See You, Bitch

Sunday was Sarah Palin's last day on the job as Alaska governor. Well, okay - in all honesty, her last actual day of work was a couple of weeks ago; but Sunday was the day she officially stepped down, inspiring impromptu renditions of "Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead" all over Alaska.

Now of course everyone's asking, "What's next for Sarah?" To which I reply, "Gee, I don't know, running for president?" Clearly, that's what the woman intends doing. Anyone who thinks differently is dangerously naive. And yes, I know she's facing ethics charges and blah blah, but do you think that matters to the assholes who would comprise her voter base?

You think the kind of brainless yahoos who support the likes of Glenn Beck and Dick Cheney would allow Palin's complete lack of ethics or, frankly, brains to come between them and their queen? They won't even remember that shit come 2012. And yeah, I'm putting her up against Obama in '12. She wants to be Reagan with tits, and Obama, the way he's going, could easily be her Carter.

K-Stew Sammich

Geekery has descended upon San Diego for the annual dorkgy known as Comic Con. K-Stew and the other stars of New Moon are there because...well, that's where the fanboys and fangirls are. You gotta move product. Of course we know that K-Stew - love the red shoes - is totally above the whole thing, and would much rather be off somewhere smoking a bowl and listening to Bat for Lashes. But she's stuck having to pretend she wants to be within ten yards of Robert Pattinson and that Lautner character (every time I see him I think, "He's the Jonas brother who went wrong and ended up doing some time in juvie").

I see K still tying little knots in her shirts. I sent her ten emails telling her to stop that, but, girl don't listen for shit.

Indeed, A Little Brainwash Would Be Appreciated Right Now

Madonna, in a typically desperate bid for credibility among artsy types (remember her asshole Sex coffee table book and her equally asshole remake of German New Wave director Lina Wertmuller's Swept Away), has had some L.A. street artist called Mr. Brainwash design her new album cover. And that's it. A picture of Madonna looking like she's about to hurl that some jag-off stained with piss. Uh, yeah. Fucking profound shit right there.

Let's Get It Right This Year, Emmys

For the second straight year, John Slattery has been nominated for an Emmy for playing Roger Sterling the hard-drinking, twin-fucking, oyster-puking senior partner on Mad Men. And this year he is going to win. Or the Emmys will be dead to me.

Also: Would it be possible for the Emmys take a break from giving Kathy Griffin's show the award for Best Reality Program, and throw a little love in Mike Rowe's lap for Dirty Jobs? Truly, if anyone deserves an award, it's Mike Rowe. Dude jacks off turkeys, sticks his arm down cows' assholes and wades waist-deep in shit, all to amuse us. What does Kathy Griffin do? I still haven't figured it out, to be honest.

Breast Reduction

Scarlett fanboys have been up-in-arms lately, screaming that their girl is no longer giving them as much boobalicious pleasure as she used to. It appears Scarlett has grown tired of her buxom sex-bomb persona and is trying to de-emphasize the hooters, thinking this will make people take her seriously. This dress here definitely seems calculated to take the onus off the tittays. Plus, it appears Scarlett has had her head inflated somehow, to trick our eyes into thinking her milkbags aren't as bodacious as before. Well, whatever. It's her life.

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Check Out The Scalp On That One

I've seen a few of the fine young negresses sporting this look lately. It's cool. It says to me, "Those Indians almost scalped me, but the Lone Ranger rescued me at the last second." Rihanna seems to be doing fine post-Chris Brown anyway. I mean I haven't seen any pictures of her out with any other known woman-beaters. Maybe she has been and I've just missed it.

Why Do People Still Take Her Picture?

Not sure why anyone would bother running pictures of Christina Ricci. What was the last thing she did? That thing where she had a pig snout? That thing with her and Samuel L. Jackson where she was chained up in his house? The last thing I remember her being any good in was that picture with Charlize as Aileen Wuornos, and she was second-fiddle all the way in that. By the way, did I mention that I have a huge full-back tattoo of Aileen Wuornos? No, not really. It's actually Albert Fish.

Oh, Ryan. You Are A Pip.

A wacky new story claims that, while Farrah Fawcett's dad was paying a visit to his dying daughter, he opened the door next to hers by mistake and found Ryan O'Neal in bed with Farrah's friend Alana Stewart. And they weren't eating cookies and crank calling their teachers.

Denials have already been issued by Ryan himself, but the story is confirmed by his son Griffin, who frankly isn't the most credible individual given that he probably still hates Ryan for shooting at him and his pregnant girlfriend.

