It's a Nice Day For a Wentz Wedding

It's a Nice Day for a Wentz Wedding
By Chloe Dinnerrolly (May 18, 2008)

Like rushing to the toilet after a Taco Bell dinner, Ashlee Simpson has charged down the altar, dragging fiancée, Pete Wentz, by the back of his ugly gray hoodie, with her. Directly following in the strappy heels of her older sister Jessica, Ashlee has not only starred in her own reality show and dished out a couple of crummy albums, but has just gotten married to a boy band member, as well- a just as queer, Fall Out Boy band member, that is.

Although both Simpson sisters each have some celebrity interest, a Youth Minister turned money-hungry-exploiting- manager of a father and 2 big boobs, Ashlee now hides a small bundle under her LAMB shirt, that Jessica has never had the opportunity of smuggling. For the first time, the 23 year-old younger sibling has beaten her big sis to the punch, in the baby bump race!

(Poor Jessica didn't even know they were running. It's not like she had a chance at winning lately, especially now since her Dallas Cowboys boyfriend, Tony Romo, has just said "No mo'!")

Quite possibly the smartest career move Simpson has made since dancing the jig after her SNL lip-synching mishap, there is no greater promotional tool than getting knocked up. Oh how the public loves to watch celebrities put on the pounds. We can't help to read the tabloids and eat up those ballooning-figure pics for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

A Hollywood pregnancy guarantees at least 12 full months of press coverage, from Whoa! She's About to Unload to Baby's First Magazine Cover. Throw in a shotgun wedding and things will throw Ryan Seacrest into seizure. Any publicity can only help Simpson's new album that has already crashed and burned, after less than a month of its release. The little growing surprise fetus couldn't have arrived at a better time. Motherhood may give Simpson's breasts a little sag, but it's sure to give her career a little boost.

The emergency nuptials between Simpson and Wentz came after only a few weeks of their engagement. A baby born out of wed-lock; that is so punk rock. But this couple is so not, punk rock. Wedding attire was most likely bought from Hot Topic stores, with the groomsmen in argyle sweater vests under black blazers with cartoon skull crests on the breast pocket. While the bridesmaids wore polka-dotted dresses over neon tights with plastic pearls and plenty of colorful rubber bracelets.

As the spunky twosome exchanged vows, it appeared as a moment stolen from the movie Beetlejuice.

Of course later, at the dinner reception, Maid-Of-Honor Jessica, looked up from her plate confused and asked a nearby guest "Is this chicken what I have or is this fish?"

To which he looked at her and answered, "That's a cheeseburger."

America's Next Top Model Finishes Big

America's Next Top Model Finishes Big
by Chloe Dinnerrolly (May 15, 2008)

America's Next Top Model's newest winner has her cake and eats it too- with chocolate mousse and fudge-vanilla swirl ice cream, along with a side order of lemon meringue pie. Let's just hope she remembers to save a piece for Tyra!

Hailing from northern Florida, 20 year-old Whitney Thompson is not the kind of girl who's ashamed to ask for seconds, as long as it's not 2nd place. And with the ambition that matches her appetite, the curvy gal has been named the first plus-size champion in ANTM history, and history of reality series everywhere, for that matter.

With the season finale of Cycle 10, America's Next Top Model welcomed in the size 10 along with it. Finally getting some recognition, girls with real body shapes across the country are overjoyed with the outcome. Real girls, whose thighs stick together whenever they sit and arm flab that flaps with each effortless move, oh-so proudly, like an American flag waving in the wind.

Some may say the Southern belle holds the body-type of the average American woman, but the average American woman is fat. This nation is built on McDonald's $1 Menu and the motto: More is more, but now, like an STD on Lindsay Lohan's toilet seat, the theory has spread- to the fashion world, no less!

The success of America's Next Top Model is not a tough equation to figure out. We love to judge. Whether it’s falling off a runway in 6in stilettos, sobbing over a haircut, or getting called a tranny look-a-like by Paulina Porizkova, we love to watch thin and beautiful girls being made as fools. It makes the hair growing on our upper lip not so bad. Thanks to the show, we don't have to rely on sneaking behind someone's back in order to talk smack; it's now as easy as sitting in front of the TV.

