In events that I simply must make perfectly clear have absolutely nothing to do with anything related to or associated with Scientology or Tom Cruise in any way whatsoever, David Hans Schmidt, the crooked photographer who tried to exhort one million dollars from the poor Cruise family recently, was found clearly and mysteriously dead, dead, in his Phoenix home on Friday afternoon.

Even though none of this has anything whatsoever to do with Scientologists, who love puppies and ice cream, “they” clearly mocked up the obvious murder up to look like a very convincing suicide—so convincing that nobody has realized it was murder yet, including me—in the way that, you know, “they” do. “They”, of course” being anybody but the Scientologists. Who are not watching me. Or you. Right now. Through camera-like particle wave space technology, through your very own computer screen, all day, every day. Swear to God!

According to fortitudinous celebrity news types who have nothing better to do than follow this kind of crap, Mr. Schmidt was under house arrest after pleading guilty to the $1 million extortion plot, involving Tom Cruise’s stolen wedding photos, in which he and Katie had apparently shed their synthetic human skin to reveal their scaly alien bodies underneath or something as part of the horrible ceremony.

Apparently, dark suspicions summoned police to Schmidt’s Phoenix home after the ankle-bracelet tracking device he was forced to wear (and which made him a sitting duck for the terrible outer space technologies of the vengeful Scien…uh, of Persons Unknown) indicated that he had not moved in several hours. Police rushed to the scene after a brief stop at Denny’s for a bite to eat and a cuppa coffee, and when poking his prone and rotting corpse with a stick failed to rouse him, he was pronounced dead at the scene.

“Yup, he’s dead all right,” reported police Captain Johnson Johnson. “And since we didn’t see any evidence of Scientological activity, we’ve pronounced it a suicide. Yup. Musta been a suicide. No Scientologists around at all, so, naturally, were questioning the Mormons. Shifty bitches, Mormons.”

Mr. Schmidt was dead and unable to comment.

by Adrian Ryan

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Kiefer Sutherland, who is widely considered to be among the drinkiest of the Sutherlands, has just been officially charged with something called a “DUI”. This thing “DUI” is from the Greek “Do we?” to which the answer seems to be, well, Kiefer Sutherland sure does. Glug, glug, vroom vroom…screeeeeech! And now he is in so. Much. Fricking. Trouble!

“The city attorney’s office said (it) could put him in jail for more than a year…We also charged him with a second DUI offense within 10 years, which we believe also violates the terms of his probation.”

Kiefer Sutherland in jail? All butt-rape jokes aside, this is perhaps a good time to consider the deeper implications of these events, namely…

IS KIEFER SUTHERLAND THE ANTI CHRIST?

Consider this:

The name Kiefer comes to us from the Egyptian XEPER, a verb that is represented by a stylized scarab. According to certain Satanists who shall remain nameless so they don’t kill me, “Keifer” (Xepher) is a word which “heralds the Aeon of Set, the Eternal Prince of Darkness!” Take into account that the name “Sutherland” is, of course, the last name of the mean teenage witch in that 1970’s made for TV movie Midnight Offerings about two teenage witches, a really evil one played by Little House on the Prairie’s Melissa Sue Anderson (the blind sister! I KNOW!) and a good one played by one of the whiney sisters from Eight is Enough, and they use their unholy powers against each other in shop class to battle over blond boyfriends with telekinetically hurled hammers, and, well, there’s your answer. To the question. Is Kiefer Sutherland the antichrist? And that answer is no. He’s just stupid drunk.

Tom Cruise is the antichrist.

In a completely unrelated story: Tom Cruise is reportedly building a ten-million dollar alien busting super bunker in his Colorado home to protect his “family” (of aliens) from the imminent return of their dark overlord, Xenu. No one is really much surprised at this point.

