Hi. Wow, I think I started receiving death threats. How hot is THAT? So I got a new gig and it involves me social media-ing, and blogging a lot and obviously I left this place abandoned like when a kidnapper has a basement girl and he gets killed and what a horrifying metaphor this is going to be so I’ll stop. Oh, and I decided to start off by answering all the questions left on my last entry (including the gross watch in the toilet one from Bill Cosby and fuck him for asking that cuz’ it’s known I think poop is gross). I would throw up the Unqualified picture but I can’t find the damn thing and I’m too lazy to go back and Save As that mess. I am seriously run down in the life, huh?
Archive for the ‘Terrorism DOES Begin At Home’ Category
And I know she’s only a mean teen, but I think Ashley is the worst. Anyway, so the other night Bravo showed the eagerly awaited part 2 to the fashion show/country club/my Chinchilla mini-jacket from Paterson, New Jersey is waiting to kill you, Danielle, you BITCH! episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. And shit was effed up!
It was sort of everything you pray for in a gross reality show about plastic-faced, aging narcissists. You had broken heels, hair-pulling, screaming, running, big-haired women mourning the death of class, crazy women who go to “energists” taking refuge in Bentleys, really weird hairlines (what is going on with Teresa‘s hair? I won’t ask her personally because she’s from Paterson, did you know she was from Paterson?), snotty mean teens getting wet over discovering that becoming the villainess on a reality show is way better than being Homecoming Queen, and why being being called “honey” is better than being called “bitch.”
Anyway, I’m thinking that the producers have these tricks blow a couple of rails before having the Kim Twins wrangle their asses to the same events and then they let the fur, er, the extensions, fly.
And I know none of it is actually really “real.” Teresa knows that if she plants her Chinchilla mini-jacketed ass outside in the foyer waiting for Danielle to walk by so that the blood games can begin, she will surely get re-signed for next season. The two Kims know if they stage a fashion show, and play both sides, and have fuck hair (did you see the hair on Danielle’s primary Kim? What, did she let a train get run on her before the Posche show?), it could possibly result in becoming a main cast member next season. After all, they are out one Housewife! Hell, the Two Kims should get their own show! That Bethany slut over in NYC got hers and that show consisted of her raging at her mo’ wedding planner and shopping at Costco!
These women aren’t fools, they are business ladies, and they are getting theirs!
Danielle Staub seems to be the craziest, most paranoid middle-aged waspface ever to grace our screens, but she’s on the fast track to becoming a household name! Who else calls the cops when they break a heel and suddenly can not move or breathe after being yelled at after a country club (emphasis on “cunt”) fashion show? Perfection!
And that Ashley girl. Man, have you ever wanted to take off your evening glove, weight it with a brick, and smack a smug teen upside her nosejob? Ooo, Danielle and Teresa are just crazy, but this one is young and immature and thinks she’s Alexis Carrington. When in actuality, she’s attention-starved, sneer-faced imbecile trash (although, props for “un-beweave-able” – even her totally ineffectual mother smirked at that shit). When she was mouthing off to her parents at the end, I wanted her to experience Carrie’s mom, Joan Crawford, and the woman who drove her kids into the lake all at the same time. Can the guy who punched Snookie punch Ashley?
This show is actually so soul-deadening that it gives me chest pains after I watch it for too long. Considering all the bad press Joisee has gotten lately, how hasn’t there been a mass exodus? At this point I would lie and say I was from Cleveland.
First off, you might want to turn the volume down on this bitch because if you’re at your office, someone might thing you’re being attacked in your cubicle by a crazy with racial issues. Or if you’re at home, the kids might think Daddy got into some blow and had a life-changer before he got home. Here’s Mel Gibson making a strong case for a muscle relaxant to be administered or a straight jacket to be tried on in a taped phone call to ex Oksana Grigorieva. Radar acquired the tape.
