I don’t know what the hell Hilary Duff is doing here, but that bottle of vodka I had for breakfast this morning is telling me that she’s about to plunge her hand deep into the chest of some guy who really hates mustaches and successfully pull his heart out before the damn thing stops beating. An act that really isn’t that surprising since it’s as easy as breathing for most bitches.

Oh, did I say “bitches”? I meant to say “witches”. Like the fat lesbians that hang out at my local Pizza Hut all day, playing Pac-Man on that tabletop console that was commissioned back in 1981. They, too, like to wear black and even refer to themselves as Wiccan, which I believe means “witch with a fat ass” in Dutch. Unlike Hilary, however, they’re heart crushing/ripping out behavior is limited to laughing at me when I ask them out or dumping a bucket of pig’s blood on me at the senior prom. Cunts.

Oh, did I say “cunts”? I meant to say “fucking cunts”.

According to several sources with nothing better to do, Nicole Richie apparently collapsed last Wednesday afternoon while shooting the fifth season of “The Simple Life” in Malibu. This marks the second time in less than a month that she has taken a nosedive on the set and will most likely die if it happens again since third time’s the charm.

From Female First:

“She was taken to her trailer immediately. But she came around, so the crew didn’t call an ambulance. She spent the rest of the day in her trailer and left Paris to complete the day’s filming.”

Nicole, 25, is also said to have had trouble “walking and speaking clearly” while filming the fifth series of her reality show with close friend Paris Hilton.

Series co-creator Jon Murray said: “There were a couple times when Nicole felt a little woozy and she sat down for a moment, but we continued within five to ten minutes.

So when Nicole Richie collapses, I wonder who goes over and picks her up before she chokes on her own vomit. My bet would be either the first guy who throws rock against paper or the first little girl in the neighborhood who jumps at the chance to make a quick shiny nickel. After all, it’s not like you would need two strapping young men like Andrew McCarthy and Jonathan Silverman to pick her up and carry her from one hilarious misadventure to another. Manpower like that is usually reserved for fatties like Calista Flockhart or Kelly Ripa. This is Nicole Richie we’re talking about here. You could fart and blow her clear across the room if you’re not careful. Which is probably why she doesn’t party with Paris Hilton anymore. That bitch can get gassy, especially after a long night full of beers and blowjobs.

Editor’s Note: Don’t worry, longtime readers. I haven’t forgotten about the promise I made to both of you back in September.

If I was a man of God (and just so we’re clear, I’m not saying I’m not…that stupid), I’d take one look at Lindsay Lohan here and immediately offer my condolescences on the death of her son Jesus. And then, of course, I would ask her if she was free to spot me at the gym or crack the main safe in the rectory since she’s wearing those cool gloves with the fingers cut off. Not that she would want to do any of that, mind you, since the rest of her outfit seems to scream “I’m much too busy gangbanging and hitting Whitesnake concerts to help you pump iron or retrieve child pornography.”

Editor’s Note: See all that melted snow around her? It was two feet high before she stepped out of the van. That, my friends, is how hot Lindsay Lohan is. Remember that the next time you see a picture of Lindsay and fail to get an erection. It’s not because she’s an ugly freckled mess, but because her hotness is making your penis melt.

It’s official: Angelina Jolie has completed the adoption process once again and is now the proud mother of a 3-year-old Vietnamese boy named Pax Thien (which means “peaceful sky” in Latin & Vietnamese or, more appropriately, “one lucky motherfucker” in English).

From People:

Jolie’s rep says she took custody of the child on Thursday in Vietnam. They will remain in the country for about a week while the child’s American passport is processed, the rep says.

The boy had been living at the Tam Binh orphanage outside Ho Chi Minh City ever since he was abandoned at a hospital as a baby, according to adoption officials. Shortly after he arrived at the facility, staff attempted to locate his birth parents, but to no avail.

As expected, Angelina Jolie is collecting children faster than ever now. She’s gone from adopting one child in 2002 to adopting two children and having one of her own in less than two years. The last time I saw a pattern like this, I was watching [insert the title of any movie, television show, or documentary about serial killers here].

Personally, I give it about five more years and about twenty children later before her compulsion really kicks into high gear and she’s flying over impoverished nations dropping nets over large groups of people to adopt. And let me tell you a little something: it won’t matter if you’re a toothless 80-year-old man, a toothless 8-year-old or a cactus (obviously toothless) – if you’re under the net, you’re a Jolie now. Or, if you’re lucky, a Jolie-Pitt, or, if I’m lucky, a Jolie-von Stroheim. Or maybe, just maybe, a Pitt-von Stroheim. Oh yeah, I bet you didn’t see that last one coming.

Editor’s Note: By the way, when Angelina truly loses it, you can bet her adoption procedures are going to look a lot like this:

Now that Justin Timberlake is no longer playing Batman to her Joker, Cameron Diaz has been out looking for a new man to torture since December. Early on, it looked like pro surfer Kelly Slater could be that man, but since I have not seen any pictures of them together since January, I can only assume that he grew tired of her relentless bitching and his body is now buried somewhere in Honolulu with 89 stab wounds.

But fear not, Cameron Diaz fans (all one of you), because it appears that your idol has found a new man to annoy these days: Jude “Dr. Coke” Law, her co-star from “The Holiday”. As you can see, when Cameron is in love, there is no such thing as boundaries. No such thing as locks on the bathroom door. If she wants to gaze into your ear and give pet names to the moles on your face as you look off uncomfortably into the distance for help, that’s what she’s going to do. Because she’s Cameron Diaz, god damn it. And she’s got a gun pointed right against your ribcage so “just smile and make it look like we’re having a good time, Jude, and we both might just walk out of here alive.”