Derober

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Nope. I’m just an ass. I call this tit slaloming. And it’s all the rage in the Ukraine. With some luck it will be an American sport by the 2012 Olympics in London. The sport takes uncanny hand to eye coordination and a tit intensive attitude–aka, the ‘winning way.’ Training can be grueling as well. It includes (but is not exclusive to) groping reps, nipple tweaking, breast half-piping, milk showers, and the infamous boob grind–my personal favorite, just FYI. So when all hope is lost in your life just remember there may be light at the end of the tunnel. Or at least some big ol titties.

Halle Berry’s breasts have their own ecosystem

I know we’ve all seen the gratuitous Halle cleavage before…but never such an extreme angle. She improves the image of pregnant women everywhere.

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John:
The indian giver proposed to his fiance, Victoria Secret model Selita with a huge engagement ring. Then after they broke off the engagement, Cannon took the ring back only to use it again to propose to Mariah Carey. I have to imagine this is the sort of shit you just don’t pull with Mariah a.k.a. Biggest Diva on the Planet.

Right now Maria is in her gold plated bathtub surrounded by an entourage of gay bff’s and toy dogs, crying her botoxed eyes out, feeling like the sloppy seconds she is.

Meanwhile, Nick isn’t picking up his cell because he’s at Ray Ray’s Pawn Shop trying to make this shit right. He can’t decide between the rhinestone or the cubic zirconium. Decisions, decisions.

UPDATE: At Derober, we asked ourselves, ‘Of ALL the women in the world today, who would be the worst one to pull this stunt with?’ And goddamn if the answer isn’t Mariah effing Carey! We just can’t stop laughing over here.

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Darby Gunpowder:
Bootcamp. The word alone conjures negative feelings. Fat people go to bootcamp, shit-head kids go to bootcamp, convicts go to bootcamp…Katie Holmes goes to bootcamp. This can only mean one thing: the ounce of human left in her is trying to escape the evil spell put on her by the Scientologists. She’s rebelling.

Here’s how I think it went down:
Poor Katie went bat-shit crazy when she found out she was being shipped off to Xenu Bootcamp. The “others” gagged-n-bagged her and shot her full of Clorox Bleach to induce coma. After duct-taping her lifeless, half-human body to a dolly, she was carted off to a waiting vehicle disguised as a plumber’s van.
The interior of the seatless van is covered in newspaper clippings, hair and finished crossword puzzles. There is a doctor present. When they finally arrive at the compound under cover of nightfall, there are men waiting outside dressed in potato sacks, and Nixon masks (not affiliated with our Bob “the bitch”). The men dropped their flaming torches to once again restrain Katie who is projectile vomiting from the Clorox-come-down. A quick needle to her neck does the trick.
Oddly, the compound has no visible front door, but the group vanishes into the fog. The only lights coming from structure are from tiny, frosted windows in the cellar. The only sound is muffled Xenu-jibberish.
Katie wakes. Slurring her speech, she asks the lone guard for water -she gets a boot to the face. Darkness.
The duration of her stay at bootcamp consists of electrical shock therapy, water torture, strobe lights and hourly quizzes about all 26 stars and 76 planets of the Galactic Confederacy -except Teegeeact, or as we know it, Earth. No need to learn about the planet they are leaving soon.

36 hours and no food or sleep later, she has passed Zenu bootcamp. As Katie is carted back out of the compound, still slightly zombified, she passes a room where she sees her beloved daughter Suri with 2 men in black lab coats. They make eye contact, but Katie is too weak to speak and closes her tear-filled eyes. Suri is silent and remains expressionless.
Suri watches Katie being loaded into the plumber’s van through a window. She turns to the men and asks, “Targentram vernagjgas erresx sinlotandrerv?” The men nod yes to the question and secure the wig back onto Suri’s head, covering the screws. Suri half-smiles.

For more Tom/Katie/Suri Scientology bullshit - Click Here

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John:
Britney Spears was working out at Bally’s in LA yesterday. She left the locker room in a towel to grab a drink of water. Boy, she must have been thirsty. But then we called Bally’s and confirmed that there are, “multiple water stations in the women’s locker room.”
Look at the those people huddled in the back. Christ, that’s comedy. You know exactly what they’re thinking… ‘I can’t wait to tell my friends about this. God, she really is crazy. I wish I had a camera.’

Britney now joins an elite group of crazies including Rachael Ray, Guy Who Thought it was a Pony, and Crazy Eddie (Sandusky intramural midget toss champion).

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John:
I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be canceling my subscription to Rolling Stone. These girls have no association with music other than Tranny Montag made some sort of musical abortion a few months ago. I once heard Lauren Conrad call a flute a “music stick.” Swear to God.

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