Sucio

Remember when barf trickled out of your ears when your brain continuously vomited after seeing pictures of Hulk Hogan lotion-ing up his grown daughter's ass? Then remember when your soul cried itself into the fetal position after his phone rang in his sex tape and his ring tone was Brooke's song? Well, here's another nugget from Hulk Hogan that will give you the full body dry heaves. Hulk tweeted this picture of his daughter Brooke Hogan and added the caption: "Brooke's legs."

WHY?!!!!!!!!?

This sick ass exploding hot dog in a bandanna motherfucker. ("Don't you mean daughterfu..." - you "Stop right there." - me) It's one thing for Hulk Hogan to drool all over his daughter, but it's another to let everyone else know that he drools over Brooke's legs. And when Hulk drools over Brooke's legs, I don't even want to know what he does with that drool. Just like simple math, that's a place my brain never wants to go.

Source: Lords of Pain via ONTD

Bronson Pelletier used to be known as "WHO?!" or that dude from Twilight and now he's known as that drunk, dirty, sick motherfucker who pissed in the middle of LAX. Well, I guess being known as the dude who drunk pissed in the airport is better than being known as a dude from Twilight. So well, played, I mean, well peed, Bronson!

Last week, TMZ scooped CNN by breaking the highly important news story of how Bronson Pelletier was arrested for being a drunken mess at LAX. Brosnon was pulled off of his flight, because the pilot declared him way too messed up on the sweet nectar to fly. It was a good call, because if he wasn't pulled off of that flight, he would've pissed in the aisle like he was R. Kelly and that plane floor was an underage girl, and every passenger would've gotten ten whiffs of beer-infused bladder water. Right after Bronson was kicked off the plane, he pulled out his weapon and pissed.... and pissed.... and pissed... and pissed.... and pissed until his extra long pee time was cut short by an officer who tackled him to the ground. The officer didn't even let him shake!

At the time of his arrest, Bronson denied giving a golden shower show in the middle of the airport, but since the video has come out, his spokeswhore says he realizes he has a problem and is going to go to rehab to deal with his issues with booze and with getting piss happy in public.

You know, after watching that pissy mess of a video, I am so proud of myself for never being so damn drunk that an officer had to put my shit back into my panties after tackling me to the ground, because I made a pee pee all over the carpet. You should be proud of yourself too if you've never done that.

And yeah they could've cleaned that puddle of bad decisions up with a Bissel pet cleaner, but an easier way to clean it up would've been to let the Twihards in. Bronson Pelletier has been on the same set as Robert Pattinson. So there's a chance he pissed in the urinal next to RPattz's urinal. So there's a chance some of RPattz's sparkly piss fumes floated over to Bronson's peen. So there's a chance that some of RPattz's sparkly piss fumes got on that airport carpet when Bronson did a #1 on it. Tell that to a Twihard, back up and let their wet vacuum coochie go to work.

RiRi was in Barbados a couple of days ago, but I guess that wasn't getting her enough attention, so she flew to L.A. to be a dumb whore with fellow dumb whore Chris Brown at the Lakers vs. Knicks game at the Staples Center. These STUNT QUEEN ass bitches... My thoughts and prayers are with the poor whores who waited a million hours at the concession stand to buy a foot long hot dog, were all excited about swallowing it and then lost their appetite when they sat down and watched RiRi slobber all over Fist Brown's foot long. RiRi and Chris Brown ruined a whole lot of Christmases last night.

Chronic dickmatization is a real thing when RiRi is still getting horny over a nasty motherfucker who looks like a zombi Sisquo. Chris Brown's  outside now matches his inside: dead as shit. Douchebag looks like he should be hooked up to an IV drip full of Ensure. As my favorite philosopher Khia would say, "He looks like he got dat thunda lightning."

And RiRi just had to act all EXTRA for the cameras. Why couldn't a basketball go rogue and hit Fist Brown in the face? Fuck you, basketball for not doing that.

Snookitina was on Chelsea Lately (via UsWeekly) last night, which is sort of surprising since Chelsea has spit lukewarm hate at her before, but then again Chelsea hates on everything that isn't a delicious bottle of vodka or Jennifer Aniston's vagine. But Xtina said she only agreed to go on Chelsea Lately if Chelsea went pant-less, because Chelsea always makes fun of her for being allergic to pants. So there's Chelsea sitting pant-less in a chair and Xtina just had to double the UGH by telling everyone she always lets her down low parts flap in the wind.

"I don't like to wear underwear. I like to be as free as possible at all times. It's just who I am. It's empowering. It's pussy power!"