He flips out about her alleged “foreign bodies” (aka breast implants), and tells the mother of his child that she’s a whore and looks like a “bitch on heat” (which makes her sound like she’s on a stove). My favorite part is when he tells her that her clothes are so slutty that he can see her vagina from the back (it’s like x-Ray ‘gina vision)!
And of course he makes his now infamous comment implying that black guys are running around looking for ladies to rape as a group sporting event.
Why do I get the impression this chick was smiling the entire time as she listened to his mania and watched the recorder’s digital time read-out increase?
As expected, Dina Lohan acted her usual enabling stagemom “who’s gonna float me my Xanax money?” self yesterday when Lohan’s tearbombs burst as she heard she was going to do a bid and Dina heard the verdict. Here’s what Popeater says she said:
“This is so not fair to do this to my child,” a flabbergasted Dina Lohan told PopEater exclusively shortly after Judge Marsha Revel made the announcement.
Come again? Fair?!?!
Someone on Facebook mentioned that they sorta kinda felt bad for Lindsay because it’s fairly obvious this aging hag supported her ass by building the “you can do anything you want, you’re Supergirl, now sign this check for Mommy” scaffolding around her. Which made her a sociopath. Frankly, I think that as an adult, you can’t blame your shithead behavior on your parents. There is something called “responsibility.” RiRi Harvey once made me wear Chinese knock-off Nikes from Building #19 with the swish REVERSED and in GOLD LAME (they would be so hot nowadays) to school and I haven’t raped a nun, yet. Although it totally made me like boys…
But nevertheless it IS obvious that Lohan had next to no chance to even OBSERVE how a normal adult carries themselves while growing up. Not that it excuses anything. I wouldn’t excuse her from the Sarlac pit at this point, she’s so awful.
Oh, and don’t think Manic Mike Lohan didn’t show his crazy self outside the courtroom. Firstly, word is he tried to barge INTO the courtroom during the proceedings to attempt to read some sort of statement on behalf on Lindsay. Keep in mind that his entire estranged family wants nothing to do with him, and he is INSERTING himself into the center for attention. This is a grown-ass man. And check this out:
While he declined to issue a comment following the sentencing (ed. note – he must have had food in his mouth or something), his spokeswoman baffled reporters when she urged Lohan to report to rehab immediately, apparently unaware the actress must first go to jail. When corrected by an onlooker, the unidentified rep said the rehab portion of the ruling was “a great victory” for the Lohan family.
So basically, even their EMPLOYEES are crackers. Then again, this was probably some slut he met down the pub and declared her his “spokeswoman.” Right?
People reports that Paula Baby’s former housekeeper, Mary Alice White, is allegedly responsible for thefts of men and women’s (I knew those sons of hers were fruits…men’s jewelry, they mean cock rings and nipple piercings) jewelry beginning in August of last year.
White got pinched on May 5, trying to pawn a pair of earrings worth $18,000. A police reports says that she was found with a portion of the missing jewelry on her. And how does the gray-shagged butter wonder feel about this betrayal?
“It was kind of like a death in the family,” Deen tells PEOPLE. “I was so sad and upset because I loved this person and told them every day that I loved them. So it’s always sad when someone disappoints you.”
Aw. People give Paula Deen guff because she’s, well, nuts and secretes butter, and well, nuts. But I like her. I fall for that down-homey bullshit with the brick oven stove, and the sit by the fire and tell me your problems, honey, and the fact that she can take a flying frozen ham to the face (see below) and still keep goin’. That had to hurt.
Part of me always wants to hire a cleaning lady for our place because I am a fat, lazy, depressed bitch who can barely summon the effort to open the refrigerator door so I can get a spoonful of mayo to ingest as a snack. But then I think, what if she goes through my shit? What if she goes on my laptop and finds my porn? What if she does things to my toothbrush?!?! Fear and paranoia are excellent motivators when it comes to housekeeping.