Of course it isn't right to jump to conclusions. Maybe Farrah gave her blessing to Ryan and Alana to have wild sex in the room next to the one she was quietly expiring in. Maybe it was her way of saying thanks for their devotion. Maybe they were taping it so they could all make popcorn and watch it together later. You just never know.

(Thanks Maggie)

Patrick Swayze Did Not Have A Heart Attack

Patrick Swayze's rep has had to shoot down more "Patrick Swayze is Dead or About to be" rumors by debunking a tabloid report claiming the actor had suffered a heart attack.

"He's well," the rep told Access Hollywood. "He's continuing his treatment and doing very well, actually. Contrary to reports, he did not suffer a heart attack and has even gained a little weight."

Okay, let's clear one thing up: Patrick Swayze is not "well." He might be better than he has been, but he is probably never going to be "well" ever again, unless someone comes up with a miracle cure for pancreatic cancer. Sorry to sound harsh but I can't stand that phony talk.

Perry Kills Her Cred

Dear Katy Perry: See honey, here's how it works - you don't get to be edgy, then go on the Today Show and clown with Matt Lauer. Doesn't matter how many chicks you kiss, how many knives you play with, how many tattooed douchebags you lay down with - two seconds in the presence of Lauer and all that is gone. Pick a persona and run with it, 'kay fuckflakes?

Still Hot

It's impossible for Gerard Butler to not be hot. Even when he's picking his nose. Even when he's following Aniston around like a dog. Even when he's rubbing himself against Hayden Pantyliner.

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The Mad-Dog's New Style

Maddox is sporting a new style lately. Basically, he no longer looks like a kid, but a little miniature dude, complete with mustache. How is a 7-year-old growing a mustache? I know Asians are sometimes freaky that way but, dang man, he must've been exposed to radiation or some Sasquatch genes.

Jon's New Ride

Jon Gosselin got off his new ride, Hailey Glassman, and onto his chopper. The helmet shows that Jon is into safety. Let's hope he used protection while astride Hailey too. 8 really is enough.

Who's Going To Ghostwrite It? Trig Palin?

Carrie Prejean has signed a deal with some fly-by-night publishing house to do a book about her experiences as Miss California. The tome is to be called "Still Standing," and for literary merit, it will stand second only to Lauren Conrad's masterpiece "L.A. Candy."

I hate to break it to Carrie, but no one really cares about her side of the story. She is way past her expiration date. Even that idiot Perez Hilton has given up making fun of her, and that bastard never lets anything go. My advice to Carrie would be for her to forget this misbegotten venture and get on with her new career as a Republican Congressman's whore.

Sorry Johnny

I know the thrown-together ragamuffiny thing is Johnny's style and all but...I'm sorry, I have a problem with the vest and the jeans. Either lose the vest or put a pair of big-boy pants on. He also needs to wash his hair.

LaBoof Learns His Lesson

LaBoof has discovered a new means of getting around in the wake of the traffic accident that nearly cost him a finger - a dorky bike. Cool. But, um, should he be listening to music while pedaling around? And shouldn't he be wearing a helmet? I shouldn't I be sitting in his lap?

More Fun With Michael Jackson's Messed Up Body

Michael Jackson revelations coming like a tsunami. ABC has gotten its grubby hands on photos of Jackson's legs, which show track marks, dead tissue and splotchiness associated with vitiligo. Will the grossness never end?

Tom Digs Robots

I guess David Beckham is back playing soccer in America. Anyway Tom and Katie showed up at some stadium and of course there was Posh and those little clones of hers. I wonder what Tom and Posh talked about? Battery life? Joint lubrication? How to give your plastic coating a nice natural skin-like color?

Soldiering On

Kate Gosselin dressed herself and the girls up in matching adorable pink outfits and went to the pediatrician. Who says no one takes trouble about their appearance anymore? Kate's pretty put together for a modern woman. Most bitches these days, they throw on a soiled tank-top and a pair of jeans they've had for ten years - and that's to go to the opera. People gotta stop doggin' Kate. Too much jealouzy.

Typical Idiocy

Heather Mills doesn't worry about people who criticize and attack her, because Heather Mills knows the cosmos is on her side, and will eventually punish all these evil bastards who are trying to bring her down.

"The truth always outs in the end," Mills said in a recent interview. "No one gets away with those things.

"Certain journalists have written horrible things, and then they've got cancer, or they've had a tumor, or they've died. And it's terrible for them, but they've done really evil things. I truly believe things come back round."

My first instinct was to blast Heather for these remarks, but I'm not going to, because you know what? She doesn't sound any different than any other nitwit who believes in karma or cosmic retribution or whatever you want to call it.

