Forget this genetic forecasting nonsense, you want real scientific achievement to better the lives of women, look at the new girdle technology available to the ladies. The complex constrictive elements employed to fit Khloe Kardashian into this dress simply were not available just a few years ago. It’s like when NASA says we will land a man on Mars knowing that at some date in the future the technology to allow for human interplanetary travel will be invented. There’s a relatively predictable discovery curve. Still, I guarantee you nobody in 2008 saw Khloe Kardashian ever fitting into this dress.
It’s not fair that Khloe Kardashian got fired from her X-Factor hostess job simply because she’s an annoying talentless big-boned twat who looks like a melting wax statue on camera. Khloe really needed this gig. Without it, she’s left to prattle her greeting card level slogans on Twitter, wait for Lamar to come home and bang her with his eyes closed, and secretly meet with teams of investigators she’s hired to find her real daddy. That’s not enough for a woman as deep and rich as Khloe.
As if real life didn’t kick Khloe in her elastic waist bands hard enough, it now looks like Jennifer Love Hewitt is coming onto the show. Yeah, she’s better looking, more talented, and actually sort of knows how to sing, but can she carry a piano on her back while making sweet butt love to the first man who tells her how pretty her eyes are? Nay. Khloe got robbed.
If a dude shot this peekaboo bikini stalker video of Kendall Jenner, we’d convene a meeting of the HOA to figure out how to drive him out of town. But it’s far more sinister than that. It’s Kim Kardashian and Khloe Kardashian, like two cunning witch sisters eying their more attractive taller younger slender half-sister and realizing that she’s about to pown their cauldron. You don’t steal fame from a couple of wily fame whores without a smart plan, and smart plans aren’t Kendall’s thing. If you watch closely you can see Khloe sprinkling SENSA® over her baby half-sister in anticipation of The Consumption.
Or so her sister Khloe would have you believe. Khloe finds it ‘disgusting’ how people are rudely focused on Kim’s blowing up since pregnant. Somewhat conveniently, Khloe doesn’t find it so disgusting to expose the intimacies of herself, her husband, her sisters, little half-sisters, babies, friends, and innocent bystanders on TV in order to turn a buck. The Kardashians can also fake that all for cash too. So I guess what Khloe’s really saying is that it’s disgusting to make fun of her sister for free, but if you’ve got an Amex Black, you can donkey punch Kim while calling her the Hindenburg. It’s all good, so long as your card clears.
Cathy’s Kids, a foundation [Lamar Odom] started in 2004 after losing his mother to stomach cancer, is being accused of not giving a cent to cancer research in the nine years it has been operating. — Yahoo! OMG
Yeah, there’s your problem. When Bill Gates says he’s going to fight Malaria in Africa, he buys 10 million vials of vaccine with his Amazon Plus card and ships them direct to the heart of the Congo for immediate injection. When Mother Theresa said she was going to help the poor in Calcutta, she handcrafted thousands of lean-to’s out of nothing but human fecal matter and devotion. Lamar and Khloe and fighting stomach cancer, not so much.
So where has the raised charity money gone? Some to Lamar’s sponsored AAU basketball teams in L.A. and N.Y, and some to pay a ‘management’ salary to the best-man at his wedding to the Cloverfield Kardashian. Now there’s a big fuck you to cancer.
For her part, dutiful wife and consumer of planets, Khloe Kardashian, continues to raise money for the cancer charity that gives no money to fight cancer, hawking her mayonnaise stained worn garments on Ebay. Go buy something. The kids needs some new high tops.
Of course, I kid. Khloe probably has a monster gash buried beneath her flesh-colored asexual chub-containment Spanx. It’s right below the talking skull and cross bones with the query ‘Ye come seekin’ adventure with salty old pirates, eh?’ tattoo. Still a wardrobe malfunction is a wardrobe malfunction, even when it could kill a boner half a mile away.