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I've never been more distraught in my life; the only woman in this entire world that would be good for me has been snatched up by this John Stamos look-alike. To make matters worse this ass-hat of a groom just has to rub salt into my wounded heart: "I tell you guys, that night was amazing, I am truly happy that I waited until marriage to lose my virginity". For some reason, every time I look at her I think of professor Keenbean from Richie Rich. I don't know exactly why either. Did Michael McShane get a sex change? Unfortunately, there isn't enough information on his current lifestyle to know if he morphed into this ogre of a woman. In this single picture I've managed to bring Turk tears of joy, sadness, and anger all at the same time, sounds remarkable doesn't it? That's because she's remarkable.
Never has the title of a movie been so deceiving. I don't know what is worse, the fact that this woman has a pedo stache or that her face looks like a leather punching bag. Oh wait! That is no woman, that is a very special breed of celebri-troll. They tend to show up in movies which are really just parodies of their own lives. I know what you are asking yourself, and no, it is not rare to see these types out donning sequin shirts and what could be more plastic surgery than Joan and Melissa Rivers combined.
Look at those crow's feet.
This is the very essence of your typical run of the mill, animal balloon creating, bridge troll. Don't let his vomit green hair, or his crab claw necklace fool you; having to buy a balloon giraffe from this mutant in order to stop your kid from profusely crying is only part of his plan, his trick is making you realize that his stench was the culprit from the beginning. What treasures does he keep in his over sized, hand-made, fanny pack? If you must know, it's full of Barbie doll heads and a wide variety of used condoms he's collected from his sleepless nights in port-o-pottys. He is the mascot to every bad acid trip anyone has ever experienced.
Photo Credit to Whitney Bennett, Pike Place Market in Seattle
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It's ok kiddies, it is safe to come back out and play. It appears as if this ghoulish creature has ascended back to his home planet. Long gone are the days of jesus juice and sleep overs. No longer do children need to sleep with their bedroom door locked at night in fear of the boogieman. It's just too bad the circus will never be the same. Fare well Jack-o...your eccentric life style and fascination will children will not be missed.
I have encountered quite possibly the most beautiful creature I've laid eyes on in the last five-to-ten minutes. After courageously scouring the internet for the worst of the worst in our humanity, I came across this he-she. Her home land? Mobile, Alabama; I'm sure of it. She spends her time making grilled-cheese sandwiches via clothing iron (she's an innovator folks, she doesn't need a frying pan or a skillet), and debating whether or not she'd like to view highbrow entertainment (Judge Judy, or Cheaters) available by only the finest public television provider, most likely the WB; all while smoking the same Marlboro light. Mortisha, I feel that I can speak for Turk and myself, when I say; we're waiting for you baby, keep that mustache pressed right.
Holy Santa Clause shit, what a wreck this gentleman is. Grimace (see picture below) has really let himself (itself?) go when he entered the new millennium looking like this godless jezebel. There are only a few things we can imagine that are worse than an evening with Tiffany Pollard: having your dick slammed in a steal doorway, the Holocaust, and of course the dreaded A2M (ass-to-mouth). Granted, there's only one way of knowing whether or not Mr. Pollard has the jeweled belly button, but we'd rather stay HIV free.
Remember when Bruce Vilanch was a famous personality on Hollywood Squares? Neither do we, but this blond bombshell was tearing up the scene in the mid 1970's. Where is he now? Eating Oreo's he found in a dumpster under the I-94 overpass.
