Phoebe Price

Who cares if the name "Elena Lenina" makes your mind go blank the same way White Oprah's does when she tries to think of the name of the youngest Lohan kid. The only thing you need to know about Russian TV personality type Elena Lenina is that she brought the glamour to the Cannes Film Festival premiere of Jimmy P., Psychotherapy of a Plains Indian when she sashayed onto the red carpet with a giant butt plug of hair on top her head. Elena looks like a Martian Girl from Xenu's home planet. If this is Elena's way of trying to become the next Mrs. Tommy Girl, it's totally going to work. The quickest way to Tommy's heart is through his butt.

I am jealous of the lucky ho who got to sit behind Elena Lenina during the movie. Staring at a blond butt plug is totally better than watching some movie. Backdoor Farrah just put out the welcome mat in front of her backdoor for Elena. Just bring your butt plug hair, Elena. Farrah's already got the lube.

And here's some others at tonight's premiere who obviously didn't get the memo that the theme of the night was "sex toy hair." In order after Elena: Jennifer Lawrence, Liam Hemsworth, Cheryl Cole, Jane Fonda, Eva Longoria, Bai Ling and the all-natural Queen of Cannes Chicken Cutlets.

Being a supermodel and ho stroll icon is hard work and extremely exhausting. Every night before bed when Phoebe Price takes out her chicken cutlet cheeks and puts them in a vacuum-sealed freezer bag for maximum freshness, she prays that the gods above will gift her with more time in the day so she can do everything she needs to do. This is PP's average day:

Pick out the perfect ho stroll outfit (that takes 6 hours)
Plump up her cheeks with a quick hormone injection (25 minutes)
Text a meeting place to the paparazzi (30 seconds)
Drive to paparazzi meeting spot on the ho stroll (4 hours, it's only 9 miles away, but this is L.A.)
Wait for them to show up (2 hours)
Text them again (30 seconds)
Wait for them to show up (3 hours)
Text them again and this time promise a $5 Starbucks gift card (30 seconds)
Wait for them to show up (2 hours)
Give them the $5 Starbucks gift card when they show up (3 seconds)
POSE! POSE! POSE! POSE! POSE! POSE! POSE! (3 minutes)
Drive back home (4 hours)
Bedazzle a bunch of hats while personally answering fan mail (6 hours)

I just totaled all that up and that's more than 27 hours. How does she do it? And on top of that, she has to take care of her dog Henry? So THANK GOD Phoebe Price got a nanny who can now push Henry Price around in a stroller and give her some much-needed relief. Henry Price's nanny isn't throwing a downcast side-eye, because she thinks this whole thing is a mess. She's throwing a downcast side-eye, because she's grateful that she can help such a hard-working supermodel.

The job of an international supermodel and cultural icon of the ho stroll never stops, even when an 80-something woman's Mercedes flips on its side after hitting a parked Range Rover in West Hollywood. I know, I'm trying to, but I can't either...

As firefighters pulled out the woman from her car, Chicken Cutlets put her hand on hip and gave FACE!, BODY!, FACE!, BODY! and FACE!, because RuPaul's "Supermodel" always plays in her head and her body is a slave to the camera clicks. PP's pose game never takes a minute off.

The paparazzi say that while PP was coming out of Chin Chin after having lunch, she witnessed the car crash. (insert your car crash witnessing a car crash jokes here) PP temporarily put her supermodel pose show on pause to talk to the police about what she saw and to hypnotize a tall piece of sweaty hotness with her freckled beauty. Firefighters pulled the woman out of her car, put her on a stretcher and took her to the hospital.

And after they left, PP winked and kept on posing, because she'll keep on posing till the world ends. This is what that Nana Gouvêa mess longs to be.

I'd like to think that a car driving by was blasting "One" from A Chorus Line and the music made Ben Affleck bust into his one-man kick line, but that's not what's happening here. After picking his 4-year-old daughter Seraphina up from school, Ben took her to the Brentwood County Mart and when they got there he found a bunch of paps waiting for him. Ben's b-hole started to boil up when the paps got too close to his daughter and so he started kicking at those bitches the same way Jennifer Garner has to kick out his side whores when she finds them naked in the pool house.

A source type tells TMZ that Ben never touched the pap with his foot and only kicked out his leg to show the paps how far they need to keep away from his daughter. The source says that the paps keep getting bolder and bolder and it's scaring Seraphina so much that it's making her cry. So Ben brought out his mama bear martial arts skills by kicking at those hos.

Even though Ben claims that his foot never touched that pap, I'm sure that pap will still say that the gust of wind created by Ben's flying foot made him fall to the ground, hit his head on a cement parking log and drop his $5,000 camera. The pap suffered a major concussion, his $5,000 camera is broken and he instantly developed a severe fear of flying legs. The pap will never be able to enjoy a Rockettes show again! He will sue for emotional and physical damages.

It must've been a slow day on the stroll if the paps are taking pictures of Ben Affleck. Who cares about Ben Affleck? The Oscars are over! There's brighter stars on the stroll like Phoebe Price. You know what these celeb whores need to do when they don't want to get their picture taken? They need to call up international supermodel Chicken Cutlets, because she'll show up and distract the paps with her world-class posing skills while they do whatever it is you do at the Brentwood County Mart. PP will save them.

And since you don't really care about looking at pictures of Ben Affleck, here's also some pictures of PP being demure and graceful on the stroll a couple of weeks ago.

The hottest thing in your grocer's freezer is melting the snow and bringing up the temperatures in Park City, Utah right now. Robert Redford must know that no A-list film festival is complete without the A-listiest A-lister of all the A-listsers, because Phoebe Price is at Sundance with her dog friend Henry and her mom Flora. If you're still asking yourself "For why in the name of Foster Farms is Phoebe Price at Sundance?" let me answer that with a question. For why wouldn't Phoebe Price be at Sundance? If there's a seat that really needs filling and warming, it's a seat at Sundance. It's cold there!

