


It was hard to find someone sexier than topless Donatella Versace, but I succeeded. Then I sat on the porch and washed my laundry on her chest while Jimmy Joe played the harmonica and Grampa Joe whittled wood.

Donatella Versace was in St. Barfs this weekend being the most priceless thing in existence. I watch a shitload of those National Geographic and Discovery channel shows about mummies, but they never show those mummies alive and well and on vacation. For that reason alone, this website deserves it’s own channel.

I’m going to live blog American Idol tonight because it’s on its last leg and it’s either this or finish start taking down my Christmas decorations.
8:01 - Obama stuff, “yes we can,” and yes the fans can’t remember the name of this show.
8:05 - Shania is hot, the frizzy haired blonde is, too. Billions of commercials ahead.
8:11 - Amy Lame overdoing it.
8:14 - Shania is horrified. And wanting to murder this bitch.
8:15 - Randy said “yeeaah yeeah” again.
8:16 - Charity sang Summertime in Paris Hilton baby voice and got a golden ticket.
I need a cocktail.
Cindy Crawford is hawking her furniture.
Welcome back to Chicago.
8:18 - Poor Shania.
8:19 - Would be nice to know what these people are talking about, but we didn’t get to see their auditions.
8:20 - We passed up all those other auditions for Angela and her traffic warrant? Christ.
Trying not to forget what I’m doing here in favor of masturbating to anything other than this.
Michelle Obama and her scary eyebrows scaring people into charging 10 bucks on their cell phone bill.
8:34 - I like Curly. Give that man a ticket.
8:37 - Tiny Tim and his chins stay in character.
Another hour of commercials. Coming up, another sob story… Trying not to kill myself before it’s back.
8:44 - The champ is here. Randy’s teeth are 70 shades too white. No wonder Simon quit. Poor Shania.
More poor Shania.
8:47 - Shania wets her pants for a not all that talented Asian dude.
Ryan Seacrest promising a sob story after an hour of commercials. Can’t wait.
8:47 - Ryan Seacrest bought his shirt at Forever 21
I fell asleep.
Rewound my DVR, replayed…missed nothing.
8:59 - Poor Shania.

The Golden Globes were, as usual, predictable and nauseating. Ricky Gervais snuck in some pretty decent jabs at the expense of some people in the room and their collective egos. The highlight of the night was Mo ‘Nique winning for Precious and sucking as much time off the clock as possible by taking an hour to get to the podium and another hour to babble on and on about how God gave her this award (because he wanted the other people to lose, right Mo?), and then doth protested too much about her husband. Mo ‘Nique was wearing all the curtains from Master P’s house as a dress, so when the night was over she gave those back to him. Then Mo and her husband went home where they each went to their own rooms and Hubby spent the evening painting his toenails and making out with his Neil Patrick Harris autograph.
Lovely. Gorgeous. Stunning…

I’ve been commenting on Mischa Barton’s dumshit clothing choices for half a decade, and clearly she’s only gotten less able to dress herself, so I give up. Mischa, if you want to look like the two words to describe you are “I” and “amfat” then it’s all you. Don’t say I didn’t try to help.

As you may have heard, Tila Tequila’s fiance, Casey Johnson was found dead on Monday. Since then Tila Tequila has been spending her time babbling on Twitter and writing 4th grade level poetry about how grief stricken she is over the death of her “Wifey.” Yesterday she took a break from grieving to pose for paparazzi outside her home and remind people how ugly she is. Not pictured: US Marines and Alabama Blacksnake
Note: Your best source for the mess that was Casey Johnson is our friend Mark Ebner’s book Six Degrees of Paris Hilton available at Amazon.

Here’s Tiger Woods on the cover of Vaggity Fair. This picture was taken before Tiger’s hot Swedish wife beat the shit out of him with his own golf glub, in his own car, on his own green. What a stud.

Apologies for being gone so long, but shit happens. I missed you more.
I’ve received your messages asking me to weigh in on this Tiger Woods saga, but I don’t have it in me to post every time a new hooker announces Tiger is one of her clients, so my thoughts on all of this will be limited to this one post, at least for now. So here goes…
Tiger Woods is a goofy looking dork who would not have scored any of this good looking tail in his lifetime unless he paid for it or had enough money to attract it. He’s not even charming or witty unless he’s reading a script. Bottom line is he’s a doofus with a billion dollars who’s doing what any uncharismatic goober would do … he’s getting as much as he can before his hot Swedish wife renders him ‘only’ a millionaire sans endorsements.
In other news, here’s Nicole Kidman at the NINE premiere Tuesday night with white crap all over her face. She went on a rant about Castro and Sosa. Then she went on asking if people would say hello to her little friend, and then it reached a new uncomfortable level when she was hugging and kissing her dead, half naked seester. She’s nuts, that Nicole. Tom’s fault.
