Friday, June 30, 2006


You may have heard Tori Spelling's claims to the media that her family did not tell her that her father, television producer Aaron Spelling, had died last week. Her mother, Candy Spelling, issued this statement today in response to her daughter's accusations:
"We are deeply saddened that, during our time of loss and grief, we are forced to respond to the media frenzy caused by the mean-spirited and surprising comments made by Tori to the press, just two days after the passing of Aaron. As we try to honor his memory with love and respect, the sudden media frenzy she has created at this sensitive time is hurtful and very disturbing... Everyone deals with grief in a different way, and since Tori chose not to be here at that time, we believe she is having a harder time dealing with that loss. We understand how difficult it might have been for her to be here, and, perhaps, more difficult for her after she arrived. Aaron loved both his children with all his heart, and he understood how hard it was for her."
You know, it's one thing to be ugly and stupid, but another thing entirely to have your own mother hate your guts. It goes against nature. Unless, I guess, you are so physically repulsive and incomprehensibly stupid that even your genes can't save you.

I went to grade school with Tori Spelling -- sometimes her mother would carpool us on Fridays -- and I used to pour glue in "Whori's" hair and burn her with a cigarette lighter on the rides home. The funny thing is, her mom never said anything to me about it. In fact, Mrs. Spelling would just turn the radio up really loud and roll up the windows when Tori started crying and screaming. And then she'd smile at me in the rearview mirror and give me a little wink.


Star Jones Reynolds used Larry King as a mouthpiece last night to beg the Godmother not to put a hit out on her and to admit to surgically binding her stomach in order to lose weight. People magazine reports
[Star said]"I will not denigrate Ms. Walters. I have learned from that woman ... as much about television as I did about the law from my mentor, the late Johnnie Cochran." [When asked] whether she'd had surgery to lose 150 lbs... she said only, "Because of my health … I needed a full-scale medical intervention, and my doctors had to step in to save my life."
So Rosie O'Donell was right? That poem she put on her website about Star having surgery was actually a haiku of truth and not the prosaic rantings of a fat lesbian?

I have such an equally proportioned hatred for the both of them. It's like trying to choose sides between the Taliban or the Bath Party. You just hope everybody involved dies in a rain of fire from the sky. And then maybe a majestic bald eagle could swoop by overhead, with an American flag clutched in one talon and a blonde with big fake boobs in the other, circling over a crowd eating apple pie and playing football and and chanting U-S-A! U-S-A!


These are teeny tiny thumbnails* of Courteny Cox pre- and post- nipple slip. I didn't want you to see her nipple up close without having warned you first. It's horrible. It's looking down, and sideways; and it's all pink and floppy like like a nose on a mole (which -- being the discerning journalist that I am -- is included as a point of reference in this post). To view or not to view: it's your decision.

UPDATE: Too late, muthafuckas! I changed my mind. The thumbnails are gone. Now you must stare Monica's nipple in the eye and suffer your own miserable fates. That's what you get for NOT LEAVING FUCKING COMMENTS, you bastards!!!!!

*thumbnails removed at editor's request

Thanks to the Drunken Stepfather for so many gratutious booby shots.


Perez Hilton has a great shot of Pink's sweaty boobies at the Filmore in San Diego last week. There's nothing sexier than under-the-titty sweat, is there? I wish I could frolick in puddles of bosom perspiration and bathe myself in its sweet nectar.

Wait-- no, I don't! I was thinking about vodka again! I want to splash in puddles of vodka. And bathe myself in Matthew McConaughey's semen. Not some whore's booby sweat! That's just disgusting.

Thursday, June 29, 2006


Not much celebrity news to report. So here's a picture of Teri Hatcher, cavorting on the beach in a bikini. For some reason, the beach police didn't arrest her for "wearing a ridiculously small swimming suit while being disgustingly old." The cops tried to tell me that being "being old in a bikini" wasn't even a crime, and that I should put my megaphone away and clean up all that vomit, but I wasn't convinced. I'm pretty sure there's a law.


I think this Jessica Alba tattoo is new. A cute little bow. I guess she didn't dig the "weeping willow sprouting from her ass-crack" design I sent her a while back. Shame -- it looked great on paper.