By Adrian Ryan

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Elton John, who insists on being called “Sir” no matter how fancy his fancy pants get,  has defended his honor fiercely against the horrid accusations of some even prissier and easily offended European types that he is a nothing but a filthy, foppy child pornographer. According to the accusations, Elton donated an allegedly naughty, naughty photograph of two frolicking pre-pubescents to an art exhibition, but he insists, dammit, that the image is a true nose above board and hands above sheets object d’arte, and it has already been featured in countless prominent galleries across the globe to prove it. These include including The Michael Jackson Jesus Juice Gallery, The Paula Poundstone Memorial Musee, and the House of Pancakes where NAMBLA hangs out for coffee after meetings. So there.

Elsewhere: Angelina Jolie, the richest and most generous waterbed-lipped tooth fairy in the world, now desperately regrets spoiling her first son Maddox by slipping huge sums of money under his pillow in exchange for his lost baby teeth. “Most children get a quarter, or a dollar. Five, max. But Maddox? He was getting fifties,” reports a source so sourcey it can’t be sourced. “The kids at school began knocking his teeth out, and then beating him up again the next day, for the money. He was like the ATM for the entire First Grade. But when he ran out of teeth, well…the little bastards took his kidneys! I don’t know how, they’re just kids, but I’ve heard that the organs have been sold on the Chinese black market. Maddox woke up from his daily nap in a bathtub full of ice, and the words “Call 9-11 or you’ll die” were written in crayon on the mirror.” True story.

Actress Salma Hayek has slammed reports that she’s getting really fat by having a baby. And speaking of babies, some crazy racist has threatened to kill Halle Berry’s newborn for some strange “race-related” reason, which doesn’t make one God damn bit of any sense at all, considering Cat Woman (now THERE’s something to hurt somebody over) and the fact that Halle Berry is the whitest woman in Hollywood, now that Michael Jackson has flown the chicken coop. Over. 

By Adrian Ryan

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In a bizarre and murder-colored event that experts are calling “an act of psychotic septuagenarian sex-rage”, George Clooney and his utterly ignorable girlfriend were mercilessly mowed down on their gay little moped as they sped carelessly down some road in New Jersey (for Christ’s sake) by none other that George’s 3-million-year-old ex Facts of Life co-star, TV’s Mrs. Garret!

The star suffered a rib fracture and grazes in the accident and Larson, the “girlfriend” or whatever, broke two toes. Both were taken to the Palisades Medical Center for treatment and have since been released, shaken but grateful.”

“That crazy bitch could have killed me!” said Clooney before limping away into the night and whining like a little bitch. Mrs. Garret is presumed dead at the scene.

“The vehicle Mrs. Garret was driving exploded when she hit them, and she caught fire,” according to police. “She ran around screaming for a bit, then slumped down on the curb, and just laid there, steaming and making crackling noises.” Unfortunately, the Fire Department was on strike at the time of the accident, and cops are pussies. “We’re just gonna wait till she cools down a little to see if she’s okay. We’re hoping for the best.”

Mrs. Garret (not her real name, which no one remembers) appears to have stalked Clooney for years, reports a sourcey source that’s probably sourcing as we speak. “She’s obsessed over Clooney forever. She finally just snapped, stole a car, located Clooney and his girl, and gunned for them. Simple.”

Mrs. Garrett and George met on the set during a taping of a later episode of Facts of Life, just before the point in the series that Mrs. Garret “got married” and was replaced by “her sister” Cloris Leachman, but after the point when it became impossible to ignore Jo’s screaming, grinding, painfully painful bull-dykishness.

“There was an episode, backstage, years ago,” said Tootie (her real name) in a street side interview immediately following the attempted homicide. Coincidentally, Tootie, now a mother of 14, lives in a box on the curb of the New Jersey street in which the attempted murder took place, and came rushing out with no pants on to get some desperately needed attention when she head the terrible crash. “Well, she used to hit on him, back then. It got pretty ugly. Mrs. Garret was older n’ a bag of dusty dirt even way back then you know, but that old woman had the pulsating loins of a she-lion in serious heat—you know what I’m sayin’? And when she’d been drinking, which was always you know, she’d get aggressive. We’ll George wasn’t having any of that ole woman junk, he thought he was already too damn good for that, and she just went crazy, smashed up half the set, roaring like an animal, crazy. They finally calmed her down by convincing her that George was gay—it was easy, everybody mostly thought he was back then anyway. It took three days to calm her down enough to cart her away. He barely got away with his life.”