Yes, the fashion world is completely unrealistic compared to what you see in the mirror and on the street, or dare I even say, on the scale, but that's a huge part of its appeal. Getting paid thousands of dollars to wear designer gowns, dating and partying with the hottest celebs, and living off a diet of cocaine, champagne and cigarettes, with the daily ExLax? It's a fantasy world.

Due to jealousy, insecurity, and straight-out haterade, it's nearly impossible to keep oneself from pointing out the imperfections of these almost-perfect people. It's fun. But here comes Whitney with her badonkadonk and ANTM brand behind her, to totally flip it. Like always, the big girl spoils the fun, because with a plus-size model, there's guilt involved. Who are we to pick apart someone who is not 34-24-36, while we watch and sit on our couch pigging out on Tostitos? It's hard to go against one of your own.

This is nothing but bringing false hope to young girls everywhere. What are these crazy ideas we're filling our children’s' minds with? As if a fatty can advance in society.

Personally, my heart broke once Fatima was shockingly eliminated from the final 3 in the competition. USA for Africa, my ass.

Wait, what's that sound coming down the runway? Ah, it's the rumble of the thunder thighs, with Whitney leading the way!

Mini-Post :Survey Says Gobble Gobble!

Mini-Post: Survey Says Gobble Gobble!
by Chloe Dinnerrolly (May 4, 2008)




Something you confuse your 9 year-old son for while out hunting?

TURKEY!

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Rocky the Grizzly Says He's BEAR-ly Guilty

Rocky the Grizzly Says He’s BEAR-ly Guilty:
In His Own Words
As Told to Chloe Dinnerrolly (April 25, 2008)

RAWR! I’m a bear!

I tower over you like a tidal wave set to crush and hold the weight of 500 bags full of canned beef. I have claws that can rip the skin off your face, along with the strength to mangle and distort your body into my own (non-)living Picasso.

I never floss, I never wipe, and I never shave- because I am a bear.

Sometimes people forget this, and I’m not too sure why. Humans claim to be the evolved and smarter species, with your hybrid cars and spray-on tans, yet you lack the common knowledge that I can kill you, as effortlessly as popping open a can of beer, because I am a bear.

My name is Rocky, and I’m a Grizzly. I appear in movies and TV commercials, and occasionally perform stunts for your stupid enjoyment. Things were already turning sour, when I recently got myself into a little predicament.

You see, earlier this week I accidentally “attacked” one of my trainers. I took a little-itty-bitty bite out of his neck, and ultimately it led to his death.

As sad as everyone appears to be, I have to admit, this is sort of a rite a passage for me. As a young cub, I always enjoyed tales of the violent acts committed by my ancestors that have taken place over centuries. Deep down inside, I feel whole.

Although, as easy as it is for me to take someone’s life, I’m telling you, this one was a total slip. Aren’t we allowed one of those every now and then? What’s manslaughter between coworkers, huh?

Look, I’m sorry- then again I lack compassion and empathy when it comes to human beings. Accidents happen. He was handling me; I’m a bear

Times are hard enough, with having to add the box-office flop, Semi-Pro, onto my resume. I’m only 5 years old and already getting dragged down with Will Ferrel’s dwindling career. There is not enough awareness of the pressures on Animal Stars in Hollywood. But I’m not an animal star; I’m a bear.

I am warrior of the forest.

If I had it my way, I’d be living it up in the Alaskan wilderness, alongside my girl with the biggest and hairiest ass in the Pacific Northwest. You know, one of those classy broads that can rip up a lost and mindless camper, and make a necklace of their intestines.

In the end, I guess all I can say is, “Oops! My bad.” But how many times do I have to repeat myself? I’m a frickin’ bear!

