She’s not being treated for drug addiction, sex addiction, “exhaustion,” an eating disorder, or any of the usual reasons stars check into the hospital. She’s got pneumonia. Which sucks. Send her a card.
Hey, it’s a lot simpler than her last diet plan, which was to chain a rabies-infected bobcat to her refrigerator.
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For that special someone in your life who needs to know “I’m Watching You From the Bushes.”
Sure, when we do it for money we’re “prostitutes,” but when they do it for money they’re “acting.”
In doll form. So if you want to see her boobies, you’re going to have to brave the toy section, and it’s getting close to Christmas time.
Next life lesson from Usher: how to make a fortune singing the same four notes over and over again.
And I’m happy I slapped that lady in the face when she offered me a million bucks.
Also he’s over Rihanna, and is surrounded by swarms of horny girls. And he has a spaceship and is friends with a talking rock named Garvo.