The Gospel According to John

Madonna, we need to have a talk

Y'all, I'm becoming more concerned about my girl every day. The crazy continues apace.

Here she is at some Kablahblah charity thing she did with Gucci or somesuch or whatever who cares. Just look at the pictures.

Gorgeous no?

Girl, go the fuc* aHEAD, right?!

Angelic almost, wouldn't you say?

Sidebar: I applaud Madge for allowing Mini-me Lourdes to remain a child. She is after all only 4 or 11 or whatever. But when do you suppose M will finally allow Lola to do away with her Latina unibrow? I'm hoping that Mrs. Ciccone-Penn-Ritchie will opt for 13, seeing offical teenager-dom as an appropriate time to instruct one's daughter on the finer points of feminine hair removal. The lighting in this photo is doing Lola many a favor, cuz that unibrow is actually positively Kahlo-esque and has a mustache to accompany it.

Back on task. Remember how Madge had a few small upgrades did over the holidays, as evidenced by her being photographed outside a plastic surgeon's office with two black eyes? And also by the fact that she is almost 50 and looks in her 30's and I don't give a flying fuc* WHAT she says there is no way she looks that good because she takes such good care of herself and this is NOT the first time she's had surgery, only the first time she's gotten CAUGHT?

Well all I got to say is: Mayday, mayday!

Wipe your face Madge, your facelift is showing!

I realize it's partly lighting. Obviously, multiple flashbulbs are going off simultaneously and the lighting is harsh and unflattering and in normal circumstances, we probably wouldn't notice. But WOW. I mean, that shi* is OBVIOUS up in here. For those of you who are alumni of my alma mater, be honest: is there or is there not something ever so slightly the-early-stages-of-Professor-Joyce-Ramsay going on here? Plus, she looks like she has two assistants standing behind her holding onto two strings that are stapled to the skin in front of her ears. They have a mule-team hooked up to that shi* and Rocco's back there fuc*ing bull-whipping them. Yah mules, yah!

And is it me, or does she also vaguely have that standard plastic surgery "Who are you people and what is this beautiful place?" glassy-eyed dreamy expression? Ya know, like Phoebe Price? But she also looks like she's thinking "Ow. Shi*. Ow, the muleteam is pulling too hard this time. Keep smiling so the photogs don't notice anyth--Fuc*! Shi*! Bollocks. Blimey. Ow. Bloody hell!" I imagine the moment this picture was done being snapped, she whirled around, backhanded one of her assistants for letting Rocco have so much fun with the mule tazer, then turned back around to answer questions from reporters like nothing had even happened.

Anyway, I'm terrified. I need her not to devolve like this. Why Madonna why?

None of that is as terrifying as this, though:

First of all, all of these people are in one place at one time, but more importantly gaaaAHHHHaahhhh!!!! KATIEBOT IS GONNA FUC*ING EAT EVERYONE!!!!

Seriously, look at all 14 feet of her. Look at her face. You can see it in her eyes. Bloodlust. She knows we know too. Look at her. She knows we know she's fixin' to eat some folks and she LOVES IT.

Rosie knows too. Look at her face. She's getting a feeling of impending doom.

Who do you think Katiebot'll eat first? Odds are on either Rosie cuz she's meatiest, or Lourdes because she's probably the most tender. Children are tender, this is a well-known fact. This is the main selling-point of veal.

She'll try to eat Madonna last, but bitch'll get filled with mommy-rage superstrength and beat her back, then dump champagne all over her circuits and short her out, saving the day, and Kablahblah.

Katie Holmes is YETI. I had no idea.

Katie Holmes and the Mystery of the Marathon

Apparently, a LOT of people think Katie Holmes faked the NYC Marathon.

I've been hearing rumblings about this for weeks, but haven't really read up much on it because...well, who cares?

But today is an incredibly slow day at work (as evidenced by my tons of posts) and in a fit of boredom, I clicked on a link from another blog and read a little about this.

And now, I'm hooked, because this is the most bizarre thing I've ever read.

Y'all, for serious? KATIE HOLMES TOTALLY DID NOT RUN THE NYC MARATHON!!!!!! She faked that mess!!! YOU KNOW she faked that mess!!!

Check it out here, and in depth here.

Basically, here's a summary. First, take a look at this picture.

A marathon, for those who don't know, is 26.2 miles long. 26.2 miles. That's a LOT of running, right? It (supposedly) took Katie five and a half hours to complete the marathon, and that's considered not that great. FIVE AND A HALF HOURS OF CONSISTENT RUNNING.

Are you with me?

Okay. So take a look at Katie up there. Notice anything fishy? (Other than the obvious. Zing! Oh get over it. Sophomoric vagina jokes are never not funny).

She's not sweating. Not a drop. Not on the shirt. Not on her skin. Not on the hat. Nothing.

According to marathon experts, when you run a marathon, you sweat so much that you also leave salt deposits on your clothes. Totally believable. I've left salt deposits on a t-shirt in a 90-minute Bikram yoga class before, let alone a 39-hour run.