The show replaced her with Miss Leechman soon after, and she’s been in an hysterical coma ever since. “Then one day last week, the new girl left the TV in Mrs Garret’s room on one of those gossip programs,” reports Lydia Cabrera, an LPN at Mrs. Garret’s nursing facility, Shady Acres of Shady Acres Assisted Living in Omaha, Nebraska. “She was warned not to– again and again!—and a story came on about Mr. Clooney and his girlfriend. Well, she started to make this low grunting, growling noise. It was the first peep out of her in almost twenty years, it scared the Jesus out of me, let me tell you! Then I listened real close, and she seemed to be saying, “Noooooot gaaaaaaaaay……noooooooot gaaaaaaaay.” Then she reached up and choked me until I passed out. She was gone when I came to. ”Police discovered among her scant few possessions what appeared to be a personal sexual device shaped in the likeness of George Clooney.

According to Senior Shady Acres Administrator Mandalay Jones-Syzjymik, “I ain’t touchin’ that!” Mrs. Garret then hot-wired a car in the staff parking lot and went on a country-wide search for Clooney and his girlfriend, in what is now speculated to be the first incidence of reverse gay bashing in recorded history. “There was an episode, backstage, years ago,” said Tootie (her real name) in a street side interview immediately following the attempted homicide.

Coincidentally, Tootie, now a mother of 14, lives in a box on the curb of the New Jersey street in which the attempted murder took place, and came rushing out with no pants on to get some desperately needed attention when she head the terrible crash. “Well, she used to hit on him, back then. It got pretty ugly. Mrs. Garret was older n’ a bag of dusty dirt even way back then you know, but that old woman had the pulsating loins of a she-lion in serious heat—you know what I’m sayin’? And when she’d been drinking, which was always you know, she’d get aggressive. We’ll George wasn’t having any of that ole woman junk, he thought he was already too damn good for that, and she just went crazy, smashed up half the set, roaring like an animal, crazy. They finally calmed her down by convincing her that George was gay—it was easy, everybody mostly thought he was back then anyway. It took three days to calm her down enough to cart her away. He barely got away with his life.”

The show replaced her with Miss Leechman soon after, and she’s been in an hysterical coma ever since.

“Then one day last week, the new girl left the TV in Mrs Garret’s room on one of those gossip programs,” reports Lydia Cabrera, an LPN at Mrs. Garret’s nursing facility, Shady Acres of Shady Acres Assisted Living in Omaha, Nebraska. “She was warned not to– again and again!—and a story came on about Mr. Clooney and his girlfriend. Well, she started to make this low grunting, growling noise. It was the first peep out of her in almost twenty years, it scared the Jesus out of me, let me tell you! Then I listened real close, and she seemed to be saying, “Noooooot gaaaaaaaaay……noooooooot gaaaaaaaay.” Then she reached up and choked me until I passed out. She was gone when I came to.”

Police discovered among her scant few possessions what appeared to be a personal sexual device shaped in the likeness of George Clooney. According to Senior Shady Acres Administrator Mandalay Jones-Syzjymik, “I ain’t touchin’ that!” Mrs. Garret then hot-wired a car in the staff parking lot and went on a country-wide search for Clooney and his girlfriend, in what is now speculated to be the first incidence of reverse gay bashing in recorded history.

Jo, who never worked again (except that one time, something made for TV, I don’t remember either) could not be reached for comment. And Natalie was busy eating pie. Over. Jo, who never worked again (except that one time, something made for TV, I don’t remember either) could not be reached for comment. And Natalie was busy eating pie. Over.

by Adrian Ryan

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Recent communications have been received from abroad that seem to indicate that Courtney Love and her new water bed lips are apparently dating and/or kanoodling (whatever the fuck that means—honestly, do you think Courtney Love kannodles? Maybe all over the floor when she’s drunk—which is always) with world famous British drug addict/walking open sore Pete Doughtery.