You encounter shit like this all the time, people who think that some personal wrong done to them is going to be punished by the forces of the universe. Because, as we all know, these forces have nothing better to do than watch to make sure no one ever says anything bad about us personally.

Evidently, these fools don't recognize the fundamental egomania and arrogance underlying their beliefs. They see nothing the least bit self-important about calling upon the stars or the spirits or whatever to fuck to line up on their behalf, and punish someone who has transgressed against them.

Yes Heather is stupid, but she's stupid in such a common way that it's not even worth getting upset about.

Religion: Like Drugs, Only More Likely To Cause Terrorism

I feel sorry for Michael Jackson's kids. They've lost their daddy, they're destined to be hounded by the media for the rest of their lives...and, to top it all off, they're religious drones. Is there anything sadder? Hopefully when they hit their late teens they'll rebel and become sex-crazed drug addicts. Anything's better than following the fairy tale.

Smiling Tara

Tara Reid is happy...happy she's not Mischa Barton. We all need someone to look down on.

Kate's New Piece?

No idea who the guy is dragging the garbage to the corner for Kate. She's pretending not to pay attention to him...but who the hell does she think she's fooling? She's not sitting out there for the paps. Well, if Jon can fuck around with a new skank every day, why can't Kate?

More Jackson Family Negativity

Janet Jackson and Jermaine Dupri have split according to Us Weekly (your only source for sad Jackson family news).

"They have been moving in different directions for a while," a friend said. Another source claimed Jermaine was too much of a social butterfly for Janet who prefers holing up to going out.

Janet is also said to be spending most of her time with dead brother Michael's freak-job kids, Blanket, Paris and I Forget, so Jermaine was probably feeling neglected. Or maybe he just got sick of fucking a fat dude. I don't know.

Cute Dog

Aw, cute doggy. Um...who's the fat smiling asswipe?

(Yes, I know, Jordin Sparks. I was just testing.)

This Could Be Anything

Wrestling match? Rough sex? Delirium brought on by ingestion of salt water?

Madonna Causes Death

One worker is dead and 7 more are in bad shape after a stage they were erecting for a Madonna show in Marseille fell on them. Now the bad news: the show has been canceled! Well, fuck, guess there's no point in me flying to Marseille now. Don't know what I'll use these nose plugs for. Maybe I'll go hang out on a hog farm or stick my face in Sarah Silverman's armpit.

I Have To Know

Is that motorcycle really old and rusty or is it just painted to look old and rusty? Actually, it doesn't matter - he's a poseur either way.

Travolta's Scientology Fears

John Travolta has become a sad, babbling shadow of his former self lately, consumed with grief over the death of his son, and racked with guilt over his belief that his idiotic Scientology principles contributed to the autistic Jett's shocking and premature demise.

Travolta has become so disillusioned with Scientology, in fact, that he wants to leave the church. Unfortunately, the church has a long record of destroying the reputations of those who try to break free of it (that's how tolerant, open-minded folks always behave). Travolta's friends say he is terrified that if he tries to escape the cult, they will release damaging facts about his personal life.

So John has finally had to face the reality that his "religion" is nothing but a front for thuggishness and extortion? He's finally realized that attributing autism to "bad thetans" and treating it with saunas is a load of hogwash the likes of which no sane person would ever believe?

Too bad he couldn't have figured that out before Jett choked to death on those potato chips (or whatever the hell actually happened). Maybe then the little retard would still be alive to frolic and romp and drool lollipop juice on himself.

Travolta now knows what the Crabster realized long ago: it's better to believe in nothing.

Michael Jackson Hair Burning Video Surfaces After 25 Years

The Michael Jackson vault is being emptied of everything, including video of that famous incident in 1984 when his scalp was burned filming a Pepsi commercial. I can't remember ever seeing this, or any other clear video of that event. Obviously, this is all part of a push to explain how he ended up becoming a painkiller addict, in hopes that people will feel more sympathy for him. I don't know if it will work. I just know that video is creepy, very Faces of Death-like. Gives me the willies.

Shut The Fuck Up

Madonna stops her show in Italy to say a few words about the workers killed erecting a stage for her show in Marseille. Of course, it ends up being all about what a wonderful, life-giving person Madonna is, and how devastated she is by the tragedy, and how horrible it is that she has had to endure this because she just wants everyone to live and be happy. What a worthless, narcissistic pile of garbage (who can't even act well enough to manage two minutes of mock-sincerity).

Fergie's Junk

Everyone is talking about this photo of Fergie appearing to grab her package. This is amusing because, as a female, Fergie isn't technically supposed to have a package. So what gives? Is Fergie a dude with tits? Does she wear some kind of weird drug-smuggling pouch inside her shorts? Have her occasional accidents inspired her to don an adult diaper? The world may never know.

