Reports coming out of dead-eyed Katie Holmes’ camp claim that demented dwarf Tom Cruise hasn’t seen his daughter Suri in over a year. Since he owns his own plane, a couple helicopters, and four rickshaw boys from the Canton province, it seems unlikely he’s been unable to find transportation.
Read all about Risky Business’ shitty parenting. (TMZ)
Martha Hunt is topless in a building just for you. (Egotastic)
I have pretty much every Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell high minded missive tattooed on my sleeve of awesome celebrity insights. I remember at the beginning of this year when the two headed vegan Bell-Shepard hydra bitch announced a boycott of all magazines that show pictures of celebrity kids. Jennifer Garner and Halle Berry and I think that woman who became a man but still had a baby on Oprah joined the protest, asking the celebrity magazines to refrain from taking candid photos of their kids. Outlets like People magazine felt obliged to pen tortured explanations about how they’re parents too and work really hard to make sure kids are never exploited within their pages. Obviously, there are rare exceptions of newsworthy events or when print subscriptions are plummeting and you need a cover story on Suri Cruise looking fucking adorable as ever. Also, if you pay the parents a shit ton of money for their kids’ pictures, it’s cool. It’s noted as the Kardashian Exception under law.
I used to feel sorry for the children of celebrities for being visually exploited in this manner. Now I realize that large middle aged women need porn too. If perusing photos of Suri and North and Nahla and all the other kitschy commercially named rugrats keep these same women from overdrawing their checking accounts to buy cute owl-ornaments on QVC, so be it. These children are doomed with or without the long distance exploitation. Why not let Betty from Ames ventilate her privates as she reviews what famous preschoolers are wearing to the summer parties. If Dax and Kristen weren’t so inherently more right than other people, this might just be open to debate.
I like to think of myself as a parent to all the world’s children. Kind of like Willy Wonka or Hillary Clinton or a very ambitious androgynous authoritarian, so either of those two previously mentioned. I understand that Tom isn’t around to do this kind of thing. Plus his cleansing supervisor has advised him that any sort of heated physical altercation could snap him right back to cock. Katie’s too guilt ridden to provide the proper stick to her offspring. Way too fucking much carrot. I’d help out. I’m gentle and giving with the left hand, but I serve cold justice with the right. That’s mainly due to the tendonitis in the left. I want the giving part to be painful to remind myself of the true cost of generosity. I hesitate to think of the consequences of Suri reaching adulthood without any sense of consequence. In the very least, the Jews and the Mexicans will likely be disintegrated when her death star is fully operational. I’ll mop up all the half-boiled hemoglobin with your angry letters about how spanking is abuse.
The last time Suri Cruise flipped the bird to photographers, her suck ups in the media were quick to call it a mistaken hair twisting hand gesture. This time, what? She’s hailing a cab? Working her way into a raised fist for Mandela? No, that’s definitely a big bird flip off from the seven year old. I’ve committed to never calling Suri Cruise a little bitch like paparazzi members have in the past because I think it’s unfair to label any kid a twit when their parents have fucked them up so very well. But someday that little bitch is going to flip it toward a cop or a Gambino crime family member and suffer a beating worse than the time she told her dad she didn’t believe large doses of niacin and rubber suit jogging had cured him of his gay.
Suri Cruise melted down on the set of the film Miss Meadows where Katie Holmes was shooting a wedding scene. Suri may just be seven, but she knows that every time her mom marries, another spawn of Xenu’s Intergalactic War Dragons is born. To prove her point, Suri welled up tears made of a corrosive acid and shot fire balls out of her mouth, leveling the entire set. Though it was on location in Cleveland, so nobody really noticed.
Yeah, it seems all but certain that by no real fault of her own Suri Cruise is destined to grow up to be one of history’s most insufferable privileged women. Still, you don’t start calling a girl a bitch at six. Especially when your job is to stalk children. Did you not learn anything from Brandi Glanville’s talking tampon string about judging others? Grow up, paparazzi.