Bump-It's & Bumper Cars

The poster child for Orangina, Ed Hardy-scented feminine deodorant spray, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and, retarded people, Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi was arrested for hitting a cop car while filming the upcoming season of Jersey Shore in Italy. The unfortunate news is, she was in a car. I was hoping she hit it with the giant black airbag sprouting from her forehead.

Here's a photo of everyone's favorite troll that lives under a bridge leaving her apartment before the accident:


That's actually a photo of Deena who almost fell to her death amidst a crowd of reporters who look very eager to help her. I guess someone threw a used condom past her and she played fetch.

Boys Don't Cry... They Jet Ski

Fat Bad Baby's west coast correspondent, Tamieka, was on assignment in Hawaii when she happened upon Hillary Swank and Meghan Fox rubbing on each other's chonies in the water. She immediately snapped a photo with the T-Mobile Sidekick I LENT to her. ('Mieka, if you are reading this, that shit is not yours to keep!)


UPDATE: Tamieka, my former west coast correspondent, has ruined my chance at winning a Pulitzer (and her opportunity to flex a Sidekick at her aunt's Memorial Day BBQ this weekend) with her negligent journalism. The aforementioned photo is of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez.

Chest Acne in a Pizzeria: Kim Kardashian's Engagement

Last night I was enjoying some pizza with my best friend when he noticed what appeared to be a giant ruby on my cleavage. Shit was a giant pimple/ingrown hair! Because my shirt was too tight for me to button up and conceal, I tried popping it right at the table. Nothing came out and now that shit is so swollen it looks like my hearts coming out of my chest. See where I'm going here? Be patient.

At that very moment, Kris Humphries proposed to Kim Kardashian with a 20.5 carat ring (smaller than my titty pimple). The star of Kim & Moesha's Brother Play With a Brown Boomerang and Keeping Up with Eating Salads and Crying is going to become Kim Hump-frees. Nice work karma. That's the equivalent of me marrying someone whose last name is Eatsklondikebarsintheshower.

In related news, Maria Shriver's saga gets eclipsed as she once again gets screwed by a fat ass housekeeper. (Editor's Note: that's not a pair of sneezing pliers in the top right corner of the magazine cover, it's Maria).

The Obamas Meet [I Don't Know Their Last Name] ... White People?

I grew up in the Bronx, so I know a thing or two about matching your entire outfit to your sneakers. When you grow up poor your only option is to lie to your friends about how much money your parents have, and then spend the little bit that they do have on shit that matches the swoosh on your new kicks. So, since real recognizes real, I was very impressed when I saw that Michelle Obama matched her entire outfit to the Buckingham Palace.


Kate Middleton put on her cold-oatmeal-finest to meet the President and First Lady, but I like to imagine that as Michelle strutted into that room, her dress sounded like this: "TAKE. THAT. Y'ALL. NASTY. MOTHA. FUCKAS!"