Dear Windowlicker,

Someone just tried to post the following comment on my blog regarding the Nutjob clan:

Okay first of all why does Kristen spend so much time with a known Lesbian who has admitted she wanted to seduce Kristen? Does Kristen enjoy this lesbian attention? Kristen also threatened Britney who is a lovely young woman from a good Christian family. Kristen is so Jealous of Britney it is pathetic. Kristen is also good buddy's with Ragan Fox. I have heard about his blog and he is an uncouth, disgusting homosexual. No mother wants her son hanging out with a woman like Kristen and her questionable morals. I agree with Hayden's family Kristen comes from the streets. Hayden comes from a loving christian family. They both need to go there separate ways.

To the asshat who wrote this filth,

Today is your lucky day because I'm going to do you a huge favor. Get excited now, because I think this is a pretty big deal that not a lot of people in your IQ bracket get to experience. Now, I'm just going to go ahead and assume you have a fireplace. Actually, it's probably a pit in your backyard with festering pig remains in it, right? Nevertheless, it'll do for this little project.

Ok douchenozzle, go to your local Piggly Wiggly or WalMart or whatever outlet supplies really sharp and pointy cooking implements. Something like those things you cook shish kabobs on will work perfectly. Go ahead and get a whole mess of 'em. I'll reimburse you. It'll be fine.

When you get back to your sweaty little hole in the wall, go ahead and put your Klan robes away because I don't want them catching fire by accident. When they're safely nestled in your closet (the one with the Confederate flag hanging on top of it), take your pretty new razor sharp metal thingies, some matches, and go out back to the smelly fire pit you used to cook that baby deer you shot last weekend. Get a fire going - a nice good size one. You might want to read the instructions on the box of matches in case you forgot how to light one. I know how quickly that common sense stuff just eeks out of your head.

When you've got some nice pretty orange flames shooting up to the sky, go ahead and stick your shish kabob holders in there. The last thing I want is for you to get some unfortunate infection. An infection coupled with the Rabies that has clearly made you mentally "off" can only end badly. Trust me on this one.

Once everything is all sterilized I want you to take your sizzling hot pokers and one by one jam them into the following places: one in each eye ball, one in your spleen area (that's the lower left part of your chest windowlicker), one in your navel (if you can find it), and one really far up your asshole. Don't be shy at all. Just jab them in there real good. It only hurts for a second. I swear.

At this point you probably have one or two pokers left. These are the special ones. *claps hands* It's so exciting, right? Take one and say an 'Our Father' to it. As a religious peson, you're gonna need Jesus right about now. Tell Him how sorry and wrong you were for daring to utter homophobic filth on my blog. Apologize for polluting the Earth with your ignorance and stupidity and promise Him you'll do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

You should be crying at this stage in the game and since your eyes are most likely stinging from the salt and the blood, let's go ahead and put you out of your misery. Take that hot poker you've been praying to, open your mouth really wide, and jam it as hard as you can in the back of your throat. As you're probably a tenacious little monkey resembling a hard to kill mold or fungus, chances are you're still alive and kicking. Stand yourself right next to your fire pit, stab that last poker forcefully into your temple, and, if you'd be so kind, fall straight into the pit.

I'll go ahead and sprinkle your ashes at the place they empty those Port-A-Potty's. I want you to be comfortable amongst your kinfolk and I think a hot festering cesspool of shit is exactly where you belong.

Love and other indoor sports,

Colette Lala

Momma Nutjob Takes Down Vegas!

The yawn inducing season 12 of Big Brother may be but a faint distant memory in the cavernous recesses of my mind, but the gossip lives on! Delicious, creamy, velvety, fairy fluttering gossip. Grab your gin tumblers and a bucket of popcorn and get ready for some bitchassness! Let's recap, shall we?

OK so over at the Bitchy Network I've been posting all sorts of lovely nuggets about the Vegas Bash - everything from All Stars 2 alliances being made to BB alums getting so trashed they missed their charity obligations to a PopTalkWebShow interview being interrupted by a psycho. It is this psycho that I write about today. Her name isn't really important because I'm just gonna go ahead and call her Momma Nutjob.

Shaggy haired Hayden has won BB12 and America just kind of shrugged their shoulders and decided to water their plants and take out the trash or something. I'm sure he's a nice enough guy and all, but he was boring. He was so boring in fact, he was Bo-ring! Worse still, we were forced to listen to him plan his future fame during those final weeks in the house which I documented ad nauseum here in this little fancy pants blog. Well, it turns out back in Arizona or maybe it was the 9th ring of hell - I'm not exactly sure, Momma Nutjob, was watching and stewing and planning. I picture her hovering over her cauldron of hate and rubbing her bony liver spotted hands together while planning how she's gonna ride the Hayden Train all the way to the bank while Grandma Nutjob cackles in the background over not having to clip coupons anymore for hair bleach. Sister Nutjob was probably out back gathering hemlock and toad stool or some shit like that. It's all very MacBeth. Yes, I've just managed to turn a BB12 piece of gossip into Shakespeare.