Us Weekly reports that Law and Order: SVU star Mariska Hartigay, 42, gave birth to a baby boy yesterday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles.
It is her first child with her husband of almost two years, actor Peter Hermann. The baby boy weighed in at 10 pounds 9 ounces and was born a week after his expected due date via C-Section. Hargitay’s father, actor Mickey Hargitay, and brother were at the hospital as well.
Mariska Hartigay is 42? Wow. Those Jane Mansfield genes are no fuckin' joke. She looks fantastic! With a wrinkle-fee complexion like that, I bet she grinds up baby placentas and puts them in her night cream. Those things keep you looking ageless. You might smell like the inside of a uterus on a hot July day, but your skin will look positively radiant.


Get a load of British whore Jodie Marsh at the UK premiere of Just My Luck. Adjectives fail me. She's just out-whored Pamela Anderson, who was completely NUDE in the preceeding picture, which doesn't seem logically possible, but somehow is. I used a formula and everything, and Jodie Marsh's whoriness is: p such that whore-to-the-third-power cosine E=MC sqaured factorial cosine whore.

You just can't argue with math.

I'd like to know where one buys such a demure ensemble. I need something similar -- you know, for special occasions like bar mitzvahs and funerals. I can't seem to find a rhinestone nipple belt anywhere in Jacksonville.

thanks to the spanktabulous The Bastardly for the slutty pics


Pamela Anderson spent yesterday afternoon naked in Stella McCartney's London shop as part of a PETA promotional campaign about not wearing fur and being a big naked slut. I suppose if Pam wasn't always naked anyway, it might've had more of an impact, but good folks of PETA don't strike me as the sharpest tools in the shed. Tools, yes; but sharp, no.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006


Everybody already knows that Star Jones Reynolds' exit from The View was an ugly affair. Star told People magazine yesterday
"My contract was not renewed for the tenth season. I feel like I was fired."
Barbara Walters, the show's creator, responded that she felt "betwayed" by Reynolds' comments on today's episode of The View, adding,
"We didn’t expect hew to make this statement yestewday. She gave us no wawning." Walters then went on to explain that Reynolds had known "fow months" that she would not be returning in the fall, and that the network had given her time to exit the show with "dignity." [The View's coexecutive producer] and I said to hew, 'Handle this any way you want. You can say anything about a new job, you can say anything about a new woad. Whatevew you say, we'll back you up. We will nevew say that your contwact was not wenewed.'" On Wednesday's program, Walters went on to say, "It is becoming uncomfowtable fow us to pwetend that evewything is the same at this table. And thewefore, wegrettably, Staw will no longew be on this pwogwam."

Star Jones must have a death wish. I would never, ever fuck with Barbara Walters. She's like television mafia. Really, you don't make it into broadcast journalism with a noticeable speech impediment unless you've had people killed. And you won't find any other old ugly women on news venues, either. Remember Debbie Matenopolis? The young, attractive blond who used to be a part of The View until she crossed "The Godmother"? I heard Barbara had Martha Stewart and Connie Chung pump her full of lead at a tollbooth on the Jersey Turnpike. "I know it was you, Staw. You bwoke my heawt. You bwoke my heawt!"

Don't ever go against the family.


You know, guys, sometimes we ladies just don't feel like "doing it." Maybe we're tired; maybe we have a headache; maybe we want to stab you in your sleep because you tracked mud in on the carpet and left a pen in your pocket that subsequently exploded in the dryer. Whatever the reason, it's okay to take a break from carnal relations. If you're having trouble dissuading your man, allow me to present today's Wednesday Weekly Top Ten:


10. Audible diarrhea

9. Make sure to use enought toilet paper to clog the toilet after your "audible diarrhea." Walk out and hand him the plunger.

8. Flesh-colored undergarments

7. Six-hour shopping spree at your local mall

6. En route to your local mall, correct his driving, his choice of outfit, and his "loud caveman breathing." And eject whatever CD he's listening to and replace it with your Ani DiFranco Live.

