Please Welcome Dlisted’s New Weekend Writer!

No, no, Dlisted’s new weekend writer isn’t the pride and joy of this site Phoebe Price. There’s no server in the world that is strong enough to handle all of the traffic that her words of wisdom would bring. Besides, Chicken Cutlets is much too busy doing important humanitarian work like making the world a much more beautiful and elegant place with demure and inspirational photo shoots that look straight out of a Foster Farms pin-up calendar.

PP stuck puzzle pieces, bared her raw butt cutlets and served up jigsaw cooch for a photo shoot celebrating National Puzzle Day yesterday. I used to think that all of those made-up holidays were dumb as shit, but I don’t think that anymore. They obviously exist to give goddesses like PP a reason to get naked and bring the sophistication in a theme photo shoot for the paps in her storage unit.

Dlisted’s new weekend writer is Carla and I could write a thousand words about her, but the only thing you really need to know is that she’s from America’s foremost provider of fuckery: Florida! Although, I’m not totally convinced that she’s actually from Florida because she’s never been arrested for selling bath tub meth in the parking lot of a Walmart while not wearing pants. And if you’ve never been arrested for selling bath tub meth in the parking lot of a Walmart while not wearing pants, can you really say that you’re from Florida?

Carla is taking over as your new weekend provider of foolery. Allison is moving into weekdays with me. Bear with our asses as Carla settles in and we work out the kinks. I know, I say that like this mess of a site has ever worked out its kinks.

Pics: Wenn.com

Holiday Open Post: Hosted By Demure Christmas Angel Phoebe Price

Unless there was a Golden Girls Lego set or a rubber replica of Jon Hamm’s Hammaconda waiting for you under the tree, these genteel and graceful pictures of our patron saint of elegance Phoebe Price are probably the greatest gift you’ve gotten this year.

Praise be to the baby Jesus, because if he was never born, Chicken Cutlets would never have a reason to serve up her free-range uncooked Butterball butt cheeks and caged crotch giblets for the paps. (Okay, she’d do it anyway and she has, but still.) While other A-list superstars spend their holiday doing staged charity photo shoots at homeless shelters and hospitals, PP truly gave back to humanity by giving us a picture of her pretending to squirt out poultry pussy juice in the middle of what looks like a dog park. I know that you really want to send Chicken Cutlets the contents of your checking account as a thank you for this beautiful present, but she doesn’t want your money. She does this out of the goodness of her charitable chicken heart.

Merry Christmass, everyone! I hope your holiday is filled with nothing but good dick and happiness. (“You obviously don’t want me to be happy since you threw up close-up pictures of PP’s Christmas dinner ass.” -you “That’s a good point.” – me)

Pics: Wenn.com

Open Thanksgiving Post: Hosted By Chicken Cutlets Giving You Turkey Ho Couture

You know you want to gobble gobble on her turkey. You bring the gravy.

If you celebrate National Shove Forty Five Pounds Of Food Into Your Face Hole Until Your Ass Explodes Day, then you’ll soon be getting drunk on the sweet nectar while watching Showgirls on your iPhone as your drunk tia keeps interrupting to tell you that you look healthier and more filled out. (“Healthier and more filled out” is aunt-speak for, “Bitch, you got fat.“) So before the festivities start, I just want to say that I’m thankful for the sweet nectar, Showgirls, jellied cranberries, one hitters and you. I am thankful that you’re crazy and masochistic enough to read this site.

And I’m also thankful for Dlisted’s Patron Saint, 99 Cent Store plastic wrap, half-price Thanksgiving decorations at Party City and paps who show up after Phoebe Price calls them for a stunning photo shoot in front of a sheet in her garage. All of those things made this cornucopia of elegance happen. PP looks like a cross between an overcooked slutty turducken and wrapped-up Skanksgiving leftovers. PP really is a master artist who has captured the true spirit of the holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Pics: Wenn.com

At Least We’ll Always Have The Naked 90s Elegance Of The Barbi Twins

Playboy really should’ve shut down after this issue, because it was never able to reach this level of refined sophistication again.

Last night, The New York Times reported some sad news for everyone who christened their fapping hand by doing themselves for the first time while looking at a Playboy they stole from their dad or brother. (Side note: I don’t know if JcPenney makes those huge catalogs anymore, but if they do and they still have a dude underwear section in it, I’ll be extra sad if they ever get rid of it. That was my first fap material.) Playboy announced that after decades of showing chichis and chocha, they are no longer going to put naked women in their magazine. This news made half of the Internet shrug since lady nipples are a click away and made the other half of the Internet Google “What is a magazine?”

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Who Worked It Better: Phoebe Price vs. Miley Cyrus

On the left is a ginger goddess of posing perfection wearing the finest custom-couture from the House of Saran Wrap and Walgreens, and on the right is some bottom tier trailer chipmunk trying to give us fashion and failing at it.

Phoebe Price started Slutoween off the right way by modeling more elegant and expensive versions of Miley Cyrus’ MTV VMA outfits. PP was shot by a world-renowned photographer (or a paparazzo she called, same thing) in one of the most exclusive photo studios in Paris (or her garage, same thing) for French Vogue (or French Guiana Penthouse, again, same thing). Comparing Chicken Cutlets and Miley Cyrus is like comparing a flawless rare diamond worth millions and a raccoon’s kidney stone. You know, that side-by-side picture should be used in mental health evaluations. The psychiatrist should hold up that picture and ask, “Who worked it better?” If the first letter that comes out of the patient’s mouth isn’t a P, they should be dragged off to a padded cell immediately!

Pics: Splash, Getty

Debra Messing Is Cursing Cate Blanchett’s Name Today

I was hoping that the next Lucille Ball movie would be a horror movie about the terrifying Lucille Ball statue in New York coming to life and opening up a Vitameatavegamin shop where she sells a magic elixir made from the blood of the bitches who tried to get rid of her. That’s not happening. Instead, Hollywood is giving us a big Oscar-baity (probably) authorized Lucille Ball biopic. Cate Blanchett probably woke up this morning to find the words “FUCK YOU CATE BLANDSHIT” graffitied on her garage door and that could mean only two things: Cate Blanchett got the role of Lucille Ball and Debra Messing bought a can of spray paint last night.

The Wrap says that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz’s children, Lucie Arnaz and Desi Arnaz Jr., will produce and because they just had to inject some “the fuck?” into this, Aaron Sorkin is writing the script. The Wrap says the film will only cover Lucy and Desi’s mess of a marriage:

The film will chronicle Ball’s 20-year marriage to Desi Arnaz, with whom she starred on the classic TV sitcom “I Love Lucy.” Ball had two children with Arnaz before they divorced in 1960. She married Gary Morton the following year.

As for who’s going to play Desi, I’m going to guess they’re going to with Oscar Isaac. Or Tom Hiddleston with a dye job and a spray tan. Definitely Tom Hiddleston with a dye job and a spray tan.

At least they didn’t cast Jennifer Lawrence (who is snatching roles from 30 and 40-somethings left and right), but Cate Blanchett?! She’s not even a natural ginger! Yeah, yeah, I can hear you saying that Lucille Ball wasn’t a natural ginger either, but that’s not the point! Hollywood, as usual, doesn’t know shit. They should’ve cast a natural ginger who can do comedy, drama and can bring the sexiness. We all know who that is:

Pics: Wenn.com