[Actually, I added a bit to ACT I, first. So here goes the added lines to ACT I, and then the whole of Act II. Sorry in advance if it sucketh... and sorry for the myriad typos...]
ACT ONE:
Scene XI: The London headquarters of Victoria’s Secret, Inc. A female executive is on her back fighting to defend herself from a rabid animal. The rabid animal is Miranda Kerr. Miranda is wearing a super-long black knit dress and a cropped brown leather jacket. Her hair is in a bun. She has a strangle-hold on the female executive’s neck.
The woman begs to be freed.
Female Executive:
Please, Miranda. You’re going to k-k-ill m-m-ee.
Miranda:
And yerr going to k-k-ill m-my kuhrear! Y wuznt I inn the
laitest Vikthoariuh’s Seacrit cummershull?
Female Executive:
We gave you that shitty gig at The Grove this afternoon in compensation. It’s not my phault you’re so unphotogenic!
Miranda:
Whut did yoo cawl me?
The female executive:
Unphotogenic! You looked bad on camera,
okay? No one gives a rat’s ass about you!
If that fact is worth killing me over, then so be it.
Miranda:
It is. It so is!
In her fury, oil from Miranda’s slippery skin falls into the female executive’s eye.
Everybody, please send a birthday prayer to Aliers’ and Akeelers’ fake boyfriend that I stole from them. Actually, now that I think about it, I think that they initially stole him from me. But I stole him back! Woe to the vanquished.
His name is Ben Barnes. I think he is 28 years old today. Hollller.
Mirandingo’s own phans are laughing at the low-budget phuckeries that are her Victoria’s Secret catalogue poses and outfits. One said the dingo looked like a “housewife”, which is an insult to housewives all the world over, actually. Oh well. Here’s Gunnedingo trying to look sexy but FAILING (even though there’s no rain around). The captions in the photos belong to the slags at the fashion Spot.
P.S. I am currently working on the dingo tragic play. Should be up in a day or two. Or three. Laters.
There’s a link on the MSN homepage for the “top Worst 25 Album Covers Ever” or something. Naturally, I clicked the link because I am all about the ugly-shiz! What a disgrace, though. These album covers aren’t really all that ugly. Just really, really, painstakingly weird! They are the stuff sick dreams and nightmares are made of.
The ugly album covers are on display at the Fullerton Museum Center in Califronia.
Filed under: Kate Moss — Anners Scribonia @ 12:49 PM
The Daily Mail is hell-bent on publishing the most awfulest pictures of the rexy goddess that they can find. They are phat, jealous haters to the nth degree and I, quite frankly, am getting sick and tired of it.
Nevermind this picture. Katers will be back to her lovely old self just as soon as you remember to pour libations at her nearest altar (a picture of Katers stapled to your wall with a lighted candle underneath it will do), and leave out the bones from your last carnivorous feast.
The gods and goddesses that populate our universe must not be forsaken.
Holena Cougar-Mellencamp would like the world to know that she is still Ms. Thang. To prove this, she disrobed for Citizen K(ougar) magazine in France.
Nice ugly-ass hairdo.
I only bother with Holena when she googles herself and has her friends google her and then has them trot down here and leave stupid comments on things I posted 408 days ago.
Julian Gorda Cola Plenti has a real video out right now. Stella linked me up because she’s cool like that and so on. I figured there was some Cola Gorda news stirring because I noticed that some old and dear Cola Gordian-era slags had stopped by the blog: fair-weather bytches the lot of ‘em. I tease.
I often wonder about the Cola Gordians. Whither have they gone? Are they happy? Are they eating three square meals per day and taking their Phlinstones vitamins?
I also noticed on Tiffers’ facebookage that Cola Gorda plans to tour in support of this album. I’m cool with the San Francisco or L.A. dates. We should all show up with our t-shirts.
Back to the video. It’s for the song called “Games for Days”. I can dig that. Cola looks surprisingly comfortable on film. I don’t want to shag him, though, or anything.
Mirandingo Nobody(Kerr)s lives in fear of falling on the catwalk because catwalks are full of “slippery” surfaces and so on. Her phucking greasy-ass phace is a slippery surface so she ought to be used to slippery shiz by now; that’s how dumb she is.
Sayeth dingobrains: ”Evree catwok is difrint. Sumthymes they are really slipperee. Sum have glittuh that’s a cupple of inchiz thick [just like her phucking skull]. It gets all up in yer toez. It’s a little bit messy – glittuh flying everywhere.”
In the phucking wetodded article I just read, the dingo is also waxing philosophic about the hardships of being a model. Seems she and other models have to deal with such very challenging obstacles such as foul weather! Yep, being a model is tantamount to being a bloody Ice Road Trucker or something: “If it raynes we still have to wurk and that can be mizeruble. It’s hard to look sexy in the rayne,” sayeth dingobrains.
Someone needs to tell Gunnedingo that it’s not all that hard to look sexy in the rain if one is actually sexy to begin with. This fact is being illustrated by none other than Princess Caspian herself:
Milla Jovovich is finally going to get married to that tall director dude after being engaged for six years and creating a child-person with him. Milla says: “We’ve been together for a long time. We’ve talked about marriage a few times, but we were pretty easy about the whole thing. . . What decided it? Having a baby. That pretty much decided it. So we don’t have a little b*****d running around.”
Thus, the only bastard in the house after the impending nuptuals will be her. She’s a bastard for saying ‘bastard’ in that context! What an unfortunate choice of word for Milla to have used. I’m upset with that word. Oh well, she’s still my homegirl.
By the way, this picture is not a still from the set of Dazed and Confused! This is Milla in real life at LAX being hard-core hippie-fabulous.
Gary Oldman is a hot old man bytch. My weird phake romance with Mr. Oldman started when I was a wee lass in like 9th grade or something. My sister rented Romeo is Bleeding and I sat through it because the dude was all sorts of fascinating. After that, he stole my heart when he said that he “didn’t have time for this mickey mouse bullshiz” in The Professional.