(ty m)

Somebody Please Stop The Birthers

The Birthers, for those who think news begins and ends with Kate Gosselin's activities, are a group of nutwads, led by such senior wackfaces as Lou Dobbs, who believe that Barack Obama is not a native-born American and therefore isn't eligible to be president. These freaks base their entire argument on the fact that Barack has allegedly not produced sufficient evidence of citizenship - an argument Jon Stewart took apart with typical incisiveness and wit last night on The Daily Show.

Actually, my beef with the Birthers has nothing to do with what they believe, the theories of wackjobs constituting nothing more than extra static fizzing and popping in the ether around me. My problem with them is that they go around calling themselves "the Birthers." You know what that name sounds like to me? Something from a bad science fiction movie. There were the Steriles, and then there were the Birthers. And they were led by Octomom.

Clearly, the anti-Barack nutjobs can't fight him on ideas or policies, because that would require the ability to comprehend something more complicated than a made-up conspiracy plot of the type Lou Dobbs enjoys propagating. Sad.

Oh, Spare Us

I don't know why, but for some reason Renee Zellweger is doing another Bridget Jones movie, and yes, she's going to get fat again for it. And in this one, Bridget hears her biological clock ticking! If you are excited to see this movie, then I don't want to know you.

Why doesn't Renee admit that these movies are just an excuse for her to stuff her face for a few months?

Satan Came On His Face

Simon Cowell got a sunburn and not one single person feels bad for him, including his mother.

Does Sarah Palin Shit In The Woods?

Crabbie's favorite new hobby: reading between the lines of Sarah Palin's tweets. Here's a nice three-parter she posted after hanging out with some bear experts in the great state of EEEElaska.

Great day w/bear management wildlife biologists; much to see in wild territory incl amazing creatures w/mama bears' gutteral raw instinct to

protect & provide for her young;She sees danger?She brazenly rises up on strong hind legs, growls Don't Touch My Cubs & the species survives

& mama bear doesn't look 2 anyone else 2 hand her anything; biologists say she works harder than males, is provider/protector for the future

Translation: I am the mama bear who rears up on my hind legs and growls and protects my children from David Letterman and all the other meanies out there. And if America will just elect me I will be the mama bear that works harder than (Democratic negro) males and provides and protects (and occasionally scolds and chucks into concentration camps) so we can have a wonderful (Fascist, fag-free) future.

Dear Sarah: Do bears protect their children one minute then turn around and exploit them for political purposes like you did when you carted them onto the campaign trail with you? Oh I get it - they're your kids; only you get to exploit them. Gotcha.

Flip-Flop Fiends

Matthew McConaughey and his chiquita took a break from fucking to walk around in flip-flops while grinning like Sarah Palin fans in front of a giant disco ball. Flip-flops on men bother me. Don't know why. When I see them, I just want to take a sledgehammer to their toes.

GaGa GooGoo

Okay so I guess Lady GaGa had a boyfriend, and she broke up with him, and now this guy is her boyfriend, or maybe he was just a one-nighter, or perhaps he's a hologram. Oh fuck, she totally ripped off my hose and lace bunny ears outfit! Bitch.

Who Wants To Drink A LohanShake?

Some joint called Millions of Milkshakes has paid Lindsay Lohan to let them put her name on one of their shakes, a concoction of vanilla ice cream, chocolate swirl and Oreos. When you drink it though, it mysteriously tastes like vodka, ciggies and jizz-spattered bathroom tile. Weird.

This Has To Be Grounds For A Lawsuit

Lady GaGa did an interview on German television dressed in an outfit made of Kermits. I'm guessing this was some kind of animal rights statement? "You wouldn't wear a whole outfit made of dead Kermits, would you?" Well, no Lady GaGa, only you would. And by the way, Kermit isn't a real frog, he's a puppet, so...fail.

Why, Madonna's Arms? Why?

Madonna had scary bodybuilder arms before, but now she has scarier, decomposing zombie horror movie arms. "Braaaaaaaaaains." Ugh, God honey, just stay in the house with the doors locked and the shades drawn.

This Is Her "I'm About To Fuck Jude Law" Face

Cameron Diaz was spotted over the weekend in a London nightspot partying with Jude Law. The Daily Mail says the two stars left through different exits, Law out the front with a "mystery woman." Clearly, the "mystery woman" was part of a ruse designed to make people think Jude and Cameron weren't scurrying off to a hotel somewhere to have wild chihuahua sex. I guess Cameron is done with that Sculfor dude, and Jude is done with Lindsay Lohan. For now, anyway.

