Peckerwood Manor

Welcome, fellow trollops, to the latest edition of "Who's This Week's Thirstiest Ho?" Today's trio are drier than that busted, six-year-old sleeve of Ritz Crackers you forgot about in the back of your kitchen cabinet, so they need all the moisture they can get. Let's start with Griffin Dunne. What is a Griffin Dunne, you may ask (especially if you're under 40)? Pull up a seat, darlin', I'll tell you. Griffin is an unattractive nepo-baby producer and sometime-actor born of  Dominick Dunne, a  celebrated author and late-in-life ghey, and Ellen, Dominick's activist/wife. His sister Dominique was tragically murdered as a teenager, which drove Dominick's later work as a true-life crime writer, most notably concerning the O.J. Simpson trial. Griffin's also the nephew of writer Joan Didion, so, yeah, despite his face, which I shall charitably describe as guinea pig-like, he managed to use his connections to star in a few decent movies in the 1...

Welcome, sloots, to the latest edition of "Who's This Week's Thirstiest Ho?" Today's trio are particularly embalmed and in need of moisture.  First, we have Tori Spelling, so go ahead, cue the "Tori" gags, i.e. "SupposiTORI" and "Sob sTori" and "Barely AmbulaTORI," etc. Now that we've got that out of the way, brace yourselves, because the press are once more delivering urgent missives (fed to them by Tori). And, yes, I eagerly read them all, 'cause she's the low-hanging, Tupperware-tittied Dumpster fire I've long adored and I shan't apologize for it.  This never-ending slop-tart saga seemed to reach a nadir when Tori packed up her chirruns and left sleazy, money-grubbing Deaner.  But lo, Tori's opus continued to offer delirious twists and turns. This included an extended stay with her crotch-droppings at a mangy RV park, then at several dilapidated, $100-a-week roadside hotels. And this was after tox...

Welcome to today's edition of "Thirsty Or Not Thirsty," in which we judge the relative thirstiness - or not - of various celebutarts. First up, everyone's favorite memaw chef, gardener and wacky weed enthusiast, Martha Stewart, who just posted the picture above for her adoring fans on her Instagram page. Note her carefully mussed-up  wig hair and her (relatively) perky titty-balls.  This is Hard-Core Thirsty (for those who are blind), made even more so by her moist, parted lips, also known as her Polish soup coolers if she's serving sauerkraut borscht, as every proper Polish trollop is wont to do. Blow, Martha, blow. I'm willing to hear about why this picture is not thirsty, but honestly, it's pretty damn unquenchable, and I'll be frank, I admire her game. Martha is 83 and doing what Madonna should be doing at 65, but then peek-a-boo knockers is too subtle for Vadge, who these days is more interested in showing-off her Inflate-A-Ho keister. But I digr...