. I’m pretty sure Tan Mom’s mom conceived her in a tanning bed, birthed her in a tanning bed and used a tanning bed as her crib and she turned out fine! Besides, Katie Price does not want to give birth to a pasty white thing so she might as well tan her fetus while it’s lounging in there. Fetuses need something to do.

Pics: Wenn.com, Splash

Meet Harvey Price’s Latest Stepfather

Katie Price once again redefined the definition of bridal elegance on Wednesday when she slipped a nip and gave everyone a thigh show after she made part-time stripper Kieran Hayler (or as earth angel Harvey Price probably calls him, “Fuck OFF!“) her third husband in the Bahamas. When Katie married Harvey Price’s first stepfather Peter Andre, she looked like a pink Barbie cake violently diarrhea’d all over her.  When Katie married Harvey’s second stepfather, cross-dressing cage fighter Roxy Baby, she did quickie-style in a Las Vegas wedding chapel. And for her third wedding, Katie got married at Sandals in the Bahamas and wore a classic stripper gown while her future ex-husband wore a sensible mother of the bride blouse. The Sun has the pictures and you should brace yourself for the demure classiness that will hit you after you click over.

Katie and part-time stripper Keiran Hayler have been together for about nine seconds and she tells The Sun that she knew he was destined to be her third husband, because a psychic told her that she would marry a man named KEVIN. “Keiran” is practically Irish for “Kevin” and Katie cares about the sanctity of marriage as much as she cares about having dignity, so she figured why not!

“I saw a medium who told me I’d already met the person I was going to marry. She also said his name was Kevin. Well, Kieran has been after me for a year, ever since we were first introduced by our mutual friend Phil Turner — husband of my make-up artist Gary Cockerill (Note: I wish my last name was Cockerill). Apparently, he’d been asking for my mobile number for ages. And his name is also close to Kevin, so it all became clear. I took a friend with me who made notes during the session with the medium because I wanted to make sure I’d heard everything accurately. Yes, I’m following my heart — but I’m not harming anyone. All I can say is there is no Pricey rulebook. If I feel something is right, I’ll do it, even if it comes out of the blue.”

Katie also said that this is ONLY her third marriage, so get off her ass.

“This is only my third marriage. I did my own Pricey Marriage Survey and discovered I was in good company. Joan Collins has been married five times, Liz Taylor did eight and Zsa Zsa Gabor nine. So there! I get stick, but no one has picked on them for all the marriages they’ve had.”

I’ve always said that a couple that waxes their assholes together, stays together, but I have a feeling that just like a newborn pube sprouting out of Kieran’s crotch follicle, Katie’s wedding ring will be plucked off and thrown into the trash in about ten minutes.

Harvey Price wasn’t at the wedding and I’m not mad at Katie for that. Harvey probably had better things to do like ANYTHING other than going to this wedding. Besides, once you’ve rolled your eyes at one Katie Price wedding, you’ve rolled your eyes at every Katie Price wedding.

Meanwhile, In England…

While some Americans continued to fight with each other on Facebook over this election shit and others earned a date with the FBI by threatening to Lee Harvey Oswald the president, across the pond, the exquisite angel maker (I mean, she did produce earth angel Harvey Price) that is Katie Price united the people of Britain by plumping up her angelic camel toe before putting it on display at the launch of her new lingerie line in London.

Looking like the Frederick’s outlet version of Emma Frost, the tarnished rhinestone formerly known as Jordan showed off her new collection of lingerie that’s perfect for a third tier stripper who only has a few cum-stained dollars to spend on her work clothes and wants it to show. Katie delivered a journey of elegance that started with the tiara that looks like it was made with balls of aluminum foil and glass from a broken Zima bottle. Then she led us to her chichis which look like two oversized dinosaur eggs shoved into a nest made by a drag queen. And finally, she took us to the garter belt tattoo that is so classy and demure that Queen Elizabeth got the same one on her thigh.

Katie Price usually looks like a plastic duck on the wrong kind of testosterone boosters, but today she looked like the most delicate swan on the lake. I’m sure this is the exact image Tchaikovsky had in his head when he wrote Swan Lake.

QOTD: What’s The Rudest Thing Katie Price Has Done For Love?

