Stories about fanny fridays
First of all, you know this photo smells like curried pork, corned beef hash, and a slight touch of wild boar pheromones. In other words, Oprah and Rosie were humping each other in the costume trailer before this photo was taken. Yes, they were, Greek Girl! Just look at them! Rosie is wearing a CURTAIN and Oprah is rubbing her nipple along the curve of her elbow! And excuse me, but Oprah is wearing a dress with a slit in the FRONT! Who the hell wears a dress with a slit in the front? Put your hand down, Slutty Gay Friend! Nobody asked for your goddamn opinion!
And Rosie, where the hell are your fucking pants? You cannot tell me that you are wearing hiking boots with a DRESS! I refuse to believe that shit! Although, why am I acting so surprised? Rosie is a bulldyke, after all. When Rosie gets ready for a night out on the town, she sprays some cologne onto her boxer shorts to block out the farts. That is all. The rest of her outfit consists of leather, flannel, and denim. Oh, and latex, but that doesn’t matter until after dinner.
Anyway, here are the two beaver bandits on the upcoming cover of O Magazine. Yeah, two minutes before this photo was taken, Rosie was lying on her back with her knees on either side of her head while Oprah poured chocolate syrup onto a banana. “I am making a banana split,” Oprah said in a low, sensuous voice. “And believe me, I will be sucking that banana right out of your split!”
Oh, God. I just threw up all over my highchair. HOUSE BITCH! Get the hell over here and clean up my vomit! You see? This what happens when you show me photos like this! God, you can’t do anything right! I am in a very fragile emotional state right now! If I wanted to throw up this often, I would simply rub some white powder on my nose, let my vaginal hygiene go to hell, and call myself Kate Moss. Yeah. Because...because supermodels throw up a lot. Yeah.
Excuse you, Florida, but what the hell happens if I see an attractive alligator and wish to take her out to dinner? If I am unable to date cold-blooded females with leathery skin and mossy toenails, then you are cutting my chances of finding a date on Saturday night! Damn you, I am just getting over a bad breakup! Here I am, trying to get on with my life, when you come along and wag your finger in my face! Well, fuck you! And fuck you, too, House Bitch! There is nothing funny about this situation! You are just jealous because I have pouty lips and an enticing aroma. And yes, I am saying what you think I am saying. I am that twisted.
In other words, what Goat Bitch uses to drown his sorrows after Baba Yaga has scrubbed his teeth with a used toilet brush and beaten him with the heel of her Manolo Blahnik. Oh, Goat Bitch. How many times have I told you to replace the tampons after you have taken the last one? Baba Yaga does not take kindly to people using her things! Remember the time you used her Venus razor to shape your pubic hairs? She grabbed you by the back of your neck and screamed, “A trim? You want a TRIM? I’LL GIVE YOU A TRIM!” Then she dragged you into the kitchen, turned the garbage disposal on, then made you stick your testicles down the hole. Yeah. It was just like your first night together! Except the garbage disposal had less teeth than Baba Yaga’s vagina.
Goat Bitch, what the hell are you doing to me? Why on earth would you buy something with receding gums, coarse hair, and brittle hooves? One would think that Baba Yaga was enough! No, but seriously. What compelled you to buy six Shetland ponies when you already have a Shitland pony at home? Oh, well. At least when the Shetland ponies take a dump in your food dish, it will be by accident. When Baba Yaga does it, she squats down, takes a dump, then wipes her ass with one of your ears.
Just tell me the truth already. Last week, Vivienne wanted a goat ride around the property, and you were kind enough to oblige her. However, things went sour when she dropped her lollipop into your fur, spit her gum onto your ear, then threw up all over your head. Shame on you, Goat Bitch! You got tired of giving goat rides around the property, so you went and bought six Shetland ponies! You are a sell out! You hear me? A SELL OUT!
Ugh! Anyway, according to The Sun, Goat Bitch bought six ponies for the kids and a horse for Baba Yaga: “The actor surprised his family with SIX Shetland ponies - one for each nipper - and a horse for partner Angelina Jolie. He bought them in secret and they're now grazing in a paddock on the couple's Chateau Miraval estate in the south of France.”
Goat Bitch, what have you done? Do you have any idea what that poor horse will go through? Baba Yaga will sneak into the stables at night, put on some sexy lingerie, then do a strip tease to Thong Song by Sisqo. That horse will be bashing its head against the side of the stable and trying to drown itself in the water trough. You know how Baba Yaga gets around horses! Poor Buster! He was never the same! Never the same! Some say that when the moon is full and the wind is howling through the trees, you can still hear him neighing: “No, Baba Yaga! Please! My mommy said nobody is allowed to touch me down there!”
First of all, you know this fragrance smells like tortoise eggs, canned ham, and a side of pickled pork anus on a bed of wild rice. In other words, you could throw up into a bucket, piss in it, pour it into a glass bottle, and it would still smell better than the crap Snooki came up with. Hell, you could take a crap in your bath water, fill a glass bottle with that, and sell it to Snooki! “I call it Eau de Toilette. Literally.”
Cut to Snooki ripping off the cork and wildly dabbing it behind her ears. “Oh, I love it! It smells so familiar! Like I have worn this perfume before!” You have, bitch. Every time you have taken a bath in a public toilet, you have worn my signature perfume. And please stay the hell away from me. There is no way in hell I’m catching hepatitis from a bloated bullfrog wearing diarrhea perfume.