5. Make him hold your purse the entire six hours. Ask him, "Does this make me look fat?" after every piece you try on, even if it's just a hat or a pair of socks.

4. Tell him you find male pubic hair offensive and hand him a disposable razor.

3. Describe your menstrual cycle in excruciating detail; flow density, uterine cramping, unusual color or smell, accompanying gas, etc.

2. As you're unzipping your pants, say "Warts aren't contagious if you douche with vinegar, right?

and the number one way to turn him off:

1. Movie night: Captain Corelli's Mandolin


Get a load of these naked preggers pics of Britney Spears! reports that the photos were taken for a Harper's Bazaar pictorial, but then axed by the starlet because she didn't like the way they turned out.

Once again, I have to say that Britney Spears is a fucking idiot. Print media -- with all its powers of airbrushing and editing -- is probably the only way she should present herself publicly for the next three years. Or at least until she's divorced K-Fed, put her eyelashes on properly, and lost about eighty pounds.


The Associated Press reports that Rush Limbaugh was detained Monday at Palm Beach International Airport for carrying a bottle of Viagra without a prescription. Us Weekly adds
Investigators were still trying to determine Tuesday whether Limbaugh violated a deal he made with prosecutors last month stating that authorities would dismiss a “doctor shopping” charge if Limbaugh doesn’t get arrested for 18 months, among other terms. Limbaugh’s lawyer, Roy Black, said the prescription was written in Limbaugh’s doctor’s name “for privacy purposes.”
What? Old white men have erectile dysfunction? I thought Viagra was for frat boys who got too drunk to really give you the pounding you deserve. But old men? Are they even allowed to have sex? I could have sworn that the government was behind the policy of "mandated castration at 45" to prevent such disgusting injustices on the public at large.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006


It seems you can't turn around today without being poked in the eye by a celebrity nipple. Beyonce's breast broke free from it's Victorian restraints and blessed the audience of Radio City Musical Hall with a nipple on Sunday night. I'd like to know how long it took before she realized it had flopped out, or if she was able to stuff it back in that corset without anyone noticing.

Mother of God, I'm tired. This kind of hard-hitting journalism just takes the starch right out of me! I'd compare to being an embedded journalist reporting from Iraq, but celebrity boobies don't usually go around beheading the people they've kidnapped or blowing things up. So it's probably not the same, really, now that I think about it.

Maybe I'm more like that guy who used to write for the New York Times and got busted for making shit up. That sounds about right. I have the same sort of journalistic integrity he did, and we shared a similar devotion to "uncovering truth," no matter the cost. Come to think of it, we used to huff model airplane glue together on the weekends. And he's been living on my couch for the past four months. What about nipples? Is it Thursday? Where are my pants?

All this thinking makes my head hurt.

Thanks to Perez Hilton and The Bastardly for the pictures


The only pure soul in Hollywood died yesterday. "Eddie" from Frasier headed for that big fire hydrant in the sky.


The world's angriest supermodel is being accused of assault and battery by another one of her maids. Already expected in court today on charges having spiked a cellphone at her housekeeper's head over a pair of missing designer jeans, Campbell is being charged with "employmental discrimination" and "causing personal injuries." People magazine states
The legal papers do not detail the alleged acts by Campbell, but in an April interview, [the maid] told the New York Post that the supermodel... hit her on Jan. 17, called her names and threatened to have her arrested after Campbell couldn't find a specific pair of jeans.
How hard is is to keep up with a pair of fucking jeans? Aren't maids supposed to do things like "clean your toilet" and "make your bed," not "find your pants for you"? Which lucky maid gets the coveted job of wiping Naomi's ass? "I said, FRONT TO BACK, bitch!" *smack* "That's it! You're fired? Where are my fuckin' pants?"


This nipple is hard to make out -- I apologize for the crappy resolution -- but it was the best I could find and it's still a nipple so shut the fuck up you ingrates! Jesus, where was I? Oh, yeah. Nipples. If you look at Pam's right breast, about two inches off-center and inch higher than where a "normal" nipple would be, you'll see it escaping the clutches of the red dress. Why the fuck her nipple is at "Norway" instead of "Ecuador" I just don't know.