During a press conference for her soon-to-be Galaxy National Book Award-winning “novel” In The Name Of Love, Now Magazine asked the pride of Britain Katie Price what is the rudest thing she’s ever done in the name of love. If Katie Price wanted to spit out some honesty for the first time in her entire life, she would’ve said the time she got into a stunt marriage with Alex Reid to fulfill her love for her true soulmate: FAME. But instead, Katie told reporters about the time she Grey Goose’d her cross-dressing, MMA-fighting ex-husband. If you’re sucking on the tip of a vodka bottle or having butt sex right now, you might not want to read the rest. Because reading it will ruin both of those acts for you. This is the shit that came out of Katie’s mouth when asked about the rudest thing she’s done for love:

“I fucked Alex up the arse with a vodka bottle.”

Did we not learn anything from 1 Guy, 1 Jar?! Do NOT Google that unless you want your insides to die and fall out of your ass (you could be into that, I don’t know).

So Katie basically gave Alex a vodka enema. Big deal. Who hasn’t given themselves a vodka enema after they’ve had their wisdom teeth pulled out and the dentist told them they can’t drink booze orally for a few days? We’ve all done it. If Katie really wanted to tell the reporters some fucked up shit she’s done during sex, she should’ve told them about the time she gave Dane Bowers a pedicure with her twat.

Harvey’s Gonna Get A New Stepfather

Katie Price’s divorce to cross-dressing MMA fighter Roxy Baby isn’t finalized yet, but that hasn’t stopped her from lining up her next ex-husband. Kim Kardashian has handed the whoopin’ stick to Katie Price and now it’s her turn once again to beat at the pile of horse bones dust that is the sanctity of marriage. Katie’s rep told The Sun yesterday that her Argentine boy piece Leandro Penna pooped the question into her ears on Friday night. Since Katie will only say no to the questions “Your skin is starting to bubble, do you think you should get out of the tanning bed now?” and “Can we fuck without the cameras just this once?“, she said YES! It’s a wonderful day for Katie’s divorce lawyer (he can put a down payment on that country house now) and Thelma Madine (who obviously makes all of Katie’s cotton candy queef wedding dresses). Katie’s rep had this to say about her latest engagement:

“It’s true — they are engaged. Leandro proposed to Katie while they were away skiing recently — and she said yes. They told her children but had intended to keep it secret for a while. No wedding arrangements have been made and they are both quite relaxed about that for the time being.”

Leandro designed Katie’s ring himself with help from her favorite jeweler. Today is the day where you learn that there’s a 6-year-old girl trapped inside of Leandro and Katie’s favorite jeweler also designs the rings sold in candy machines outside of The Dollar Tree. This tacky mess looks like a dingle pulled off of Parasite Hilton’s ass hairs:

I have a feeling that this is going to last longer than Katie’s past marriages. Leandro and Katie both barely speak English and they both have exquisite taste in jewelry. They’re meant to be. Oh, what am I saying? This shit isn’t going to last. Katie has had ass warts that lasted longer than this marriage will last. I just hope that at the wedding, Harvey Price will continue to be the voice of the people by quoting himself while giving a speech at the reception:

I know I pull that clip out of the vault every other damn week, but it’s a gem and gems were made to be appreciated at all times. And it best expresses my thoughts about pretty much everything.

A Double Shot Of Class

The world is about to find out whether or not it has enough supplies of titty gel, rayon hair, pecan skin varnish, Lamisil cream for vaginas and industrial strength antibiotics for two Katie Prices. Because when Katie Price wet humped with reality TV, a throbbing genital wart grew and out popped 19-year-old Amy Willteron! Amy is the winner(?) of Signed By Katie Price and has won a glamour modeling contract as well as learning everything there is to know about building a multimillion pound empire when you’ve got the talent of a nipple pimple.

Usually when Katie Price takes someone under her wing, they later fall out with full body syphilis and Agent Fake Tan syndrome. But Amy Willerton is safe, because Katie Price only means it figuratively. Amy is Katie’s new protégée and she’s set to take the glamour modeling world by storm one camel toe flash at a time.

That’s nice and everything, but I’m going to tell Amy the same thing I tell the free clinic nurse when he goes down to my down low bits to find out where the hissing sound is coming from: GOOD LUCK and BEA ARTHUR BLESS! Amy will get a two-page spread in Nuts Magazine, a crawl-on role in Katie’s next sex tape and that’s it. Amy just doesn’t have the no-so-secret secret to Katie Price’s success. I’m talking about HARVEY!!!!!!

Harvey is who a four leaf clover goes to when it needs good luck. Harvey can make a broken mirror glue itself together. Harvey is really what you find at the end of a rainbow. Katie Price is nothing (stop right there and that would still be a factual statement) without HARVEY!!!!