Rejected, less sensitive headlines:

*Betty Ford Free to Start Drinking Again
*Huh, Gerald Ford Wasn’t Already Dead
*Here’s Hoping Chevy Chase Does a Really Good Impression of This
*Democrats Take Control of Weekly Ex-Presidents Key Party
*And You Thought You Were Unmoved About James Brown Dying

At the age of 73, the “Hardest Working Man in Show Business” ceased living (in America) on Christmas morning, due to pneumonia-related heart failure.

R.I.P.

I suppose even our naughtiest readers deserve a little more than coal in their stocking. And so we wipe the cookie crumbs from our collective moustaches and swallow the last splash of milk, as we listen to your footie-pajamed hooves scrambling down the stairs. We can’t wait to see that shit eating grin on your face as you discover what the fat man left you. It’s a god damn Christmas miracle.

Merry LiberTee

Your previous holiday haul:
“I’M SORRY” BELATED XMAS CARDS
BELIEVE TIVO
TEAM BRITNEY vs TEAM BRITNEY’S VAGINA
PUBLICITY CUNT UNDIES SET
POPOZAO ’08
HO HO HO BAG
I [SPACESHIP] SCIENTOLOGY

A holiday message from the Junkiness editors.

From Darci:
And there were in the same country wiseasses abiding in the field, keeping watch over their inbox by night. And, lo, the angel of the Blog came upon them, and the glory of the Blog shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all addicts of news, gossip and heroin. For unto you is born this day on the world wide web a Saviour, which is JUNKINESS. And it shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the news of the day wrapped in sarcasm and ridicule, lying in an RSS feed.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the unclothed and overpaid, flashing naked parts, and saying, “Watch me get out of this limo, y’all!”

From Ian:
Last night I had an amazing dream. I was visited by the ghosts of Ed Bradley, Jose Uribe, and Ahmet Ertegun, and they told me that none of my success–the money, the women, the drugs, the drugged-out women made of money–mattered, and that the true purpose of Christmas was to ingest as many delicious trans-fats as possible in the shortest amount of time, and then flash your shaved hoohah in front of a large crowd of photographers. Also they said that Santa Claus, Jesus, Mel Torme, Satan, and Lee Majors were the same person, and that person was dead. But–and this was where Ed Bradley put me in a spectral head-lock to emphasize his point–it wasn’t too late for me to step up and save Christmas, if I would just agree to sell my email address book to him and the other recently departed, which they could then trade for prime real estate in Heaven and avoid spending the holidays on the streets of God City living out of a heavenly refrigerator box and eating rotten scraps from the angels’ garbage cans. “But what will happen to the email addresses?” I asked, fearful of incurring my friends’ and family’s wrath should they suddenly find themselves on the receiving end of a tsunami of spam from the afterlife. (I hear the tsunami victims are especially bad about forwarding bogus chain-emails.) Anyway, long story short, I saved Christmas (with a little help from K-fed and the stingray that killed Steve Irwin), sang some songs, and learned a little something about myself in the process–and you can all give thanks to me when you sit down to eat your holiday armadillo and play with your new strap-ons. You’re welcome, you ungrateful bastards. O come, let you adore me; O come let you adore me; I said O come let you adore me… you ungrateful bastards. Amen.

From Franky:
In the 3rd Century AD born and raised,
Helping Lycians is how I spent most of my days
Chilling out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool and
Delivering presents to kids in the schools

When a couple of Romans who were up to no good
Started persecuting in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and God got scared he said
“You’re moving with the elves and reindeer in Pole-Aire”

I whistled for a sleigh and when it came near
The licence plate said “INRI” and it had thorns in the mirror.
If anything I could say that this sleigh was rare
but I though “nah, forget it Yo Holmes to Pole-Aire!”

I pulled up to the ice about 7 or 8
and I yelled out to Jesus “Yo Holmes, smell ya Later”
Looked at my workshop I was finally there.
To sit on my throne as St. Nick of Pole-Aire.

From Matt:

Steve Martin’s Holiday Wish – SNL – video powered by Metacafe

Chris, Dennis and Uncle Sloppy were late with their Holiday message. Guess you’ll be getting one of these.

Giant squid has its worst Christmas ever. [CNN]

A treasure trove of Christmas memories. [South Florida.com]

Mother Wisdom’s Xmas smackdown. [YPR]

The Complete Blogvent Calendar in all its blogventy glory. [Utter Wonder]

The best celebrity-themed apology cards in the history of celebrity-themed apology cards. [J-to-the-Nay]

A British chocolate shop-manager has been transferred from the town of Barrow-in-Furness to a new branch after he was discovered referring to the town online as a “shithole.” The comments were found on the manager’s MySpace page, in which he complained about the town’s rough quality, shoplifters, and general crumminess:

[Steve] Beall, who uses the name “Stevo” online, wrote: “Well then what is there to say about Barrow in Furness apart from its a s***-hole!! How the hell people live there I’ll never no (sic).”

Perhaps angered by Beall’s poor grammar and spelling, locals began visiting the shop to voice their discontent, and he was soon moved to the new location to protect his safety. A quick survey of townsfolk generated the following feedback regarding Beall’s comments:

• “This is a crap-hole at worst, I’d say.” —Nigel Whoopingbottom, 58, hod-carrier
• “Barrow-in-Furness may be a festering sewage-dump, but it’s our festering sewage-dump.” —Edith Wharton, 45, chimney sweep
• “As a proud resident of the foul-smelling armpit of Britain, I take great exception to the use of the term ‘shit-hole.’” —Neville McNay-nay, 23, whore-murderer
• “You may call this town a turd-bucket, a slop-ditch, a filth-smudge, a bile-puddle, or a gaping-pus-sore, but I draw the line at ‘shit-hole.’ For shame, young man!” —Rogers St.-John Chamberpot, 62, lice-wrangler
• “If Beall thinks this is a shit-hole, he’s obviously never been to bloody New Jersey.” —Lord Whittingham Snodgrass, 71, Earl of Shit-hole

In other news, a Junkiness editor was found dead this morning in a dumpster, apparently after choking on a mixture of fish and chips, marmite, and coal. Police could not explain the presence of what appeared to be a crumpet in the victim’s rectum.

Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice stirred up controversy today when she defended the loss of US life in Iraq:

“There have been plenty of markers that show that this is a country that is worth the investment, because once it emerges as a country that is a stabilising factor, you will have a very different kind of Middle East.”

Of course, anyone who criticizes Rice’s line of thought simply knows nothing about war and/or investing. The truth is, the administration locked in an incredibly good interest rate at the start of the war. The more troops whose lives are “invested,” the more our balance will grow. If we can get the number of troops invested up to around 5000 within the next two years, by 2020, we’ll be able to cash out something like a million troops. And we’ll need them, because that’s right around the time the killer attack androids will be attempting to assimilate us.

So you can go ahead and call Ms. Rice a soulless monster with a dehumanizing view of troop lives, but we’d like to extend an advanced thanks to her for saving us from the cold, metallic grip of the machines.

Although we will have one final present waiting for you on Christmas morning, we’re wrapping up our Junkiness Christmas today with six star-studded delights. Forget to mail holiday cards this year? Threaten to molest your neighbor’s dog? Our “Sorry” greeting cards from celebrity apologizers are perfect for any occasion in which you feel a mugshot photo will relieve (or at least deflect) your guilt.

Star Studded Apology Cards

Be sure to check out these other 6 stuffings for your stockings!
BELIEVE TIVO
TEAM BRITNEY vs TEAM BRITNEY’S VAGINA
PUBLICITY CUNT UNDIES SET
POPOZAO ’08
HO HO HO BAG
I [SPACESHIP] SCIENTOLOGY.

When you want to say “Thanks for the low self esteem, Dad” — say it with a card.

Even though Miss USA was lucky enough to keep her crown despite drug abuse and public lesbianism, Miss Nevada wasn’t so lucky: reps for the pageant have relieved Katie Rees of her title. Photographs showing Rees making out with women, men, bar stools, alligators–basically anything she could get her royal lips on–hit the Internet soon after the Miss USA scandal broke.

In a statement to the TV show “EXTRA,” an attorney for Rees, says, was “Katie wants the public to know she was 17 and had a lapse in judgment. This was an isolated incident that occurred more than five years ago when she was a minor.”

So you see, she was just a girl when she simulated oral sex on those women and let those guys kiss her breasts and fondled that bar stool and gave a handjob to that gator. I mean, kids will be kids, am I right? Okay, that stuff with the bar stool and the alligator didn’t happen. There wasn’t even an alligator there (thank god for the alligator).

Comedian and amateur punching-bag Pauly Shore has admitted that an incident last week in which he was attacked by an angry audience member was staged:

The comic let the footage run for days on various websites and then confessed it was all a set-up, and the internet fuss proved his point that audiences at all shows now turn up looking for something they can capture on their cell phone and post online.

“The Weez” went on to say that the past twelve years of his career were also staged, and that he’s actually still a Hollywood sensation at the top of his game, swamped with acting jobs and groupies, and that his role as a washed-up D-List has-been who has to stage mock-fights at comedy clubs to stay in the news was all part of “the greatest illusion of all time! This time I shall be victorious, Professor Darklight! Ha hah!” Shore then twirled his moustache and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

In other news, it’s been a slow news day.

Lost star Evangeline Lilly escaped injury yesterday when her Hawaiian home burned down:

The 27-year-old’s representative Cara Tripicchio tells People, “Yes, it is unfortunately true that her home in Hawaii burned down this morning. Thankfully, Evangeline is safe as she was on set already when it occurred.”

When reached for comment, the fire marshall said, “At first the fire was really intense and unusual. It was really like no other fire I’d ever seen. But after a while, the fire lost focus. It would start burning something and then completely abandon it before the burning was complete. Eventually the fire weakened and resorted to burning some trite love-triangle, and I really couldn’t bring myself to give a shit anymore.”

A flashback reportedly later revealed the cause of the fire, but by that point fire crews had abondoned it for a fire at the home of one of the stars of Heroes.

Still, don’t believe in immaculate conception, asshole? [CNN]

Studio 60 star clearly riddled with Sorkin pox. [HuffPo]

Rosie v. Trump. [D-Listed]

X-Ray Machine v. Baby. [Zulkey]

My manhood is transforming just watching this. [Egotastic]

Of course, we totally had that Transformers trailer before anyone else. [Junkiness]

Lloyd Blankfein, CEO of Goldman Sachs, will definitely be having a Happy New Year, as he received a nifty Christmas Hanukhah holiday just-for-the-hell-of-it bonus of approximately $53.4 million:

The bonanza for Blankfein included a cash bonus of $27.3 million, with the rest paid in stock and options. … The record payday… breaks the one set just last Thursday when Morgan Stanley disclosed that it paid CEO [John] Mack $40 million in stock and options.

Blankfein (shown here thinking about diving into giant piles of money) was awarded the bonus for, among other things, increasing the company’s profits by 70%, improving the firm’s standing on Wall Street, and being a member of the cabal which got Judith Regan fired.

When reached for comment, Blankfein said, “OH MY GOD I AM SO FUCKING RIIIIIIIIIIICH!!!!!!” as his head exploded.