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Abortion Girl Makes a Swirl with Spin Art

Abortion Girl Makes a Swirl with Spin Art
By Chloe Dinnerrolly (April 20, 2008)

No matter what mood you may be in, I don't know of anyone who'd pass up on a good dead baby joke. But of course, leave it to some performance artist with matted hair to screw it up for the rest of us, because a new sanguinary controversy ain't bringing in any LOLs.

Aliza Shvartz, an art student at Yale University, decided for her final project to knock herself up only to knock the embryos out, over and over again. The art comes in when she videotapes it all (Hopefully with a tripod; nothing more nauseating than watching a shaky screen!) and uses the blood and matter collected from her abortions as her medium.

Using your own blood after running out of paint is understandable, but this is kind of pushing it. There's no word on where or how she was able to preserve her bodily deposits during the process, but it wouldn't be too surprising to find them all stored in her own refrigerator, right next to last night's Chinese.

Shvartz is one of those Do-It-Yourself types. And when it came to getting pregnant, did things a little differently than the average drunk college skank. She didn't actually have sex with anyone, since men can be so undependable. And when it came to the periodical evictions, didn't even bother going to an abortion clinic. Instead she took semen donations -from buds with plenty to share- to insert into her snatch with a syringe. Then later she'd open up a box of Plan B and wait it out --sitting alongside an egg timer. DING!

Sounds like another attention-grabby feminist with grizzly bear armpits and misfitted clothes on the prowl, but I doubt even Ani DiFranco would have Shvartz's back on this one.

Such an ordeal for the sake of art. I mean, who really wants to be the owner and manager of some deranged import-export business? All the inserting and aborting, inserting and aborting; it sounds so tiring, not to mention messy. But obviously monthly visits from Aunt Flow aren't enough for a solid piece.

As shocking and appalling as it all is, one can only pray she did a reasonable job at cleaning up after herself. If not, then that would just be bad etiquette.

After learning about the exhibit, Yale University claims it to all to be a hoax, and that so-called blood documented actually came from a Heinz bottle, rather than Shvartz's vagina. Shvartz's still stands by her work, stating that the project, is in fact, the real deal, and that what you see, is what you hope to never get with your shrimp cocktail.

Either way, now Tub Girl's finally got a run for her money.

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The one that got away:

Will Project's Sashay Make It Work?

Will Project's Sashay Make It Work?
by Chloe Dinnerrolly (April 12, 2008)

Auf Wiedersehen, Bravo! Later this year, Heidi Klum and gang are set to catwalk into the BenGay/Chanel No.5 smelling arms of Lifetime Television. It seems Project Runway is out to reach a larger demographic; one that includes senior citizens and single women who tend to overeat, snacking on Oreos while watching The Nanny.

A FIERCE competition among up-and-coming fashion designers, Project Runway is one of Bravo's highest rated shows. Along with a supermodel, it also happens to star the superstud, Tim Gunn. One can only guess the motivation behind the drastic move from its (soon-to-be former) network.

Was Heidi intimidated by Top Chef's Padma Lakshmi and tangled up in some post-supermodel rivalry? (Was Padma threatening to pack up her knives and go at it?) Or was it James Lipton, with his glued-on facial hair and stenciled glasses? Did the Inside the Actors’ Studio host pass on an ass-kissing interview with Santino Rice? I bet it was that lesbian, Jackie Warner from Workout, with her dumbbells and bronchitis-beaver voice. Oh, the hostility.

Be as it may, the show must go on, even if it feels like switching from satin to cotton panties.

Better known for its made-for-TV movies revolving around themes such as adultery, rape, domestic violence, and battered women, the Lifetime network may just give the reality series the juiciness its been lacking.

A designer creating an outfit out of human hair? How dull. Now, a designer creating an outfit out of human hair AND cheating on their lover with the host's dog groomer who just got out of jail for puppy pedophilia? Now THAT's hairy with high ratings guaranteed! Plus the cost of fleas.