The pair were photographed touching, trying to smile at each other through bulbous collagen lips, and straining to keep their red, piggy eyes open long enough to look longingly at each other.

“It’s kind of like watching two fetal, hairless newborn rabbits lick the blood and placenta off of each other,” according to a leading expert on the behaviors and rituals of famous drug addicts in love. “It’s stomach turning, but also kind of sweet—in a way that makes you want to kill yourself.”

Sweet or not, NORAD has declared DEFCON 1.

“We think they are too toxic to actually breed—but their combined sexual fluids,” according to Lieutenant Colnl. Mitzhach Brody. “If unleashed, they could burn a hole right though the earth’s crust and finally reach groundwater, where it could poison and destroy all life on the planet. Or maybe it would just make a really awesome liquid drain declogger. Either way, if they get too close to each other, we’re prepared to respond with a full nuclear strike.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

In a possibly unrelated story: European smack dealers have reported a record spike in total sales revenues for the month.

by Adrian Ryan

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If a mime falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it… is the mime still totally annoying a little creepy?

PARIS, France (AP) — Marcel Marceau, who revived the art of mime and brought poetry to silence, has died, his former assistant said Sunday. He was 84.

So really… whats the deal on this one? When a famous mime dies, is a moment of silence redundant? Would a moment of speaking be appropriate? Either way, would anyone get it?

I’m really lost on this one.

Please advise.

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The fight between Elizabeth Hasselbeck and Barry Manilow began earlier this month at the so-called VMAs I think, when they spatted over their mutual ex-
girlfriend Pamala Anderson’s refusal to appear on The View or something. And now the creepy old raisin and little blonde uber bitch are preparing to settle their big hairy beef, Vegas style!

A source reports that Hasselbeck and Manilow’s respective “people” have given world famous fight promoter Jimmy LaPalma Dinero Castorini Gandolfini LaPalma the green light to book the Wintergarden Celebrity Kickboxing Arena for what’s being billed as “The Greatest Live Fight Since Freddy Kruger Took On Mothra”, and tickets are already selling in record numbers.

“This is a total K-O deal here, it’s all or nothing,” sas LaPalma. “They’re gonna throw blows and trade kicks and sweat and hang all over each other and sweat until one of them is knocked out or passes
out or dies. The winner don’t get nothing, but the loser has to fuck Rosie O’Donnell. The whole thing is really kinda erotic when you think about it. Except the
Rosie O’Donnell part.”

“I’ll kick that old faggot’s ass!” said Hasselbeck. e

“Where am I? Is it pudding time?” said Manilow.

In a completely unrelated story: Kidd Rock and Tommy Lee confirm rumors that they are secret gay lovers! “We knew it was love the moment we first looked into each other’s butt holes,” reports Kidd Rock in a recent Rolling Stone interview. “Mmmm”, said Tommy Lee, as some Kidd Rock sperm dribbled down his chin. The couple met on The View.

In other news: Madonna has officially and irrevocably turned into the Jewiest Jew Who Ever Jewed. She met this week with the Prime Minister of Israel (the one
that isn’t in a coma), to whom it is reported that she said, “Oy! Yentl, Yentl, Barbara Streisand! Kvetch, kvetch, goym! I hate Hitler SO MUCH, so very Jewish I am!!” to which the Prime Minister responded, “Oy! You should eat something already…this is from healthy, such skinniness?” The very Hebrew pair of them then rushed off, hand-in-hand, singing “Dradle, dradle, dradle!”, to plot all the world’s wars. Mel Gibson is, understandably, furious. And drunk and insane. Maybe. Probably. Maybe.

Definitely.

by Adrian Ryan

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Breast implants? They were not enough. Collagen injections? Not enough. Liposuction of the hips, thighs and stomach, God dammit, was not enough. A $10K procedure just to lift the sagging skin on her knees wasn’t nearly enough either, and kind of disgusting to boot. Even offloading that old sack of swaggering Republican shit Bruce Willis was. Still. Not. Enough. To freshen. Demi. Moore’s. Career.

