Elegance Has A Name

In 20 years when this boy is standing at the altar getting ready to marry a half melted dildo with hair like a scarecrow's nut bush, lips like the swollen anus of a power bottom gorilla and breasts that look like two basketballs made out of salmon jerky, he'll think fondly of the moment he gazed upon the Empress of Lucite and vowed to make a beauty like her his wife one day.

And also in 20 years, I'll be pouring Ensure and blended Mother's Circus Animal Cookies into my feeding tube while a nurse reads me the previous sentence from a book titled: THE WORST SENTENCES EVER WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY OF EVERYTHING. Memories.

Here's Shauna Sand and one of her lucite courtesans, fellow porn star Taylor Wayne, charming a young boy in South Beach yesterday afternoon. This is just like that scene in 8 1/2 where the young Italian boy learns about love from the local beach whore. But instead of local beach whores, the young boy above is learning about love and beauty from the modern day versions of Venus and Aphrodite.

Warning: There's a few bare nipples in the pictures below, so don't be surprised if you suddenly get a craving for grilled pepperonis and goat milk.

Brynne Gordon, the gold digging California dew drop who married an old ass Australian millionaire, was the toast of the Logie Awards in Australia on Sunday night. And what I mean by that is everybody at the show had to toast and down gallons of booze to fully embrace Brynne's beauty.

Now I know you're assuming that Brynne's one-of-a-kind luxurious gown must have been bought from a couture house in Paris, but get ready to suffer a blow to your mind because she designed it herself! YES, Brynne is a woman of a million talents. We still don't know what those talents are, but she has many of them!

Brynne's dress, which is the exact shade of the tears her husband's checking account cried when he married her, was made with the finest French silk from Taiwan and jewels she wore to her wedding. It's like Moulin Rouge meets Marie Antoinette meets the front of a dump truck. Elegantly understated as always.

Below is a clip of Brynne talking about her to dress to the Herald Sun.

Brynne should narrate the Guantanamo Bay orientation video, because her voice is as soothing as a handjob from Freddy Krueger.

Pour the coffee down the drain, put the meth pipe back in your desk drawer and tell your co-worker that they don't need to inject your veins with Red Bull this morning. Who needs any of those things to take them up up and away when you can sip on this sparkling drink of elegance. Yes, you might get HPV warts on your gums and throat, but that's a small price to pay!

Here's the Empress of Lucite looking like a single strand of lavender sprouting out of an angel's asshole. Doesn't she just take your breath away? Again, it could be the genital warts in you throat blocking your windpipe, but she's still the most beautiful woman IN DA WORLD! You know this.

And somewhere in Buckingham Palace, Queen Elizabeth II is sending her styling team into a frenzy, because now they have to find a new outfit for her to wear to church on Sunday.

If Audrey II chewed up both Hottie from Flavor of Love and Ursula the Sea Witch at the same time and then spat out a giant loogie, it would look like this glorious goddess you see before you.

It's Jaila Simms from Making the Band killing hos with her beauty at Saturday night's GLAAD Awards in Los Angeles. And I'm not just saying that. I think several hos actually died from choking on the wig glue fumes wafting off of Jaila's head. Not only did Jaila's wig put another crack in the ozone layer, but it looks like it's biting into her scalp and refusing to let go! But I guess you haven't really fought for glamour until your wig has eaten your forehead off. Bleeding for glamour: Jaila is doing it right!

In addition to Jaila, the GLAAD Awards also brought out other fanciful glittermeisters including: Chaz Bono (who is seriously turning into a giant penis head) with his girlfriend, The Discountess, McSteamy with Noxzema Girl, Glamberace, Johnny Weir, RuPaul, Bryan Batt, Chupacabra Zoe's assistant Brad, Apollonia and Candis Cayne.