If all is set to plan, Heidi's farewells should switch from air kisses to a slap across the face. "You are out! GET OUT!" While the judges will flip from fashion-smart Nina Garcia and Michael Kors to turkey-smart Valerie Bertinelli and Melissa Gilbert

Unfortunately, as Project Runway moves to a network familiar to most as "television for women", it brings a new sexist spin along with it. This is bound to draw a negative effect on the show's package-carrying viewers (who love 'em package-carrying contestants). For the past 4 seasons, 3 out of the 4 winners have been men. Deservingly so. Now it seems eliminations wail be 2 ovaries: in. 2 testicles: out.

It may be too soon to tell, but predictions for the future winning collection are said to look something like this:

The Butthole Surfers Will Stop at Nothing

The Butthole Surfers Will Stop at Nothing
By Chloe Dinnerrolly (Jan. 19, 2008)

Ah, the butthole; an often overlooked part of the human body. Its role plays such a great deal of importance, it's right up there with the heart, brain, and the big toe. If anyone were unlucky enough to ever encounter a serious butthole malfunction, things could get critical, and possibly even deadly.

Daily wipes ain't enough. People just aren't aware of how high maintenance the butthole actually is. It demands diamonds and pearls and trips to St. Topaz. Your asshole is a temple and it deserves to be kept in tip-top shape! You owe it to yourself and you owe it to It to get that thing checked out as often as possible.

But surely, there are roadblocks. The passageway is almost impossible to really get into on your own. You can ask it all you want, "Is everything going okay in there?" but the butthole is rather unresponsive -- verbally, at least. So how can you really make sure? Fortunately, there are doctors out there who are happy to lend you a hand.

Regrettably, such valuable information was never passed on to Brian Persaud, who is now suing a New York hospital after receiving a rectal exam he didn't ask for. On job as a construction worker, Persaud was rushed to the Emergency Room after being struck by a fallen beam. (Where was his hardhat?) He was given a couple of stitches and thorough medical procedure, a finger up the butt.

The poor man was completely oblivious to the favor that was taking place. He was getting a 2 for 1 deal! It's like coming home from a Burger King Drive-Thru and discovering an extra bag of fries with your order. So really, it's a steal!

You would think the blow to the head would've knocked some sense into the fellow, but such isn't the case. A serious hospital matter or not, Brian Persaud let it be known that his ass was completely off-limits! In desperate attempt to shield his butthole from invaders, things got violent and the patient ended up hitting one of the doctors. Eventually, he was sedated and given the examination without a fight.

But why go to such great lengths to avoid something that was inevitable? Why go as far as to physically assault someone who wears a white coat on a daily basis? You know those guys don't work out.

It is possible that he had missed his last ass wax/anal bleach appointment the week before, and was embarrassed by the stubble and discoloration. I mean, there were probably ladies present. What kind of first impression would that bring?

And of course, there is the fear of the official word getting out. Nothing worse than your construction worker buddies' constant heckling.

In the morning on site, someone making coffee asks, "So how do you take it?"
And before Brian gets a chance to answer "2 sugars, please”, a coworker chimes in, "Oh, he likes to take it up the butt."

And if that's the reason, then he brought all of it upon himself. Obviously, going to the Supreme Court with your rectal exam case isn't a smart way to keep people -and most of America- from finding out that yes, you are no stranger to having the door opened to your rear entrance. (But hey, who's to judge? Some people dig it, and others don't.)

By the way,
Would you like a chocolate covered pretzel?


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**Thanks to Nigel, the biggest Assman there is, for sharing this article for me.

Finding Your Husband in the Womb

Finding Your Husband in the Womb

by Chloe Dinnerrolly (Jan. 13, 2008)

The Brits are onto something rather brilliant, and it's not just Hugh Grant's film career. People everywhere spend so much time and money searching for that special someone to love, only to be left discouraged and lonesome. Where is Mr. Right? You need not look far.

As the English have found out, when it comes to finding a mate, there's an easier way -- an ancient way, almost. (It may not be something Jesus would do, but Noah would definitely encouraged it) For it has been discovered in London, twins separated at birth have gotten married, on “accident”.

