Category Archives: celebrity

How the Duggars prepare for #20….Part 1

Where were you when you heard that Michelle Duggar was having her 20th child?  If you are like most Americans, you were watching them on the “Today Show” with Ann Curry while stuffing bacon into your mouth like packing peanuts into a large box whilst wearing your “Forever Lazy“.   Whether you feel like this is a good thing, a bad thing or are completely infatuated with this (because it is ridiculously excessive and you don’t know whether to cry, laugh or move to Canada) and don’t really have an opinion (like myself)- here is the story of what needs to be done in order to open up the “Michelle Duggar Fetus Factory”.

Its been a while since the union workers have been brought in to clean up the factory-Over a year since the steam and midnight oil was being burned.  The Michelle Duggar Fetus Factory was about to turn on its lights and feel hundreds of feet pacing on its floors on a daily basis.  Many of the towns locals (who were still suffering from the recession), lined up to get this freelance job in the factory.  Its uterine wall could fit half of the townsfolk at one time, so this was not only a godly blessing but also an economical one.

Mr. White from the edge of town was the first to arrive.  It’s been hard for him and his family to make ends meet ever since the Cancer.   The bill collectors are on the brink of breaking down his door in order to pay them back the thousands of dollars he borrowed.  Mr White was hired to keep the factory clean, which was no easy feat.  When he swung open the revolving labia doors, he recognized that smell from all of the previous births.  It was the smell of sweat, gasoline, blood and freshly baked artisan breads.  He was home.

He got out his broom and started to sweep up all of the twigs and dead bugs that were covering the tiles.   He started humming along with the radio that he dusted the cobwebs off of and turned on.  It was playing “Rhythm of the Night” by Debarge.  As soon as he heard the songs chorus, he was transformed to a different time- the year was 1988 when Michelle had a normal sized uterus and she was giving birth to her first.  Mr. White was the janitor at the hospital she gave birth in.  He enjoyed having such a close relationship to the mothers in his ward and he wanted to give them the gift of cleanliness.  Mrs. Duggar never got the smell of clean out of her nostrils.  It was a heavenly scent similar to lemons, alcohol and Mr. Clean.  He has been a key member of the team ever since.

When he came out of his trance he realized that he was almost finished with the sweeping and was almost ready to begin the padding of the uterine walls.  At that moment, his team finally arrived!  Lazy Pete, Dirty Steve and Cotton Eye Joe came in with a childish glee recognizing that this was the location where they became men.   Like that of a group of soldiers that experience something beyond words together.  They have endured things that NO MAN should have to see, and it makes them stronger as an outcome.  Lazy Pete continues to serve them a celebratory meal that he created using only local ingredients.  He was making the team, “Cheesy Duggarberries in Velveeta”. 

After the hearty meal of seasonal Duggarberries, they began taking in the excess skin from her stomach and turning it into an insulation of sorts.  She had enough excess skin that could fill the Empire State Building. They found ancient markings on the walls from its past residents.  Mostly claw marks ( like those of someone being dragged to a horrible fate), but a little bit of drawing….stick figures and such.

“We are going to have a long 9 months, aren’t we Steve?” said Cotton-Eye Joe.

“Not as long as the path to the cave” exclaimed Dirty Steve.

They both took a long inspired gaze into the distance.  Alongside the entrance to the factory is a dirt road that leads to the “Dark Cave of Lost Souls”.  This is where some of the unlucky get lost when they go beyond the factory walls.  Never. To. Be. Seen. Again.

To be continued…….

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“wool makes my penis itchy”

Penis Sweater:

Just in case your dick has to go outside to chop wood or shovel a driveway, you can buy a sweater for it!  Oh wait?  Is this a novelty item?  This is the kind of shit you buy as a “joke gift” then it ends up being stored in some drawer somewhere.  One day, when in the process of moving or looking for something- you will stumble upon it with a mother, girlfriend, exterminator…whatever, who will never look at you the same and not quite believe this was a funny “joke” gift afterall.  You vagina.

shlong sweater

For cold winter nights.

