Sunday, January 07, 2007

Sartorial Suckers

It's very disappointing that my semi-regular snort at the celebrities features the same overpaid, under-talented, poorly-guided but well-paid mental pygmies over and over and over again.

*Sigh* - so here she is again - Shitney Beers. Apparently she's now in a 'Rocky place' (meaning enforced rehab, plastic surgery and/or ECT hypnosis: You have two children, remember? Underpants are for wearing, OK? Never forget - Paris is Syphilis in Sequins and not to be trusted!)

Fingers crossed that when she remembers her sons and it's time for them to get a tutor, she joins their classes.

Speaking of Syphilis (as per above), here is Ho-toes Hilton with some other venereal wart in my own country, Australia *~shudder~*.

Allegedly she was paid a small fortune (similar to her annual VD specialists' bills) to launch a new beer called 'Blonde Beer.' What is even more cringe-inducing is that she then got to choose some local blonde bimbo to 'personify the beer' (and presumably, Ho-toes) after she got bored with our gorgeous nation and left five minutes later.

At least she didn't surprise us folk down under with reading bi-focals, a turtle-neck or sensible slacks. Here we see her usual stupid sunglasses, 5-thread count's worth of clothing, inappropriate beach sand shoes and a bag shinier and bigger than her own vagina after a big night out.

I've said this before, but it's worth noting again: has Shazza ever had a bona-fide movie 'hit' since revealing her map-of-Tassie in the excremental 'Basic Instinct' that was released before the Boer War?

As with Shitney, she must vaguely realise that she has a couple of kids duct-taped to some chairs at home somewhere, yet still manages to find the time to get her surgeon to tighten the screw hidden in the back of her head to maintain that pointy-faced, Madonna-Alien look before her next outing.

......Unless I'm horribly mistaken and she's instead on her way to find some fresh ink and quills to finish off that daring little 1890s manuscript 'Crouching Camera Man, Hidden Expressway'

It remains a complete mystery to a 1980s/rock lovin' gal like myself as to why Cameron is interested in a weedy little pipsqueak school boy who makes Michael Jackson look like a white-washed 50 Cent gangsta.

This cardigan dress, however, is much more puzzling. Did Drew knit it for her and Cam therefore feels compelled to wear it as a sign of true friendship? Is there a wino short of an army blanket at the local shelter, or is she actively researching her upcoming role as the World War One hospital supply cupboard?

Hmmm. Tara Wee-ed may now have a new set of udders to swing with, but her stomach still looks pretty weird with an evil grin all of its own.

Although it's always nice to see a 'celebrity' (any grade, any claim to fame) with cellulite, it does seem a rather odd choice of clothing to wear if she is in fact off hiking with water and sneakers....

Messica seems about to trip over on her Jimmy's in this pick and looks a tad meatier than usual. More Anna Nicole-Smith than Kate Moss, if you know what I mean....

.... tucked into the entire bucket instead of licking the underside of the diet coke lid, if you get my drift...

.... no longer has cobwebs up her butt, if you prefer......

... whereas this woman (creature? Neptunian?) Cerene Nylon needs to have her chin filed back so that it no longer gets in the way of her mouth and a darned good inhalation of the buffet table.

Then, after her collar bones no longer resemble drumsticks, we can sit her down and issue a very strongly-worded lecture warning re the dangers of venturing out in public wearing nothing but half a kitchen net curtain, two ballet head-bands and Shitney Beer's choice of underwear.

2007 looks likely to be a year of huge surprises, shocks and challenges and the thought of Celine's deflated-balloon-like boobs popping out or getting a flash of the inverted triangle is far too much to bear.....

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