Ok, so earlier today I filled you in on Gary Coleman‘s ex-wife (BUT THEY WERE PLANNING ON RE-MARRYING, GOD I THINK I FEEL A SEIZURE COMING ON, SOMEONE FETCH ME SOME SORT OF OXYGEN DEVICE WITH MASK) taking his unfortunate death on the road to get herself some coin. And now, TMZ is reporting that this bitch might be saving herself a seat on the hell barge right next to your average Al Qaeda member, that Ugandan eat da poo poo guy, and a former manager of mine who shall remain nameless.
Gary Coleman’s ex-wife is the mastermind behind the photos which show the actor in the hospital, bloodied, with tubes sticking out of his body … and there’s also a photo taken after he died. We’re told Shannon Price had a production company shoot the photos. Our sources say Shannon is featured in one of the photos.
It would have been enough if this soulless whore had whipped out her phone or some shit, BUT SHE HIRED A PRODUCTION COMPANY?!? Which means she planned all along to make these photos look as clear and gory as possible to fetch a good sum. Which she did. A tabloid has purchased three of the pictures (even they didn’t want to buy THE POST-MORTEM ONE SHE HAD TAKEN).
I could write more about how cold this trick is, but then I thought to myself…what if this was all planned? Gary had heart issues. Ronald McDrummond said they were having money troubles. Maybe this was his way of making sure she was sorta taken care of for at least a little while after he kicked? Kind of a sad showbiz O. Henry story?
Nah. She’s seriously evil. I wouldn’t stand near her. Nature is bound to take care of this.
As some of you are aware (despite Blanche Devereaux’s untimely passing eclipsing it like a parasol hides the face of a demure Southern belle, ok, bad analogy), Gary Coleman died. And it’s sad, because he died as sort of a running pop culture joke. A former child star who wanted to remain relevant but was only still popular because he was a former child star who wanted to remain relevant. And a former child star who would get into public fights with people mocking him, and marry publicity-thirsty slags (check the photo), and refuse to say “Whatchoo talkin’ bout, America?” when prodded. Who can blame him for wanting to hang onto his last shred of dignity, right?
Anyway, Gary’s ex-wife Shannon Price is some kinda bitch, because she is on an Arnold Drummond death tour and looking for scraps. And by scraps, I mean as much money as she can squeeze out of the little man’s death. The little man who, by the way, died sort of mysteriously after hitting his head during a fall at their home (supposedly it was a seizure?). You know this bitch tried to bite him with those monster chiclets and he was running away when he fell!
Anyway, Big Red took her clown act to Good Morning America this morning and continued to elude class and dignity by insisting that she was going to re-marry Gary (she wasn’t named in the will and they were divorced despite living together) and had nothing to do with his death. Oh, and during the interview, E! reports that she briefly halted it to fake a seizure. Girrrrllllll……
So Kate Gosselin and her child junta will once again grace TLC in a new special called Kate Plus 8 Minus Fucktard Still Cunty. The actual title is Kate Plus 8 but see what I did there? Anyway, People has a sneak preview and Kate takes her kids to the Everglades for a vacation? Check the adventure!
What else is in store for Kate and the kids on Sunday’s show? More close encounters with creatures — they’ll feed sting rays and exotic birds and swim with dolphins — as well as some tasty treats. They’ll participate in an orange juice squeezing contest and eat birthday cake, of course!
It’s the kids’ sixth birthday celebration. Uh, have you heard of a place called Disney, Mom? Cuz’ raping hillbillies in swamp shacks on stilts and deadly water moccasins are not my idea of awesome birthday times! Alexis needs to drop her a note or something!
Anyway, they go on one of those Everglades tours that I will never ever be a part of because of my fear of reptiles. Here’s Kate’s battle with an alligator. The alligator needs to get on the stick and handle this business! But it’s too damn lazy! Couldn’t someone have put some raw meat on Kate’s head?
