WHO'S THIS WEEK'S THIRSTIEST HO? Is it Drew Barrymore? Or Jessica Simpson? Or Scrabble And Chill?

Welcome, fellow trollops, to the latest edition of "Who's This Week's Thirstiest Ho?" Today's trio are drier than a used, three-week old tea bag stuck to the floorboard next to your trashcan, so they need all the moisture they can get.

First up, a familiar parched face, Hollywood's darlingest scab, Drew Barrymore, who is once more here to remind us that her cute-wittle-girl routine is well past its sell-by date. To be honest, it’s been that way for a while, or ever since she began hosting her own talk show where slobbering over her guests like an over-eager puppy, crying and holding their hands became her "winsome" trademark - something she sometimes does while wearing overalls (which is unacceptable!). 

Of course, most of mankind and galaxies beyond already know that Drew had a rough childhood which included drugs, more drugs, and, yes, more drugs. I feel like it's been drilled into our subconscious by now - along with Lindsay Lohan’s drunk driving and Paris Hilton’s diseased, guac-squirting chocha - the message being, "Feel sowwy for me, I'm a survivor!" This is not to say that I'm mocking her childhood difficulties or addictions, only that it becomes tiresome when used (over and over) as P.R. currency. Her strained, child-like demeanor - I swear, I half expect Alicia Silverstone to spit pre-chewed food into her mouth - is predictably trotted out when she sticks her foot in it, or sometimes when she's just craving moisture, like now. 

"We have all been such hedonists!" squealed Drew this week for no special reason, talking in earnest about her famed family lineage of boozing actors, then added, in a conversational lilt which I can only describe as brain-stunted tween, "I'm just like, you know what? That didn't work out for our family, and I'm going to change that!" For my part, I'm just like, you know what? Maybe you will, but you'll have to work on that scab thing, given that it goes all the way back to your great aunt Ethel, who famously broke from movie actors and torpedoed their efforts to form their first union in the 1920s. This was just after she met in secret with Jack Warner, who offered her a plumb role in exchange for campaigning against the union - and it worked. No word on whether Ethel baby-talked, cried winsomely or wore overalls, but not to worry. Drew's got that covered. 

The verdict is in: Drew is thirsty!

If your interior monologue automatically jumped to,"Harpo, who's that woman" after glancing at the picture above, you are not alone. No, it's not Busted Barbie™ - real dribble comes out of her mouth when you ask her to add and subtract! - it's Jessica Simpson in a pose which screams, "I will eat your soul, then queef it out." To be honest, I've always had a soft spot for Jessica, who's harmless as a throw cushion come to life, and while she's certifiably talent-free, her struggles with her weight, her sobriety, her self-esteem and her latest head transplant, are somehow endearing instead of off-putting. 

But make no mistake, she's thirsty as can be. She knows no other way. This week she was eager to lap it by announcing her brand new "collaboration" with Walmart, a line of clothing for the Jessica Simpson Collection, a previously existing Walmart revenue stream which had offered only Jessica-branded shoes and went bankrupt. Oopsie! But now she's back. She describes her collection of threadbare Shein reject blouses, skirts and pants as "California boho meets Texas chic," a thrown-together jumble of words which could mean anything, but mostly means more wear-once disposable polyester for our overflowing landfills. Mankind may die, but Jessica’s culottes will live forever. 

Of more concern is her Walmart promotional picture above. Jessica's Ozempic face and smeary, plumped-up lips give her a typical "Pay attention to meeeeee!" appearance, for sure - yet behold, she’s surrounded by actual, real life throw pillows. Such confusion. Jessica, throw pillows, Jessica, throw pillows; it’s a melange of eerie, cut-and-stitch banality. "It wasn't until I became a mother that I learned to celebrate what a woman's body can do," she recently chirped. I'll take her word for it, but since she's doing to her body what only Silly Putty can do, I'll assume she's going for California boho meets Texas chic meets melted red party cup meets torn, used truck stop condom. It's a look only the most parched among us can pull off. Brava, Jessica. 

The verdict is in: Jessica is thirsty!

Are you a nasty competitive cuntwalla when playing board games with friends and family? Then Mattel isn't talking to you right now. And while you'd think they'd be satiated from moisture given their wall-to-wall Barbie summer, they're back for another deluge this week with a kinder, gentler version of Scrabble, which they call Scrabble Together. "The idea behind Together mode is to make the game more inclusive," cooed Mattel, since their research revealed that competition was off-putting to younger players who just want to "connect" and "chill." 

So Stupid Scrabble, right? I'm down with that, especially if I'm bombed on my fourth Lemon Drop martini and just looking to giggle and burp with friends who'll put up with me. But, boy, oh, boy, people have feelings about this. FOX News has behaved as if someone took a knife, stabbed Scrabble in its gentle tummy, then eviscerated it, releasing all of its gooey entrails. This is not surprising, since FOX believes "woke toys" will make your kids gay or develop good taste. Others decry the lazy Generation Z and Alpha, who only want to work three hours a day in their corporate jobs and feel empowered by sound baths, since they've obviously inspired this treacherous game board deviltry. 

Laughing all the way to the bank is Mattel, who are thirstily encouraging debates from all sides, and who are cannily selling a flippable board, meaning that if you're deeply offended by Scrabble Together, just flip the board over and voila! Its regular ol' Scrabble where teensy words no one ever uses, like "qi," "za," and "ag" can win you the game, each of which my mom has memorized and continues to slaughter me with whenever we play while sipping her Johnny Walker Blue that you better not touch or you're in big trubs. Slow clap, Mattel. You're now officially drowning in it. 

The verdict is in: Mattel is thirsty!

Now your part begins! Who, oh who, is this week's thirstiest ho? Please, no substitutes, and you may only choose one. Choose wisely. Only the most dehydrated deserve to be drenched.

Photo Credits: Jessica Simpson/Instagram; Drew Barrymore/Instagram; Mattel via The Wall Street Journal