It's "empowering" for Xtina, but weird for the people who now know that whenever they stand around her they're going to breath in the moist air her coochie breathes out. Who needs a humidifier when you've got Xtina's misty poon?

I totally understand why Xtina doesn't even bother with chonies. Drunktina is always boozed up and when you're boozed up, panties just get in the way when you need to squat a piss out behind a dumpster in the Carl's Jr. parking lot you made your piece drive into because your drunk bladder can't wait until you get home. Besides, Xtina has so much pussy power down there that her labia rips off all panties. Bitch has got the Hulk of twats.

With all that being said, I CAN'T with Xtina for quoting the legendary Alexyss K. Tylor without giving credit.

Just when I was getting super comfy in my disdain for them, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have to go and rain on my hate parade. Whyyyyyy??? Rivers are running backwards, suns are shining at midnight and dog shit is turning to rainbows!! I'm more confused than the time I was getting down to it with this super hot guy and reached down to find that he somehow had his pinky in his pants. No dick on his hand either, I checked. Saaaad face.

There's a piece in entertainmentwise about them spending £25,000 to turn an outbuilding on their French estate from a fisherman's cottage to a den of SUCIO!!! complete with a right kind of toy box and sex swing with stirrups. Somebody's been reading 50 Shades. I tried to hate on it by screaming WON'T ANYONE THINK OF THE CHIIIILDREEEN but then read on and it's on the edge of the property, and they even sound-proofed it so the kids can't hear Brad's blood curdling screams if Angie rips his head off and eats it after sex like preying mantises (manti??) are prone to do. So, I guess I have to...love it and even...be kind of jealous?? It burns.

There have been rumors that they were putting off their wedding because of Angie's cold feet but maybe her feet were just cold because the sex swing stirrups were too tight? I don't know what to think right now.

Wait. The Sun cites a source as saying:

“They disappear down there, telling their kids they’re going out for some fresh air. Brad comes back looking like the cat that got the cream and they are giggly for the rest of the day,”

Okay, BARF. Thank GOD I can go back to hating on them a little.

It's been nearly a year since failed gold digger Crystal Harris left Hugh Hefner waiting in his Hoveround at the altar, sold her engagement ring for $90k and told Howard Stern that riding Hef's tequila worm dick made her pussy vomit and not in a good way. For the past few months, Crystal has been lying on an air mattress in her studio apartment waiting for the calls from Dial-A-Skank to come in (they never did) and while she waited she thought about the glory whory days when she'd pull a number out of the red ticket dispenser in Hef's chambers and patiently wait for her turn to sit on his face. Crystal misses the scent of Fixodent wafting off of her chocha and she wants to get back to that. So Crystal begged Hef to take her back and since he doesn't remember who the hell she is, he opened his front door to her! A source tells Radar that Hef is Crystal's Stevia Daddy (Hef's doctor told him to cut back on the sugar) again.

"Crystal begged Hef to let her come back. He surprisingly doesn't have any hard feelings against her, so he let her move back into the Mansion. Shera Berchard, Hef's #1 girlfriend, moved out as soon as Crystal moved back in. Hef and Crystal are really happy back together."

I know I've called Crystal a gold digger a million times before, but ho is more of a fame digger than a gold digger. You'd have to be the dimmest gold digger alive to get with Hef. Hef doesn't let his hos leave the mansion, gives them the worst allowance ever and probably notices when his ho steals one of his prized confederate coins to secretly pawn it off while they're out buying red velvet diaper covers for his Depends. It really is like living with your pepaw. CORRECTION: It's worse than living with your pepaw. At least your pepaw doesn't make you spoon feed him Viagra pudding before hopping up and down on his peen while reading the astrology section from an old copy of Reader's Digest. Crystal is obviously trying to get on another cover of Playboy or maybe she's just really into rubbing her coochie against Hef's stoma sores. Sucia bitch.

Ted Nugent is not normally the kind of trick I post about, but I wouldn't be able to get drunk and fall into a temporary coma tonight without telling you how your wet parts can win a one-on-one date with his lips. If you follow that boring political shit, then you already know that the Secret Service have pried themselves off of Colombian call girl coochie to investigate Ted for saying that he's going to be dead or in jail if Obama gets re-elected. While defending his own ass during an interview with CBS, Ted went on a serious fuck-filled rant and ended it by threatening CBS reporter Jeff Glor with a good time:

"I'm an extremely loving and passionate man, and people who investigate me honestly, without the baggage of political correctness, ascertain the conclusion that I'm a damned nice guy...and if you can find a screening process more powerful than that, I'll suck your dick. Or I'll fuck you, how's that sound?"