And yet, our high priestess of Xenu has no salt deposits either.

Notice her prominent, erect nipples.

Had she run the marathon with no protection, so say the experts, her nipples would be bleeding like WHAT from chafing. Like our friend Ed Helms from 'The Office' here:

Relax, it's fake. It's for an episode of 'The Office' wherein  Michael Scott hosts a Dunder-Mifflin 5k Fun Run to raise money to help with Meredith's medical bills because he mowed her down in the parking lot and shattered her pelvis.

HOWEVER. The bloody nipples thing apparently happens if you don't cover your nips up with some Band-Aids, cuz they get to chafin' from rubbing up on your shirt for the 597 hours you're running through the streets of Manhattan, which is something the impetus for which I will never understand.

And, furthermore, I can personally vouch for this. When I lived in El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles, whose name was later shortened to Los Angeles, I used to do a lot of hiking in Runyon Canyon, a canyon park by my old apartment. I would hike all the way up this fuc*ing mountain and then run all the way back down it and I have the fuc*ed up knees to prove it.

Just for fun, because it was--and still is--one of my favorite places on earth, let's take a quick photographic tour of Runyon Canyon, hmm?

Ooooohhhhh....

Ahhhhhhhhh....

Shzzdklfpoiuphhhwwwahhhhhhhhhhhh!!....

I know right? Also, a quick word about that third picture. This is a perfect example of the different effects West Coast living and East Coast living have on your psyche. Cuz when I lived in LA, if I had happened upon this bitc* meditating on a bench looking out over smog, I woulda been like "Wow, what a great place to come meditate...Such a good idea. Totally fetch." Or whatever.

Now, I look at that shi* and I'm like "Look at that dumb whore fuc*ing meditating in front of a bunch of smog. What a fuc*ing asshat." Granted, that's not even smog, it's ocean mist (it's the wrong color to be smog). But still.

Anyway. So even the longest, most difficult  hike in Runyon Canyon takes  at most, if you're fuc*ing poking along like a big fat fatty (or a tourist), 90 minutes. And after 90 minutes of hiking that shit with my t-shirt rubbin' up on my nips? Those mutha fuc*as HURT y'all. For real. They'd be all red and sore and shi* like I had been nursing a bunch of infants all day. Like I was a fuc*ing WET NURSE up in there. No joke. So on the advice of a marathon-runner friend, I started wearing Band-Aids on my tatties--I believe 'pecs' is the technical term--and voila: no chafed baby-nursing nips of fire.

So I'm just sayin' that if 90 minutes of hiking can chafe some nips, you can imagine what Katie's 5.5 HOURS OF RUNNING would do to some unprotected milk nozzles, and she very clearly has no band-aids in place because her teets are very demonstrably erect and accounted for (and also, while we're staring at them, lop-sided), beneath that busted sweat- and salt-free tank top.

There are also NO PHOTOGRAPHS of Katie running. At the exact time she crossed the 10k checkpoint, there were TONS of photos taken and Katie's fool as* doesn't show up in ANY OF THEM. This is very easily explained however, if she is, say, either a vampire or a hologram. Plenty of people are convinced she's a robot, so I don't see either option as that big a leap of the imagination. Except she's clearly out in daylight. So she's probably not a vampire. But she could still TOTALLY be a hologram.

YOU KNOW DAT BITC* A HOLOGRAM!!!!

Then, there are these mysterious "running partners" whose times when matched against Katie's, and the fact that the numbers affixed to the front of their shirts aren't found in the Marathon's database, suggest that they were running this shi* for her.

And finally, a mere few hours after the Marathon, Katie's batshi* ass went to a movie premiere with Pastor Xenu Tom Cruise, teetering about on stilettos down a red carpet. THERE IS NO WAY SHE COULD DO THAT AFTER RUNNING 26.2 MILES. Folks finish a marathon and then fuc*ing COLLAPSE.

I mean, y'all, I was down there that day watching this mess--if I were home I could post pictures, but y'all don't give a shi* anyway--and there were some folks down there built like fuc*ing BRICK SHI*HOUSES--I mean, I'm talking like Men's Health cover models and mess--who were HOBBLING around the Upper West Side looking like they was fixin' to DIE up in front of the 66th St. Barnes & Noble. Your body doesn't just fuc*ing move on with its day after running 26.2 miles. Your body be like "Fool! I ain't playin' witchoo no more. I know you 'bout to SIT THE FUC* DOWN and put some muh-fuc*in' EATS UP IN HERE."

However, I don't know that these rules of biology apply to robots or holograms. Someone wikipedia it and email me. In addition to 'robot' and 'hologram,' you could also try searching under 'cyborg.'

So after taking all of this in, my question is simple:

WHAT THE FUC* IS WRONG WITH KATIE HOLMES?!?!?! WHO FUC*ING FAKES A MARATHON?!?!

Bitc* crazy.