And PP truly is an international supermodel like no other. A truck full of chickens crashed into her, leaving her body covered in the feathers of her own kind, and she still kept on posing. Kate Moss could never.

Okay, technically Phoebe Price was born in a chicken coop in a Foster Farms in the US (not Canada) and she's at that fame whore pumpkin patch that sells pumpkins for Halloween (not Thanksgiving), but you shouldn't be so picky! I tried to find a picture of a shirtless Ryan Gosling pouring maple syrup all over his chest while deep throating a turkey drumstick in front of the Celine Dion monument in Quebec, but I couldn't, so this picture of Chicken Cutlets giving birth to a pumpkin (or having a threesome with a pumpkin and a ghost) will have to do.

You know fall has officially come when you see the Great Pumpkin sliding out the exit door after he spots PP and her crew of hired paparazzi coming into the patch. (Yes, Linus, that's the real reason why GP never shows up.) It's just a damn shame on all levels that Patton Oswalt wasn't there to give us another play-by-play of Chicken Cutlets glorious performance.

Happy Skanksgiving from PP, Canada!

Yesterday's dusty Supergirl costume lying at the bottom of a clearance bin at Halloween Town is today's best cosplay outfit worn by an international supermodel at Comic-Con! It's that time of year again when hundreds of thousands of nerds take over San Diego to worship at the freckled feet of Phoebe Price as she stuns bystanders (see: the stunned bystanders around her) by posing her freckles off while wearing a custom-made superhero costume designed EXCLUSIVELY for her by one of Hollywood's greatest costume designers. And by that I mean she wrestled a trick for it in the middle of a Rite-Aid sale aisle the day after Halloween.

PP was so focused on showing off her super power of posing until the pap's finger falls off that she didn't notice that her manager from the convention center snack bar was coming up behind her to yell at her for skipping out on trash duty again. No, of course PP's not working the Comic-Con snack bar. PP is there as Comic-Con's reigning queen (sorry, Adrianne Curry).

Both Lynda Carter and Carrie Fisher are breathing heavy sighs of relief today, because Chicken Cutlets bestowed mercy upon their egos by not out doing them again as Wonder Woman and Princess Leia. However, somebody should check on Helen Slater, because she's definitely having a "Why did I even bother?" moment after seeing Chicken Cutlets as Supergirl. Sorry, Helen, but Supergirl was meant to be a ginge and she was meant to have a pair of chicken cutlet cheeks that flap in the wind as she flies above the city.

Here's more of Chicken Cutlets melting kryptonite on the ho stroll at Comic-Con yesterday. I also threw in some pictures of Adrianne Curry keeping it demure and understated in Tommy Girl's favorite audit outfit.

Monday has happened to all of us again and some of you are sitting in your cubicle prison looking for a reason to go on. Well, stop making a noose out of paper clips, because there is a reason to go on now that international supermodel and Hot Babe forever, Phoebe Price, is taking her signature pose game across state lines! Everybody on television keeps telling my ass that NYC is going to be hotter than a freckle on a ginger cat's pussy today and now I know why. The heat is rising from the piping hot poses Chicken Cutlets threw down in Miami yesterday afternoon.

Looking like a photo shoot for Chickens Magazine: Swimsuit Edition, PP posed for the paps despite the fact that a flock of raver birds died on her ginger mane after crashing into the side of her head. Glamour doesn't stop for bird carcasses clinging to your weave. I checked CNN and they haven't yet reported on why Chicken Cutlets is in Florida, but I'm guessing she's there on a goodwill mission as the official Ambassador of the Ho Stroll. Oh Florida, you just keep finding new ways to keep your title as the fuckery capital of the world.

Nomi & Cristal, Tanya & Amber, Brandy & Monica, Nell Carter & Dinah Manoff, Alexis & Krystle, Shakespeare's Sister, Lady Macbeth & a puddle of blood and Bartles & Jaymes are just some of the most iconic pairings of glamour in history, and you can now put Courtney Stodden & Chicken Cutlets on the top of that list.

Time stopped, the sun held its breath and the entire city of L.A. went numb last Friday when the iguana goddess and the Hot Babe of the Century joined glamorous forces to melt the rubber off of every pap's camera with the hot shards of magic that jumped off of their bodies with every pose. You will lose all feeling in your eyeballs from staring at PP's "Fraggle Rock refugee" ensemble, but you'll get that feeling back after Courtney Stodden knocks you out with with her Barbizon: Stripper Division poses.

And now it's time for a math problem!

When a slutty train leaves glamour for elegance at noon while a ginger train leaves elegance for glamour, what does it look like when they crash into each other?

Answer: THIS MASTERPIECE OF A VIDEO!

BONUS VIDEO: Here's Chicken Cutlets talking about how she's been named Woman of the Year by Foster Farms the Leukemia Something Society:

I'm talking about the dog and PP. NO!!!! It looks like the cherubs have bent over and fired a fart bubble of eternal love that struck Phoebe Price and Mickey Rourke, because here they are sharing a romantic and completely private lunch in Los Angeles yesterday. Brace yourself for a tidal wave of love children that look like pieces of charred chicken cutlets with dead slug slips on 'em, because this love is going all the way. America desperately needs its own royal couple, and since Courtney Stodden and Carrot Top aren't getting together anytime soon, Mickey and PP are the next best thing. Their couple name can be Phoeckey or Chickey. It's meant to be. I am certain about this as much as I am certain that Mickey's lips are slowly exploding like a hot dog in a microwave.

Or maybe bong smoke is operating my imagination again and this is just Phoebe Price cutlet bombing Mickey's shot.