Oh, and my kingdom for the ability to make one of those gif things of Kate imitating what the alligator sounded like when it supposedly threatened her. “AWWHEHHHH!” Say it again, Kate! “AWWEHHHH!!” That’s the sound Jon makes when he squeezes into his Ed Hardy shirts and prays that coke dick won’t mess up his swingin’ new bachelor lifestyle again.
In other news, it’s wrong that I miss Kate’s angry cockatoo hairstyle, right?
As you may have heard by now, Sandra Bullock has passed on attending the international premieres of her Oscar-winning (I’m trying to get over that one, although I’m happy Sandy won that jam, she’s Sandy and you can’t not like her despite some of her shitty movie choices…) flick The Blind Side. And you know the reason why, too. Her husband, West Coast Choppers reality dude Jesse James, has been fucking everyone under the sun including Nazis (no joke) and various stripper freaks. Why you gotta do Sandy like that, Jess?
Sandy Bullock is one of those celebrities who I can’t help liking. I don’t know, she just never triggered my celebrity gag reflex. She seems like your cool aunt or the chick at work that you can go for a pint with and tell her about the time the plumber caught you whacking off. She’s been in several thousand middle of the road movies (God, I could watch 28 Days every weekend for the rest of my life…it’s that bad/good, like a cinematic Hershey’s kiss, plus I think I want to be Jasper when I grow up despite him being a total wanker – “I’m sorry I make it so hard to love me!” WAH!) and just made America feel content. She’s attractive but non-threatening. Angelina seems like the kind of girl who you would find having sex with your hot mom, Nicole Kidman looks like candle wax, Jennifer Aniston is completely boring and pathetic and no one’s sure why she keeps making movie after movie because no one goes to them but Sandy is just..nice. She does her job and lives her life.
When she ended up married to the scary (but sorta hot before he ended up being a prick fiend) Jesse James, it was kind of a huh? But hey, stranger things have happened (did ya see Britanny Murphy’s husband? Tell me drugs didn’t kill her ass.) A Beauty and the Beast sitch, one can see Jesse wiping grease off his mitts on his jeans as Sandy brings a couple of beers out to the garage and he sweeps her in her arms and she laughs and hey..cool relationship.
Then THIS strumpet with the Nazi fetish and this other slattern came forward to snatch that cash with tales of Jesse lubing up his crank shaft and inserting it into their retread caverns. Sigh. That’s a real downer. Best Actress Oscar curse aside (Kate Winslet took awhile to dump her hubby, btw, so not sure it’s a curse up there with the cast of Poltergeist dying horribly), it really puts a damper on this non-Hollywoodish Hollywood couple love story.
I feel for Sandy. The girl showed up to collect her Razzie in person the same week she won the Oscar. She’s a class act. So she makes movies about FBI agents who become beauty queens, and stalkers who comedically fall down wells. She’s nice. Sandy, if you need a friend, you know how to find me.
Now are the days in which parents hoax the potential death of their child to get themselves a reality show (turn on your tv – that wayward balloon might be carrying a vomiting child!). Where a pop star dies and his pre-death spectral plastic surgery and drug addicted carcass visage staggering around during rehearsal gets released to theaters (Joe Jackson, get that cash!)These are the days where snarly women who have born too many piglets hash out their bitter divorces from Ed Hardy-swathed whiny dumbass fuckstick husbands all over my screen vee!
They couldn’t have come sooner. Society’s been crumbling for the longest time. We might as well enjoy the show, right? If you have a problem, just turn off your TV and your many electronic devices and go look at a tree or the ocean.
The Boyfriend and I decided that if we get engaged anytime soon, we’re getting married on Dec. 21, 2012. Right, we’re thinking getting married on the day the world is supposed to end. That’s right, put us at the alter while John Cusack tugs his children through our ceremony to get to safety somehow. I feel that we’re going to have to have six year old children floating around in escaped weather balloons during the ceremony. Fuck doves.
I knew I needed to blog today, and I was perusing the world and this is what I was feeling.