Indeed, Demi Moore is older than dirt, and man, she’s pissed about it. Pissed, pissed, old dirt. Please make a note of it.

“When I was 20, it was easy to get a job. I’d just flash my prefect tits, wrap my perfect legs around the director, and bang his fucking bones apart. It was especially great if they were pedophiles—as most are, you know— because from many angles, I looked like a small boy. But…but now…now…” Demi said in a recent interview, and then almost broke down in tears, and would have for sure, had there been any moisture left in her body. “Now I can’t even get arrested in the movie business. Casting directors call me “ma’am”, and when I try to seduce them, well…one of them even threw up a little in his mouth. I’m so old a disgusting! I just want to fucking DIE!”

In the last several hundred years, Demi Moore (whose name is from the Sanskrit meaning, “Sort of a Wasteland”) has spent billions of dollars on teams of nutritionists, personal trainers, yoga teachers, botox-injectors, kick-boxing coaches, personal chefs, high colonics, Satanic Priests, Crest Whitestrips, Horse Whisperers, injections of liquefied goat fetus and the blood of virgins to maintain her hellish youth, but gravity, ever implacable, as taken it’s terrible toll.

“Don’t just fucking stand there! A virgin! QUICK! Somebody bring me the blood of a fucking virgin!” she said recently, as parts of her sifted to dust.

Ashton Kutcher was busy feeling like a trapped trophy boy and could not be reached for comment.

by Adrian Ryan

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“Paris Hilton wants to adopt four blond-haired girls.

The hotel heiress, whose close friend Nicole Richie recently announced her pregnancy, reportedly wants to travel the world to find disadvantaged children she can give a home to.

A source told Britain’s Closer magazine, “Paris has been saying, ‘You don’t need a husband to have babies.’ There are babies in orphanages around the world, and she’s hoping to find four girls with blonde hair and pretty eyes to whom to give the Hilton name.”

The 26-year-old blonde, makes no secret of her desire to become a mother, wants her future children to follow in her footsteps and become famous.

The source added, “She’s been telling people, ‘I want a brood of little mini versions of me. I’ll raise them to be the most famous women in the world.’”

Paris also wants her daughters to become models and is planning to launch her own line of children’s clothing.

The source said, ‘She’ll design a line of baby clothes. She sees her kids modeling from a young age.’”

Astounding!

Paris continued: “With the right guidance, they’ll be able to achieve things that I could only dream of, and at an earlier age, too! I guarantee these little munchkin- heiresses to pump out several sex tapes before they even know what boys are. They will have the cutest cocaine and alcohol binges this side of Sunset Blvd.

[…] they’ll be in and out of rehab before their tenth birthdays. Their apologies to the countless of innocent people they harm will be the most glamorous and hotttt qualities about these soon to be Hollywood harlots.

I’m sure that I’ll end up backstabbing them, sleeping with their boyfriends, giving them herpes, and tricking them into donating their functional organs to me out of pure jealousy, but that’s the risk you take as a mother… I think I’m ready for motherhood,” Paris concluded

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OJ Simpson took a much deserved break from the life consuming task of “Looking for the real killer” of his wife, as he solemnly swore to do… to commit a little armed robbery in Sin City.

And lets be honest here… Why wouldn’t he? What could possibly go wrong with bringing a few guns and some friends to bust into someones hotel room to confront them, slap them around a little and steal their shit?

I mean really?! Surely those racist police learned their lesson when they tried to interfere with his innocent and free spirited double homicide… and they aren’t racist enough in the year 2007 to get involved in someones harmless and fun little armed robbery. Anyway… It’s Vegas BABY!!

LAS VEGAS, Nevada (CNN) — Former football star O.J. Simpson will be held without bail after his arrest on robbery and assault charges, police announced late Sunday.

by Adrians Well Photographed Vagina

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