And only because I feel contractually, if not psychically, obligated to do so, I give you today’s bit of Taraoism from this week’s Taradise:
“I wish all the mean people, if you want to be mean to each other, just buy a country together and blow each other up. Then we’d have no terrorists left. Like, don’t kill innocent people for no reason. It’s not fair. We love everybody. We’d even like them if they said they’re sorry. It’s not fair that innocent people are getting hurt. It makes me sad.” [pouts]
And she continued on to say, “.. and we’ll have another country for all those skinny bitches who are always stealing my drinks, and like, another country just for, no, wait, oh, oh, I know… Another one that just has Red Bull and Jager and we’ll go there to do Jager bombs and you guys can all come cause you’re soooo cool…” It was at this point that she passed out and her head slammed into her margarita.
[Gridskipper]
Every night, when I’m having trouble falling asleep, the only thing that brings me comfort is that I know that somewhere in the world Tara is flailing around drunk having a better time than I can ever imagine, making me feel better about all my embarassing drunken exploits. It’s with these visions dancing in my head that I fall soundly asleep, knowing that if I’m lucky enough, when I wake up, some estute interwebber will have provided me with pics of this wonderful woman doing what she does best.
Apparently here, Miss T was at a county fair or a pig farm by the looks of her huge red rubber shit kicking, wading boots. And to top it off, she doesn’t even look drunk. Definitely a few dozen pounds heavier, but sober nonetheless. That’s too bad, really. But like I always say, a day without Tara… Enjoy
[More Pics At IDontLikeYouInThatWay]
As an official Tarasite™, I feel like I must first warn you, the shockwaves of this stunning announcement will be felt for months, and some may never recover, but the news is in. Tara Reid ‘s gargantuan lopsided bags of flesh on her chest are indeed artificial. I realize that this may come as a major shock to you only if you’re blind or a complete moron or I suppose Tara herself. I think the only reason why she’s decided to come out with the truth is that she just found out. I imagine she went without a drink for a couple hours and as the fog cleared, suddenly realized that she has been carrying around these 20lb silicone monster melons for the past few months and thought, “I should, like, tell someone about these, huh?” Then she slipped on a bottle of vodka and knocked herself out cold on a Red Bull can.
Tried to wade through Wild On Tara/Taradise over the weekend. Thought maybe this could be the show our drunk asses were waiting for. As much as we obsess on the drunken antics of Ms. Reid, actually seeing them in motion was kind of disturbing and sad. I ended up watching the show in fast forward and even then, I could still feel the Tivo giving me “that look.” You know, that look when you drunkenly Tivo “So You Think You Can Dance” or “You’ve Got Mail.” So, therefore, no recap, but since it’s Monday and we still love to highlight our dear Tara, here’s a couple interesting Tarasites that popped up over the weekend. Enjoy.
-Lou
1. Tiny, scared shitless dog.
2. Huge, Fugly boobs popping out of your dress.
3. That wonderful, “I think I just had sex” hairstyle.
4. That blank, cracked out stare.
5. The smell of Tommy Lee seeping out of your pores.
6. How about the simple fact that a 6 pack of Zima and a rented Hummer and I know I could do the dirtiest of dirty to you.
I Heart You, Tara.
-Pic snagged from those wonderful bastards at Bastardly.