Wow, Keira is classy, right? Nothing like a soaking-wet white shirt when you're frolicking at the beach! At least her nipples are in the right place. I'll give her that.

Here's Cameron Diaz, wearing my mom's beach visor and letting "the girls" take a breather. This picture is even grainier than the Pam shot, but the nipple is CLEARLY visible, so you can all kiss my perfectly sculpted bottom.

Enjoy a week's worth of nipples in one glorious post, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood spankcheeks.

Monday, June 26, 2006


Boy George appeared before a New York Criminal Court judge yesterday after failing to perform the five days of community service mandated by his plea bargin.

You may remember that thirteen bags of cocaine were discovered in Boy George's apartment at the time of his arrest in October; however, he avoided the fifteen-year prison sentence for drug posession by pleading guilty to the false burglary charge, paying a fine of $1,000, and agreeing to perform five days of community service to be determined by the court.

After Criminal Court Judge Anthony Ferrara decreed that "raking leaves in a city park" was the designated punishment, Boy George maintained that garishly-painted, cross-dressing former pop stars could not be seen in such public displays of servitude, and that he preferred to work with an AIDS charity instead. His attorney argued on his behalf, saying in all seriousness

[If the Boy George was forced to sweep streets of a park], it would turn into a media circus.
Judge Ferrara then responded,

This is a simple matter. Five days of community service. It's up to [Boy George] as to whether it will be an exercise in humiliation or an exercise in humility. [His] choice.
And what do you think Boy George said to that? You guessed it:
Do you really want to hurt me? Do you really want to make me cry? Do you really want to hu-urt me? Do you really want to make me cry?
Then he spun around with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed.

I pretty much figured that Boy George's entire life was an exercise in humiliation. You know, the face painting, the gayness, the failed musical with Rosie O'Donnell -- all pretty humiliating, any way you cut it. A LOT more humiliating than raking leaves. If he didn't have his face made up like a psychotic geisha-clown all the time, I wouldn't even know who the hell he was, much less create a "circus" around him while he's raking in a park.


My dear, dear readers:

As of 6:00 p.m. EST, you will finally be able to spout your filth freely on Spank Cheeks. I have fixed it so that YOU DON'T HAVE TO HAVE A BLOGSPOT TO COMMENT ANYMORE! No registration, no rules, no nothing. You don't even have to leave your name, if you don't want to; you can post anonymously. I've also arranged it so that you can leave a link to your site -- if you have one and are so inclined -- but it's not required.

So in conclusion, what I'm saying is: You're free at last! You're free at last! Thank God almighty, you're free at last!

Now you fuckers better start leaving comments.


What in the name of Brokeback Mountain is going on here? You know, if Jake wants to disprove those pesky rumors that he's really a gay, he should start by not tossing a strange man's salad in the middle of a public sidewalk. Just an idea. And maybe he should lose the biker apparel in which he's always parading around, his unit neatly cradled in a shiny hammock of lycra.

All he's missing is some mascara and a pair of ladies' pumps.

all hail The Bastardly for the uber-queer photo op


I think the title of this post says it all. This gives a whole new meaning to the term "self-defense," doesn't it? Why else would she be wearing finger condoms?


Page Six is reporting that Britney Spears was completely dumbfounded by the reaction to last week's Dateline interview with Matt Lauer (87 percent of people polled in Us Weekly had less respect for Spears after the chat).

Considering Britney did her OWN hair and makeup for the interview, and festooned herself in see-through "maternity clothes" sans the help of a stylist, I can't imagine how the public found her less appealing than before. She just looked so classy and refined! Like a blonde Audrey Hepburn, you know? Or maybe more like that "Miss True Value Hardware Gunnersville" I saw behind the Dairy Queen when we drove through Alabama. Who, coincidently, was also pregnant, come to think of it!

Page Six continues
So [Britney] attempted damage control. Spears had a photographer take pretty pictures of her - this time with professional hair, makeup and wardrobe. And despite tearfully begging for privacy, saying she hates media attention, and calling the celebrity weeklies "trash" in the interview, Spears then tried to sell the photos and an "exclusive" interview to those same trashy weeklies for $200,000. There were no takers. OK! finally bought the shots and the interview for a measly $5,000. A rep for the magazine declined comment but did say, "Who doesn't love a discount?" Spears' rep didn't return calls.