There was something real about him, hmm? You always felt you both came from the same place. Well, now that proves to be true, literally.

Identities and further information on the twins are being withheld until the producers of All My Children (that's a pun,kids.) dish out enough money for the rights, but I think it's safe to say the new-found brother and sister are a fraternal pair. If not, not only would they have been overlooking the obvious, but they would also have to be the most self-involved couple on the planet. "You are beautiful!" "No, YOU are beautiful."

The story on how they came to be is probably something along the lines of, "I was looking across the room, to what I thought was my reflection in the mirror, but low and behold, it was my future husband."
Her spouse would add, "My initial attraction was that she was just like me, but with great breasts."

However, leave it to the British courts to hand the happy couple over with an annulment, as to say a marriage to a blood-relative is not legit. Their brother-sister bond is a bit of an extreme, but what is the big deal? It is love regardless, which means it's 2 Legit 2 Quit.

Now their marriage has become another statistic; a sacred union shattered over some shared DNA. But who knows, maybe they’ll be lucky enough to find their biological parents on Match.com.

If anything, the two can always move to Alabama, USA, where their relationship will be welcomed with open arms and six-pack of beer.

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The "Dr." is Before the "Phil" for a Reason, Y'all

There's a "Dr." Before the "Phil" for a Reason, Y'all
by Chloe Dinnerrolly (Jan. 6, 2008)

Dr. Phil likes to think his first name is really "Doctor". He has taken it upon himself to send out a national press release -to respectable news outlets like "Entertainment Tonight" and "The Insider"- to state the shocking: "Britney Spears is in dire need of both medical and psychological intervention."

TV's Dr. Phil, who's "been doing this for 30 years" as he says time and time again on his show, has obviously never heard of doctor-patient confidentiality. And even more surprising, has yet to turn on a TV or read a newspaper for as long as he's "been doing this".

It's not a victorious time for women; Hilary Clinton fell behind Barack Obama in the Iowa caucuses, Pakistan's Benazir Bhutto has been assassinated and Britney Spears has been hospitalized, ya'll! (In case you missed it, just tune into the next episode of COPS -- drug addict single mother holds her kids hostage during a police negotiation, ends up leaving in a stretcher...yada yada yada.)

For almost a couple of years now we've wondered, Does Britney Spears need real help? From the shot-gun marriages to the babies to the rehab stint to the weird robot-voice-alterations in her songs.

Britney's personal life, whether intentional or not, has always been on display. She leaves nothing to the imagination, either. The entire world has seen both the curtains and the carpet, or lack thereof. (Get it? She shaves both her head and cooch completely! Alright, dumb joke) But was it all just poor decision making?

Thankfully -and finally!- Dr. Phil has cleared the air. The saint even went as far as to visit Britney Spears at the hospital she was staying, only to walk out with his troubled "diagnosis", if you will. He claims a real concern over the girl, but I'm sure the real sorrow comes from security disallowing his camera crew to follow him inside. Could you imagine his ratings?

Dr. Phil's the kind of man that will call you an "ugly looking crack whore" on national television; tough love or self love? (You may not be a crack whore, Phil, but you sure are ugly) And is most likely in the works on his latest book, titled, "Dr. Phil: I Am the Voice of Reason"

But yes, although it may be hard to believe, Phillip Calvin McGraw is actually a clinical psychologist. Years ago, he earned his PhD from the University of North Texas. And universities in Texas just don't give diplomas away, do they? Lots of educated people come from the state, like... *crickets chirp*

I don't know what Dr. Phil is trying to do, but he ain't fooling me. Everybody in the entire WORLD knows the only opinion that matters is Oprah's. You down with O.Winfrey? Yeah you know me!

And Britney-
If you want drug-induced crazy attention, this is how it's done:

Learn something. (The goods dont start till 2:34)

How many times has Courtney had Frances Bean taken away from her? Woman is queen of rehab. Woman is queen, period.
(I miss Kurt Loder)


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