Anyway, according to Us Magazine, our favorite pussy fart is hard at work on her own signature perfume: “No word on what the final notes will be, but the ultra-bronzed star ensures that the perfume will be ‘flirty and bubbly, you know, like my personality.’”
Flirty and bubbly? Oh, God! The Swamp Midget is going to fart into every bottle! That is her secret ingredient! Greek Girl, you sick bitch! What am I paying you two cents an hour for? You are supposed to shield me from all the bad things in this world! Now I need counseling and it is all your fault! Stupid House Bitch! You stole my innocence! Oh, wait. No. Foxy stole that in the bushes near the front entrance of Le Beaver Barn. Sigh. A very appropriate place to lose your virginity, I think.
Today’s specials include spotted dick, bangers and mash, fish tacos, and buttered crumpets. And for an exotic eastern flair, we are proud to offer Cream of Sum Yung Gai. Greek Girl, stop pursing your lips at me! I am being a food connoisseur right now! God! You have never recognized my talents! Who the hell do you think came up with the menu for Le Beaver Barn? I dare you to try and find a more succulent tuna tart at any other fine dining establishment! You judgmental bitch!
I have no idea what to say about these videos, so instead of offering up my opinions, I am going to tell the Greek Girl what a stupid loser she is. HOUSE BITCH, YOU ARE A STUPID LOSER! There. I said it. So...yeah. You can cry now. Nobody is stopping you. *lifts my leg and queefs*
You know what, Baba Yaga? All Vivienne wanted to do was take a nice walk around the goddamn property, but you had to RUIN it by shamelessly flirting with the nanny! Just look at poor Vivienne’s face in the above photos! In the first photo, Vivienne is standing there, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. And in the second photo, Vivienne is about to yank down her pants and take a large dump all over the ground. Yeah! Because that is what she thinks about the whole situation!
You see, Vivienne has a very good head on her shoulders. She has seen the pile of discarded toddler bones in the backyard. She has witnessed the senseless slaughter of innocent virgins. And she has seen the chalky ashes in the downstairs crematorium! Your daughter is very smart, Baba Yaga! It was only a matter of time before she figured you out!
Do you have any idea how much it turns her stomach to see you flirting with somebody? Vivienne knows what will happen to that poor nanny once darkness falls and Goat Bitch howls at the moon! Vivienne knew she had only one chance to save that nanny’s life, which is why she lowered herself to taking a crap on the ground. It was the only distraction she could come up with on such short notice!
Vivienne, we understand what you are doing and we salute your efforts! In fact, my admiration for you is so great, I would kneel on the ground and scoop your poop into a trash bag. Yes, I would! GREEK GIRL! Vivienne just took a shit on the ground. Get a black plastic bag and scoop it all up! You heard me, House Bitch! And remember to curtsy and thank Vivienne for allowing you to scoop up her poop. After all, we must never forget our manners!
When Gwyneth Paltrow is not busy howling at the moon, strangling homeless people, or feeding live mice to her vagina, she enjoys throwing lavish dinner parties at her vacation home in the Hamptons. If you are in the area, please stop by! Gwyneth will take one look at you, gag violently, then pinch her nose. “Oh, GOD! A poor person! Children, look away! Mommy needs to call the police! No, wait! Never mind! Mommy will go inside and get the hunting rifle. This poor thing needs to be taken out of its misery!”
Anyway, while Gwyneth was on vacation last week, she had a confrontation with somebody who was nice enough to give her maid a ride from the bus stop. According to Us Magazine: “Gwyneth Paltrow has reportedly reprimanded her maid for receiving a ride to the star’s home from a stranger. The ‘Glee’ guest star was said to be angry that the housekeeper may have compromised her privacy by revealing the location of her Hamptons, New York property. Gwyneth was mad that the maid showed strangers where she lived. Gwyneth said, ‘Please don’t give my maid a ride again!’ a source said.”
Yeah, and then she threw open the car door, dragged her maid out by the hair, and beat her with a toilet brush in the middle of the road. Her whiny, emaciated husband tried to help her by throwing rocks at the maid, but Gwyneth screamed, “No, you pussy-fart! Are you insane? This is a POOR PERSON! Go inside! You might catch something!”
Sigh. Yeah, words cannot describe just how much I despise this bitch. Gwyneth and Baba Yaga should get together and discuss Goat Bitch’s shortcomings over a nice glass of chilled toddler blood. I think those two would get along beautifully. Gwyneth can talk about her lavish dinner parties while Baba Yaga smiles awkwardly and says, “Oh, uh, I never eat animal meat. Just human flesh. Children, mostly.”
“Oh,” Gwyneth says, looking stumped. “Well. I only need one child. Moses was a stupid name anyway! Can you stop by next week? I make a fabulous toddler paprikash!”
After a long day of destroying underwear and depleting the ozone layer with their farts, the loons like to come home and simply relax. And this loon is no exception! Notice the classy Burger King crown on her head and the plastic cup nestled inside her cleavage. When loons drink, they never make the effort to lift a cup and bring it to their lips. No. They simply squeeze their boobs together and hope for the best. If they squeeze too hard, beer explodes everywhere. But if they squeeze just right, they are bound to get a refreshing mouthful of beer. Jesus God. You know this photo smells like charbroiled beef, cat piss, and unwashed vagina.