At this point, I'd say even "Miss True Value Hardware -- Gunnersville, Alabama" is a long shot for Britney. And by "long shot" I mean "completely fucking unattainable, you big fat fatty."

Sunday, June 25, 2006


These are truly some of the saddest-looking boobies I've ever seen. Like Kathy Bates kinda sad.

How the hell does this happen to a nineteen year old? A nineteen year old who's supposed to have breast implants, no less? Maybe Lindsay's rack fell victim to Teri Hatcher's gaffer tape? Or maybe the pull of gravity is four times that of the Earth's where she's standing?! I just don't know! All of the sudden, I feel simultaneously cold and dizzy. Is that what medics call "shock" setting in? Oh, God...

I vaguely remember staggering away from the computer, half-blind and nauseated, knocking over furniture in a myopic attempt to escape the dejected squid flapping out of the side of Lindsay's dress. It took me nearly half an hour of alternating shots of corn whiskey with VCR head cleaner to regain my strength. Moonshine and huffing - the "poor man's panacea", if you will - is perfect for clearing your mind of things like "the memory of Lindsay Lohan's breasts," or "your own first name" and "bowel control." I highly recommend it.

P.S. Nice self-tanned armpit. Your pits can never be "too tan," can they?

an east side shout out to the spankalicious Drunken Stepfather for the Lohan picture


Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban were wed last night at The Cardinal Cerretti Memorial Chapel on St. Patrick's Estate. Nicole wore a Balencgia gown; Keith was radiant in "butter-colored highlights"; and Russell Crowe attended, but didn't bash anyone in the face with a telephone. I think the bride was happy, but the botox has long since waxed the life from her face, so it looked more like she was grimacing in the pictures.

All in all, a pretty boring event, considering the chapel was cliffside and Russell Crowe was a guest. I was betting that alcohol + paparazzi + cliff would spell disaster for Russell, but he must have taken his Xanax, because all he did was break a champagne glass over his wife's head after she tried to tell him he'd had enough to drink.

Spankcheeks is giving the marriage six months before Nicole discovers hubby #2 is also a closet gay, like Tom "I Love the Cock" Cruise before him. And how do I know he's gay, you ask? Easy.

A) That first picture up there.

B) He posed in Playgirl with just a guitar over his wiener. PLAYGIRL.

C) He has more highlights and pomades in his hair than Seacrest on Idol Finale night.

D) He's marrying Nicole Kidman.

Like a moth to a flame, the gays seem inexorably drawn to Nicole. Maybe it's that her frozen expression will never betray them in a televised interview. Maybe it's that she possesses the sinewy figure of a 12-year-old boy. Who knows? I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter why the gays love her. The only thing that really matters is that Russell Crowe is a telephone-wielding BADASS.

Friday, June 23, 2006

IT'S 9-0-2-1-OVER

Small screen producer Aaron Spelling died yesterday from complications of a stroke he suffered earlier in the week. He was 83 years old.

Best remembered for the hit series "Dynasty," "Beverly Hills, 90210," and "Charlie's Angels," he left an indeliable mark on the "super-crappy, poorly-acted, complete-fucking-waste-of-time" television genre that plagues us still through the wonder of syndication. You may also remember him as the father of Tori Spelling, the "ugly horse-faced chick" on 90210.

I think any man who buys his daughter breast implants at the age of 16 should be honored and acclaimed as a great American hero.

Rest in peace, Mr. Spelling.


Us Weekly is reporting that "porn moustaches" are all the rage in Hollywood this week. Why do you think all these guys are sporting moustaches? Because I said they were powerful and made a list.

I control Hollywood.

Ladies, look out -- I'm bringing back the "70's bush" next. Toss out your Nair and your razors and bask in the glory of your luscious pubic manes! Until the next "Top Ten," I bid you adieu.