Reusable maxipads that look like watermellons:

What is more disgusting than being a woman at that time of the month?  In no way is this a time of my life when i say to myself “Boy, i feel like a woman!  A woman who has weird shit coming out of her vagina”.  Seriously?  I mean, yes sure… is a part of life that is beautiful and shit, but It really really sucks.  I wish it were socially acceptable to banish myself from society until my body decides to behave again.  Having said all that, the weird stuff that comes out of ladies is not something that I want to be reminded of.  I want to flush it or burn it or piss on it then burn it, whatever…..but I don’t want to wash it with my other clothes and find that I have hardened blood clots on my favorite henley.

Bacteria Collection Chamber.

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“I would rather die than let my kid eat Cup-A-Soup.” -Gwyneth Paltrow

I was watching Conan the other night and Gwyneth Paltrow was one of his guests. Normally i’d be half listening as her essence gives me liquid shit, however……she mentioned something quite intriguing.  She has some fucking website that teaches humanity how to gwyneth-ize themselves.  It’s called GOOP…..really?  GOOP?

First of all….it rhymes with the racial slur for Asians  (perhaps Ms. Paltrow has some aggression from nam……or maybe she got food poisoning from some spoiled Chicken Chow Mein).

Secondly, it sounds suspiciously like male secretions…..I am shocked that the domain was available, as it was most likely a shitty porn site that gives your computer Hep C upon entry.  She IS Gwyneth Paltrow….she probably had the previous owner killed.

On the home page you see “GOOP: nourish the inner aspect, by Gweneth Paltrow”…..What the fuck is GOOP?  What the fuck does it mean to “nourish the inner aspect”?  Is she retarded? She must have swallowed too much GOOP.

The page is simple and clean: five images with a word beneath each…..make, go, get, do, be and see.


Today I’ll focus on the “MAKE” section:

I click on the quaint image of a knife and fork and enter an abyss of name dropping and shear horrors of unrelateable celebrity. Here are two examples:

Giancarlo Giametti


Below is the preface to her favorite recipes from an Italian gentleman/ dearest friend/ fashion world cocksucker….blah blah blah…”Italian Gentleman” gives me an air of those  homophobes that say…”i don’t mind fags…i just don’t want them hitting on me”… she is saying, he is an “Italian”……but i swear he isn’t like the others.  I don’t want to use a recipe that Fashion designers use, as it’s probably garnished with prunes and Metamucil.

“One of my dearest friends in the world is an Italian gentleman by the name of Giancarlo Giametti. He is the longtime friend and partner of fashion legend Valentino Garavani, another dear friend”

She apparently has a lot of Dear Friends…..I wouldn’t want to be friends with a guy that has a leather face and more liver spots than all of the golden girls combined.

Mario Batali


Below is what she says about massive ego-maniac-douchebag Mario Batali.  He looks like he has a diet of bacon grease and Delta Burkes ass fat.  He looks like he kills hookers. It might be his midlife crisis ponytail.  Who knows.  I do however know that he is a fat fuck that apparently has robot-xanax addicted celebrity friends like Gwyneth and Michael Stipe ala R.E.M.  Both of whom look like all they digest is heroin and wheat grass.

“A couple of months ago, I had the great pleasure of being invited to Mario Batali’s house for dinner (Yes, I am a lucky motherf***er!). Emeril Lagasse was also there as a guest, so I was curious to see what the great Batali would serve to dazzle a fellow super chef.”

Jesus….she is such an asshole. Of course she was invited….Mario Batali is a starfucker with a creepy fucking face.  Sitting at a table with those three dipshits sounds like purgatory. Remember when Emeril had that sitcom for two minutes?  They probably couldn’t eat because they were busy sniffing each others assholes.

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