My Conversation with Kiki.

To celebrate my newfound alliance with Yeeeah!, I'm going to start the week off with storytime, featuring none other than Abby's most hated celebritard, Kirsten Dunst– who I am 90% sure that I met in a chatroom as a teenager.

The year was 1996; right around the cusp of when "the internet" became a feature of online services like AOL and Prodigy, and that will be important later. My family was a subscriber to the latter, and being the teenage social leper I was at the time, spent a good deal of time in the Prodigy chat rooms.

On this particular day, I was milling around in my chat room of preference, when all of a sudden some asshole in the room starts going "DOES ANYONE KNOW KIRSTEN DUNST?"

Since apparently, no one knew or cared who Kirsten Dunst was, the person (I can't recall what screenname was used) just kept typing the same thing over and over, in caps, (of course) until I finally said, "Will you SHUT UP already?! No one fucking knows who Kirsten Dunst is!" Keep in mind this is all paraphrased, because we're going back over a decade and I'm pretty sure cursing wasn't even allowed in the chatrooms at the time. Ahhh, the age of innocence!

Now that I had gone and taken the bait, the person instant messaged me stating, "Well, I'm Kirsten Dunst!" to which I responded something mean and snarky about why I should give a shit, and blah blah. It was then that Kiki satisfactorily revealed that she was THE Kirsten Dunst, of y'know, like That Vampire Movie and then proceeds to rattle off a laundry list of other roles she had played including guest spots on ER, Sisters and etcetera.

At the time, the internet was a shadow of the behemoth it is today, and websites like IMDB simply didn't exist yet. So I didn't really understand how this person was getting such detailed information, although the more she tried to prove it to me, the less I even cared. She even went so far as to give me her phone number, which I didn't call since it was allegedly a California number and I would have gotten my ass kicked for making a long distance phone call like that. So after about 10 minutes or so, I grew tired of the little charade and signed off, not giving it much additional thought.

Fast forward to a few months later. Summertime. What happened next I remember very clearly– I was sitting outside on the deck of my family's above ground swimming pool. My sister subscribed to the usual round-up of teenybopper magazines, and I was leafing through an issue of Seventeen where I found a tiny, one page Kirsten Dunst interview. As I read, Kirsten brattily told the magazine how she and her friends enjoyed frequenting chat rooms to screw with people, at which point I proceeded to have a total Colbert-esque "NOOOOOOOO!" moment. And I have hated that assy little fang-mouth bitch-face EVER SINCE.

In conclusion, as much as it has dismayed me to witness Kirsten's rise to superstardom over the past decade, I find comfort in photos of her looking like a skanky piece of trash, like the one seen above, which are published daily by gossip sites who seem to loathe her as much as I do.

Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the Lead Pipe!

If you're like me, you're dying to know what killed Anna Nicole Smith. Was it suicide? (Maybe) Drugs? (Probably) Howard K. Stern? (Getting warmer) Bear Attack??? (Hmmm....)

But we won't know until, at earliest, later today. Although if her son Daniel's death is any indication we probably still won't know 5 months from now. So for now, here is a theory posted on Spankcheeks from a few weeks ago. This rumor can only be fueled by Anna's untimely death. I love conspiracy theories!

It's gonna be a helluva long Friday... So feel free to discuss!

Rosebud.....

First of all, obviously this isn't a gossip site. We've got enough of them out there already, and people who are better at it then me. But I have in the past, made exceptions to express bemused fascination over the life and loves of Britney Spears.

• We all laughed when she married the loser and got fat.

• Then, we all laughed at that loser when she divorced his babydaddyin' ass and maybe even secretly hoped for a triumphant comeback.

• The triumphant comeback, as it turns out, had something to be desired. Namely, underpants.

• With each photo of Britney becoming progressively more horrifying than the last, we're all now inexplicably rooting for the loser.

The latest ubiquitous crop of photos to pop up online show Britney during a shopping trip to Target. Now clearly I'm not a celebrity, and I don't have photographers on my ass 24/7 like a pack of vultures. However, even in own my "little people" way, I still don't:

A.) Shop at Target to begin with, or
B.) Go out in public looking like this.

I look nicer dropping a Netflix envelope in the mailbox just in case I happen to cross paths with one of my retired neighbors. But that's just me. I'm sure there's plenty of non-celebrity types who go out in public with stained up shirts and the hair a mess.

So aside from the fact that she dresses this way knowing damn well it's going to be plastered all over the internet before she even gets home with her Michael Graves toilet paper, there's just one thing that really, really bothers me about it: The lipstick. Why, Britney? WHY?? If you're gonna go with the sloppy look, just run with it. Adding lipstick to the ensemble just screams out "Poor Tranny" or "Escaped Mental Patient." I just don't understand.

This is going to haunt and torment me; and be responsible for endless sleepless nights. I just know it.

So You Think You Can Backpedal

This just in! Michael Richards: Not A Racist! No, he was just pissed because those guys were being such jerks! If it was white people heckling him he probably would have called them stupid honkey cracker-ass motherfuckers! Jeeze... Some people take everything so seriously.

OHHHHHHHHH, SNAP! (Part 2)

So long, K-Fed! Don't let the door slam in your stupid, untalented, vaginal-bearded face on the way out!

Last night I arrived home from work, jittering with glee over the just-heard news of the Mr. and Mrs. Spears divorce. Mr. Litelysalted, whose knowledge of Kevin Federline is encompassed by whatever he overhears while I'm watching The Soup, was understandably less enthused. He was also confused about why it was so funny, and asked, "Well isn't he famous now anyway? Doesn't he have his own music career?"

I considered this for a moment. Yes he does have his own "music career" depending how liberally you want to use the words "music" and "career." But he is basically just a joke, kind of like William Hung only unlikeable. Also, William Hung knows he's a joke, and I think he still sells more records than K-Fed.

As a tribute, I leave you with this Vag Beard performance. Enjoy it while you can, because I promise you appearances like this are about to become extinct!

OHHHHHHHHH, SNAP!

'Nuff said.

Ashlee Simpson is disgusting.

Clearly, I'm not an Ashlee Simpson fan. She's an untalented attention whore and poser. Her horrible music and horrible singing makes me want to set myself on fire. But in spite of everything, I did at least think she used to be cute, in a Fraggle Rock sort of way.

This is just scary though. And sad. Inexplicably, she was already very popular. In the logic of "it ain't broke why fix it," what would posses a chart topping "pop singer" to go to plastic surgery lengths to make herself resemble an aging Playmate? I mean, there were so many things wrong with Ashlee Simpson, such as her creepy family, botched "live" performances, bad PR, the very fact that she can't sing. But her appearance was the least of her worries. If she wanted a makeover, she should have just dumped her family and music career and gone into acting or something. Now she's just a worthless whore with a big plastic face.

Update!!! Uncanny! At this rate Ashlee has about 10-15 good years left before her nose literally falls off her face! It's practically science.