So now you know that all you have to do is find a screening process more powerful than THAT and Ted will gladly tickle your crotch huevos with the goat pubes on his chin. You're welcome!

via E! News

What ho hasn't drunkenly pissed in the dirt on the side of the highway as flat bed trucks go driving by and who hasn't squatted over a bar bathroom sink when the line for the regular toilet is too long? Every ho has! But of course, Garbage Pail Skank Ke$hit thinks she's the first trick to do it and bragged about it to her Twatter followers (via UsWeekly) by sharing this picture with them. I know, she's SO hardcore. I'd be more surprised if Ke$ha Tweeted a picture of herself using actual unused toilet paper to wipe. Ke$ha also added this note to the picture, which confirms that when she's not making musical herpes, she's writing spam e-mails:

pee pee on the street. PoPo come n get me if u can find meeee. I blame traffik.

PoPo? More like the health department. Think of all dogs who now have VD warts on their noses from sniffing on Ke$ha's piss puddle (Yes, her coochie warts are so potent they can infect airborne). No, but seriously, if Ke$ha wasn't a dumb a$$, she wouldn't have given this picture out for free. Kim Kardashian made millions of dollars thanks to piss and Ke$ha ain't got shit to show for it except pee stains in her chonies. Either keep it to yourself or #getmoneybitch.

And where was the Deputy Sheriff of PAPP (Pepaws Against Public Pissing) when we needed him most?

Lindsay Lohan would fellate a frog for a dime bag (Who wouldn't, though?) and give Hugh Hefner's colostomy hole a wet willy for a spread in Playboy, but now she's really hit the "ground zero desperation" button on life's elevator by begging perv du jour Terry Richardson to love her. LiLo took her crack poon for a ride on Terry's pedo stache a few times, but she wants more from him. If you have a carbon monoxide detector near you, it's probably screeching from thinking about the toxic fumes these two created when they side fucked on Terry's floor. It's stories like this that make me wish the image creator in my brain had an off switch.

A source tells Radar that LiLo is burning up Terry's phone, but even if she was a barely legal American Apparel model, he still wouldn't want her:

"Lindsay and Terry have been friends for years and she's always had a thing for him. Lindsay thinks he's really cool and hip and could be great for her career. They had a major night of passion after they worked on this photo shoot together and now she's going all out to get her claws into him. But Terry is just not interested in pursuing a relationship with Lindsay and totally regrets hooking up with her.

Lindsay has been texting and phoning him nonstop and he's actually kind of freaked out by how strong she's been coming on to him; it's all pretty unseemly. As Terry said, there's nothing more unattractive than a desperate woman. It's a difficult situation though as they move in the same circles and have a lot of mutual friends. He's trying to work out a way to let her down gently without blowing their friendship."

Terry is the kind of perv school officials warned you about during assemblies. Dude is like a human version of a white, windowless van. Terry always has a creepy smile plastered over his face that tells you not to look below his flannel shirt or you will see his dick hanging out of his Dickies. Dude has permanent flasher face. A face that makes you scream for an adult. So it take a serious fucked up bitch to freak out that freak. Congratulations, LiLo! You managed to do it. I swear, daddy issues are a helluva drug.

Patients in Los Angeles-area hospitals suffering from severe constipation and extreme vomit phobias were transported to the premiere of New Year's Eve Apocalypse Eve at Grauman's Chinese Theatre last night for five reasons: Lea Michele, Ashton Kutcher, Katherine Heigl, Fuggie Fug and Josh Duhamel (or as their known in the medical community: suppository, douche, enema, diuretic and activated charcoal). Even the quadra power beauty queen beauty of Michelle Pfeiffer, Zac Efron, Sofia Vergara and Barbara Eden wasn't powerful enough to soothe the heaves coming out of a bitch when they watched Ick (aka Lea) and Nast (aka Ashton) mug it up for the cameras. Ashton, I know it's been a while since you've seen tits that aren't made of Plaster of Paris, but please calm yourself. I swear, this premiere had more empty stomachs and clean pussies than a virgin bulimia convention. Sucio all around.

Katherine needs to give 2001 Hillary Clinton her hair back, Ashton needs to give Mary Katherine Gallagher her hair back and both Fuggie and Lea just need to stop everything. There aren't enough chairs for all the bitches here who really need to have a seat in the back.

I was going to make a post asking who was the least annoying slag at last night's New Year's Eve premiere, but that's like choosing between a beej from a garbage disposal or a prostate exam from a pitchfork. Which funnily enough, is probably the sensation a ho feels when sitting through that shit bag of a movie.