Brit Brit Spears hit Rodeo Drive yesterday looking like the breakout star of The Real Housewives of the Sweetgum Trailer Park Community who regularly waters the plastic flowers outside of her double wide while wearing the dress from her third wedding. The gas station-bought Sally Jesse Raphael glasses are a nice touch. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Brit Brit is the epitome of opulence. As usual.

And obviously, this girl agrees with me:

Haul out the holly, because March 21st is officially my new Christmas! I have already been gifted with pictures of Chicken Cutlets sunning her hot cross buns in Malibu, and now here's pictures of Shauna Sand riding a jet ski like a graceful lucite angel dolphin gliding through clouds made of diamond dust. That's not water splashing. That's the jet-ski orgasming, because it had the epitome of elegance on its back. Cancel church, because here we have the father, the son, and the holy lucite.

Here's more of the Empress of Lucite and her new subservient in Miami yesterday. And you know that I'd lick CHERYL BURKE'S mop head if Shauna commanded me to, but she really needs to send that beat down Louis Vuitton bag to the Natural History Museum already. It's pretty much an artifact.

Charlize Theron is making all the worst dressed lists this morning and I'm not sure why. A few hating hos have called Charlize's "Janet Jackson getting titty cupped" dress tasteless, tacky and trampy. Yeah exactly, point me to the problem, because most of us would nibble on Jon Gosselin's crotch sprout to be called tasteless, tacky and trampy. That's a life goal.

If I still haven't convinced you, let me put it this way: The top of Charlize's dress looks like two labia flowers suckling on her chichi nipples. Sold, right?

All day long I've been wishing for something or someone to come along to class this joint up a bit. You know, a thing of real beauty to take the focus off the crusty stains in the carpet or that old pizza box on the floor that you refuse to throw away. Well, someone up there (SPOILER ALERT: Besus Arthur) has answered my prayers, because look at what the mini-mall plastic surgeon dragged in! BEHOLD!

Wipe the crust off your mouth, put some pants on and wash out our one good cup, because there's a real lady in our presence!

Doesn't she look like a nymphet princess covered in crystal pure rain drops and the tears of virgin angels? This is rare! You only find ravishing beauties like this at a Vh1 casting call or slouched over a toilet in the bathroom of a strip club.

The paparazzi claim that the dude escorting Dlisted's new beauty ambassador is Nikki Sixx. Yeah, that's not Nikki Sixx. That's Patti Stanger dressed as Nikki Sixx. Do you blame her? I too would dress up like Nikki Sixx if it meant I got to hold the precious hand of a modern day Aphrodite.

The only way to follow-up a post about figure skating is to post pictures of Bobby Trendy working the ho stroll with a ball of wrapping paper on his head, his own cum drops on his teeth and the necklace Chicken Cutlets won in her lawsuit against Chanel on his chest. Perfection as always. Oh, and don't mind the bulge. That's just the pussy lips on his peen head blowing out cotton candy-flavored smoke. They do that a lot.

When Joan Henrietta Collins hit the runway at the Red Dress fashion show in NYC last night, every single person in the audience slapped themselves as though it had come from the diamond-covered hand of Alexis Carrington herself. And then Joan spread her chiffon red wings at the end of the catwalk, everybody in the room got a text message from their husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend or mother saying that they were leaving them for Joan Collins. That's right. Only this glamorous rhinestone minx can steal your man and slap you in the face with simply the raise of her wrist.

The homely creatures who followed Joan's eyelash-singing entrance should've stayed in the back eating stale bagels. Even if unicorns came flying out of their assholes, they still couldn't beat Joan.

If you feel like you need an ice cube on your tongue to heal the burns left by Joan Collins, here's pictures of everyone else who walked in the Red Dress show last night. They are: Raven (who looked like she had just suffered hours of electro-shock therapy), Kim Kardashian, Kristen Chenoweth, Felicity Huffman, Valerie Harper, Hasselcrack, Heidi Klum, Kimora the Terrible, and Bethenny Frankel.