I'm A Twitter Whore

Wanna follow the Crabster on Twitter? Of course you don't - you have a life. Stupid question. Well, what the hell, I'm there anyway, at twitter.com/crabbiekins ("crabbie" was taken by some other fuckwit). Follow me. Don't follow me. I really don't give a shit.

P.S. - If I follow you back and discover that your tweets are nothing but quotes from Emerson and other philosophical musings, I will unfollow you faster than Joe Jackson can get his belt off.

Poor Lady

David won't touch her anymore. This is all she has left. This and her gold vibrator.

most popular celebrity hollywood

 

Ava Gardner was one of Hollywood's most beautiful female stars; some would say the most beautiful of all. Her personal life was as fascinating as the plots of the movies she made and received as much public attention. She was married and divorced three times, and to three of Hollywood's top stars: Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Frank Sinatra. Sinatra privately admitted that he never got over losing her. In addition she had flings with rich and famous men, from Howard Hughes, owner of RKO studios, to Dominguin, the Spanish bullfighter.

 

The seventh and youngest child of poor tobacco farmers and a barefoot tomboy as a young girl, Gardner was invited for an interview at MGM on the grounds of her astonishingly good looks which a talent scout had noticed in a photographer's window in New York. She moved to Hollywood in 1941, where, after five years busy learning her trade in 'B' parts, in everything from unbilled bits to romantic leads in East Side Kids movies, she was perfect as Kitty Collins, the film noir temptress of 'The Killers' in 1946, leaving Burt Lancaster such a shell that he doesn't resist being assassinated.

Ava's tumultuous love life attracted as much public interest as her professional life on screen. Even before she was famous she had attracted the passionate attentions of one of the biggest stars in Hollywood at the time, Mickey Rooney, whom she had met in 1941, shortly after she arrived in LA. Rooney was the hero of MGM's Andy Hardy series and a major figure in Hollywood. Ava, the ingenue, was flattered by his attention and they married in January 1942.

The marriage foundered after just 12 months due mainly to Rooney's determination to continue carousing with his bachelor friends instead of staying home with his lovely young wife.

 

Ava's second husband was band leader Artie Shaw, in 1945. Shaw married eight times in all, and Ava was wife number 6. He criticised and made fun of her lack of formal education, to the point of being abusive. Ava reacted badly and began to drink heavily. The marriage, unsurprisingly ended after just one year.

Ava's third and final attempt at marriage was to singer, actor, and future superstar, Frank Sinatra. When they began a relationship Sinatra was already married and Ava received heavy criticism for being a marriage wrecker. They married in 1951, just 72 hours after the legal ending of Sinatra's first marriage. Sinatra's career had hit a low and it was through Ava's influence that he landed the role of Maggio in 'From Here to Eternity' in 1953, for which he won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, and which stabilised his career. The marriage could not withstand Sinatra's jealous temperament and Ava's drinking and the couple separated in 1954 and divorced 3 years later. Sinatra never got over losing her.

He Should've Let Larry Cut Him Off

Joe Jackson wants us to think he was a good father to Michael because Michael never "ran around" like the other kids he grew up with. Joe points out that most of the other kids from Michael's old neighborhood "are dead." Unfortunate. Equally bizarre: Joe's attempt at defending himself by pointing out that white people used to beat their slaves. "It was okay for me to whip Michael's ass because my people's asses were whipped by white people." Sure Joe. And it was okay for Michael to take all those drugs because Judy Garland took drugs. Time for you to go away now Joe.

When Dog Love Gets Out Of Hand

The above shoes belong to Mickey Rourke. Squint your eyes and you may be able to make out the words embroidered on them. No, not "I like smacking bitches." Nice guess, but they actually say, "Loki." Yes, the name of Mickey's dear departed dog. Motherfuck, that was what, six months ago now? And he's still in mourning? I didn't even miss my dead parents for that long. Suck it up Mickey. It ain't touching anymore. Now it's just pitiful.

Heaven Just Got A Lot More Depressing

Frank McCourt, author of the relentlessly depressing Angela's Ashes, kicked it over the weekend at the age of...let's say 93 (I'm not bothering to look it up).

McCourt was just another drunken Irish immigrant until he wrote Angela's Ashes, his memoir about growing up in the worst place in the world surrounded by the worst people in the world. It's a good read if you don't mind spending the next week wandering around in a daze, wishing everyone in the world except wonderful Frank McCourt would die.

By the way, I read once that McCourt's students think he was a lousy teacher. That's only because the laws in this country don't allow you to beat your useless fuckwit pupils over the head with a brick when you feel like it. Raise a pint for old Frank...or bash a kid with a coal shovel, whichever strikes your fancy.