It’s like my mom always said — subtlety is for pussies. That’s why you should always remove your g-string using only the heel of your lucite platforms and take lots of bird’s-eye pictures of your own tits and post them on the internet. Coco: because waving a red flag in front of your vagina is just a little too cerebral!
The only thing I know about Phoebe Price is that she loves having her picture taken and that she seems to be famous for nothing other than gallivanting around wearing the fugliest outfits. That, and her weird joker grin makes me think she may have sex with you, and then kill you. Or kill you and then have sex with you. Oh but that’s nothing. Just wait until she lays her eggs inside your body to act as a food source for her larvae, until the little buggers are mature enough to pop out, don tacky outfits and start posing for pictures of their own. I saw it on National Geographic before. It was called, The Reproduction of Attention Whores. True story.
Today’s Name That Celebrity: Big Fat Ass Edition is a freakin’ cake walk. And I mean that literally, as in “How many times a day does this stupid bitch walk into Krispy Kreme for more cake donuts?” I’ve been huffing glue all afternoon and even I got this one. One final hint: she probably smells like the Colonel’s secret recipe and Colt 45, or whatever it is black guys’ ball sweat smells like. I don’t really know. I guess I could always just ask your mom’s upper lip. Zing!
The big reveal after the jump…
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