So Hayden wins Big Brother and the whole Nutjob clan flies to L.A. to run their fingers through Oedipus', err I mean, Hayden's hair. One would think the Finale Party would be a time of celebration and laughing and giggling, but nooooo Momma Nutjob has a score to settle and that score is called Kristen Bitting. *lightening strikes in the distance* At the Finale Party, Momma Nutjob put on her best threads, assembled her flaming hair just so, and began the laborious task of telling everyone who'd pay attention what "trash" Kristen was and how there was no way in hell her son would ever date her. You know that phrase "taking the high road"? Well, Momma Nutjob took the Death Valley tumbleweed covered road even Satan himself is too scared to travel. Seriously, a class act right here folks.

Naturally, the CBS Finale Party was filled with industry people associated with the show and the network and it's only normal that they'd want to speak with some of the past HG's. Well, Kristen, being a total hot piece of ass with legs for days, was pretty popular that night. My CBS source tells me that every time Kristen was approached by someone of importance, Momma Nutjob's head spun around like that chick in the Exorcist. Momma Nutjob wanted all the attention on herself and Hayden. She refused to leave Hayden's side the entire time and I'm pretty sure a leash around his neck wouldn't have been entirely out of place. Note to Momma Nutjob: YOU, my dear, are not famous nor will you ever be. You keep up this bullshit you're pulling and your son won't be for much longer either.

Now we arrive in Las Vegas. Vegas - land of the mealy mouthed redheads, exhausted showgirls in torn fishnet tights, and polyester covered Elvis impersonators. Not one, but THREE sources have regaled me with the infamous PopTalkWebShow incident I broke last Monday over at the Bitchy Network. For those of you who missed it, allow me to elaborate. BB12 Houseguests were scheduled to be interviewed by the fabulous Scarfed One himself, Kevin Campbell. He had a nice set-up with lights and cameras and cute little pink PopTalkWebShow cards. Hayden, who thought he was a rock star all weekend long, arrived for his interview, walked in, saw that it was more than just Kevin and a flipcam, and said, "I'm not supposed to be doing big interviews with anyone but CBS." Uh, chucklehead, you do realize that Kevin, Laura, Kristen, Enzo, etc are all under the EXACT same contract you are, right? After some fitful swishing of his hair, Hayden finally agreed to do the interview and everything was set to go. They were all ready to start when in the distance a slow rumbling began... it was faint at first, but then grew so loud it was like those youtube videos you see of tornado activity. Was it a bird? A plane? No, it was Momma Nutjob! Momma Nutjob, who was probably off adding another coat of lipstick and sealant to herself when her son entered the room, came bursting in waving her hands around screaming, "Cut! Stop! Cut!" It turns out she refused to let Hayden do the interview specifically because it was WITH Kristen. *thunder claps*

Personally, if I was Kristen I'd be plastering this shit all over the internets, but as far as I know she hasn't said much at all about all this. Girlfriend has much more restraint than I'll ever have. Lucky for you I have lots of friends on the inside and a big mouth. Shall we continue?

So, Momma Nutjob, Grandma Nutjob, and Sister Nutjob continued their reign of terror in Vegas by strutting around like they were A-listers and being nothing short of unpleasant to everyone who crossed their path. For some reason, this Kristen thing really bothers them. I mean, psychotically, irrationally, mental institutionally really bothers them. I'm pretty sure I'm not going overboard when I say, "Thorazine drip, STAT!" There's one more incident I want to touch on and it takes place in a restaurant. First, another quick note to Momma Nutjob: When you pull your lunatic stunts, don't do in a fucking public place where my blog readers could be lurking about.

OK so Kristen and Annie were at some restaurant eating and it turns out that a bunch of Hayden's friends and Momma Nutjob just happened to be there. As Kristen is delightful and banging bodied, the friends were happy to see her and were exchanging friendly pleasantries and joking around. Momma Nutjob was probably sitting in a corner layering on some more thick eyeshadow and grumbling into her gruel when she caught a glimpse of the merriment going on. As merry making is a foreign idea to Momma Nutjob, she was actually overheard saying... wait for it... "I'm going to throw that trash over the counter and have her trotted out of here!" *bites fist* Wow. Fucking wow. Oh, but I'm not done. There's MORE!

Momma Nutjob storms out of the restaurant followed by Hayden and his friends. Out front some sort of spat broke out involving Annie. I'm not entirely sure of all the details, but it appears as if Annie was defending Kristen and Hayden's friends were having none of it and gave Annie a piece of their mind. I don't know how, but Momma Nutjob has not only Hayden, but all his buddies by the short and curlies as well. I'll bet she says, "Kiss me." and they say, "How hard?"

OK so I haven't exactly been the nicest gal to one Miss Annie Whittington. I started the season really digging her, but that turned into a gentle disdain when she blocked me on Twitter for asking one innocent question, but good on you Annie. Good. On. You. It seems to me that Kristen has taken a lot of shit for something so innocent and fluffy that it's really not even all that remarkable an issue anymore. Hayden had a little crush on her in the house and shared some kisses - THAT'S IT! She's not pregnant. They're not having a litter of Haysten's or Krayden's. She lives clear across the country from the boy for crying out loud. I just can't wrap my head around why Momma Nutjob is so fucking psychotic over Kristen. I still maintain she's in love with her son. I said it back when I saw his family footage and I'm saying it again now. She's creepy and weird and she should step off and let her grown ass son live his own life. God help the woman Hayden eventually marries. That poor girl... that poor poor girl.

If you're a fan of Survivor, please check out my Bitchy Survivor Blog. So far, we're having a very nutty and colorful season.