-- spankcheeks


Wow, those Simpson sisters really love them some plastic surgery! First Jess' trout lips, then Ashlee's hump-less nose -- but this? It just screams "body dysmorphic disorder" and "burn victim." And let me tell you, it's pretty hard to scream at burn victims. Especially if they're blind. It just feels wrong.

Maybe she's LaToya Jackson's long lost albino twin.

INSPIRED or TIRED? for June 18th -23rd

Worried that you're not "up-to-date" with the latest Hollywood trends? Catch up with "Inspired... or Tired?" and learn what's spankworthy for the week of June 18th-23rd.

INSPIRED aviator sunglasses
TIRED Jackie O style frames

INSPIRED tasteful pedicures
TIRED ghet-toes

INSPIRED camoflauge
TIRED Elmer Fudd hunting caps

INSPIRED embroidered flats
TIRED uggs
INSPIRED maternity peasant tops
TIRED maternity prom dresses

INSPIRED anal sex
TIRED oral sex

INSPIRED shirt dresses
TIRED leggings

INSPIRED youthful exuberence
TIRED old people

thanks to the resplendant ZeZe for the ghetto-fabulous pictures


A pervert claiming to be a "celebrity photographer" was arrested on Thursday for hiding outside of a Los Angeles day care center attended by Maddox Jolie. Clint Brewer, 25, was held there under citizen's arrest by the owner of the property until the L.A. county sherriff's deputies arrived to arrest him on charges of trespassing.

NOTE TO SELF: don't hang out in bushes by schools trying to take pictures of children. Unless you want to have all your teeth broken and be spat upon by strangers.

Of course, if you're the kind of degenerate that camps out in the shubbery of a day care, you'd probably like that sort of thing anyway. Sicko.


Models just can't seem to get enough of actor Leo DiCaprio. Just a few short months after calling it quits with Victoria's Secret model Gisele Bundchen, Leo has been spotted "pitching woo" at model Bar Rafaeli.

From Gisele Bundchen to Bar Rafaeli? That's kinda like trading your Porsche for a Peugeot. Sure, the Peugeot may technically be "foreign" and "a model," but nobody works an Ipex bra like Gisele.

Thursday, June 22, 2006


I saw an interview with Pierce Brosnan a few days back, and he was sporting a moustache the size of a Yorkie on his upper lip. That got me to thinking... what were the TOP TEN* MOST POWERFUL MOUSTACHES in history? I made a list for you.

10. Albert Einstein
9. Josef Stalin
8. Earl Hickey (Jason Leigh)
7. Groucho Marx
6. 27th U.S. President William Howard Taft
5. Burt Reynolds
4. Yosemite Sam
3. Salvador Dali
2. Adolf Hitler

And the number one, most powerful moustache in history:

1. Magnum P.I.

* honorable mention Ned Flanders and Frida Kahlo


The last time I saw a demonic grin like the one here on Jessica Simpson, it was on the face of a warty old woman intent on baking Hansel and Gretel alive. I therefore conclude that Jessica Simpson is a witch.

I heard that after the photo op at the T-Mobile Sidekick III launch, she immediately pronounced a curse on Eva Longoria, cackled with glee, and sped off on a broomstick. I can't say for sure that Jessica is actually part of a coven, but I did find some "eye of newt" in her jacket pocket when I was coat check girl at Bistro 45.

Okay, maybe not a "coat check" girl exactly -- maybe more of a "hang out in the coat closet and rifle through people's belongings until the wait staff catches me" kind of girl. Anyway, the only people carrying around eye of newt in their pockets are witches and Asians. And Jessica Simpson is not smart enough to be an Asian.

And, as a side note, there's a very good reason bridesmaids dresses are made of satin: to make the bridesmaids look fat and ugly, so that the bride looks prettier than everybody else. Why anyone would voluntarily wear satin is beyond me. Unless, of course, you wanted to showcase the indentation of your navel like Jessica here, which by the looks of this photo could hold a regulation-sized croquet ball.


I'm going to let you pick who has the better sternum -- Nicole Richie or Kate Bosworth? Nicole gets points for "depth," and Kate gets points for "definition," but I have to admit I'm completely torn.