NGOMPOL: November 2010

Heidi Montag Attack Her Plastic Surgeon, After His Death

Source: www.GutterUncensored.com

For some reason, Heidi Montag is trying to assassinate the character of a dead man. The actress and entertainer most famous for her large boobs, is complaining about those bodatious tatas after the man who gave them to her, Dr. Frank Ryan, is dead. Now some friends of the late plastic surgeon Dr. Frank Ryan -- who died in August after his car plunged off a cliff in Malibu -- are pissed with Heidi Montag for leaking some emails that suggest the doctor was trying to use her to become famous. The New York Post report:

Radaronline.com published e-mails between Ryan and Montag after he performed 10 surgeries in one day on the reality star. In them, Ryan asked Montag if she wanted injectibles such as Botox and if she could wear T-shirts promoting his children's foundation.

Dawn DaLuise, a friend of Ryan's family, tells us, "It's desecrating him, it's denigrating a person who can't defend themselves. It's really abhorrent." DaLuise says Ryan would routinely ask his celebrity clients to visit the charity's ranch to publicize the foundation and offer them touch-up procedures in between surgeries. She said, "The difference between offering Botox and performing surgery is similar to a well-meaning dentist encouraging patients to floss and brush daily versus offering to do root canal on every tooth."

Dr. Ryan passed on after a horrible car accident back in August 2010. Then, Montag said she was devastated to learn of the news. Montag used her Twitter page to praise Ryan, saying he was "brilliant." Now, the 24-year-old star seems to be making the whole experience and his involvement look almost sinister. Basically, Montag says Ryan didn't prep her for the pain she suffered in her "quest for perfection." The best part is sources say Heidi Montag had secret crush on Dr. Frank Ryan before his untimely death. And rumors are Heidi was texting with his cell phone just before he died in the car crash.

I bet the only reason she's bitching and moaning about her plastic surgery now is that she still owes the dead doctor's estate money. She is using the media to build a case not to pay the rest of her bill. Perhaps his estate will forgive the debt just to shut her up... Anyway, I still think Heidi needs bigger implants so I hope this episode doesn't scare off every plastic surgeon in Hollywood from ever working with her. Cause that would be the real tragedy here. LOL... I really want to see how much silicone science can stuff into one woman. Click on pictures to enlarge.

Source: http://www.GutterUncensored.com

Wiki Bio

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Heidi Montag (born September 15, 1986 in Crested Butte, Colorado, U.S.A.) is an American reality television celebrity best known for appearing on the MTV reality television series The Hills. Montag is also an aspiring singer. www.GutterUncensored.com

Fefe Dobson - Stuttering Lyrics

Fefe Dobson - Stuttering Lyrics

There’s a whole lotta things that I will forgive
But I just can’t take a liar
I was by your side till the very end
Till you pushed me in the fire

I tried to believe you but something is wrong
You won’t look in my eyes tell me what’s going on

Is you and me against the world?
That’s what you said, that’s what you said
If you can’t be honest with me
Then I’m afraid this is the end

Hurry up, hurry up
If you ever really cared about me
Tell the truth, give it up
You’re still guilty cuz you’re stuttering

Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering
Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering

Now the seconds turn into minutes now
But you won’t give me an answer

You can tell me this, you can tell me that
But don’t say you don’t remember

Cuz I know you better than you know yourself
So don’t say I’m crazy, I know very well

Is you and me against the world?
That’s what you said, that’s what you said
If you can’t be honest with me
Then I’m afraid this is the end

Hurry up, hurry up
If you ever really cared about me
Tell the truth, give it up
You’re still guilty cuz you’re stuttering

Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering
Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering

I I I don’t don’t wanna hear your so-o-rry now
The-uh-uh best thing you can do for me is just spit it out
I I I don’t don’t wanna hear your so-o-rry now
Stop stop stuttering your words
It’s only making you look worse

Hurry up, hurry up
If you ever really cared about me
Tell the truth, give it up
You’re still guilty cuz you’re stuttering

Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering
Oh oh oh oh oh ey ey ey ey ey oh oh oh oh whoa
Yeah you’re stuttering
[Fefe Dobson - Stuttering Lyrics on http://mp3downloadsmania.blogspot.com]

Keep on stuttering (yeah you’re stuttering)
Keep on stuttering (yeah you’re stuttering)

Pieces

Yesterday afternoon, I didn’t feel like grading portfolios or answering work emails or doing any of the items on my long to-do list. I kept thinking about the little neighbor kids, and wondering where they were. I played the piano for a little while, but then I relinquished my spot on the bench to Shaggy Hair Boy, since he said he needed to practice.

So I decided to do a jigsaw puzzle.

I hadn’t done one in years. But a few weeks ago, a friend offered me a jigsaw puzzle: someone had given it to her as a gift, and she didn’t want it. Just the sight of the box brought back childhood memories, and I took the puzzle home.

When I was a kid, we sometimes spent winter afternoons doing jigsaw puzzles. My mother would set up a folding table near the front window, where we could get the late afternoon light. I’d sit in a wooden chair, studying the pieces, gathering ones that had similar colors, putting them together to form an image. My mother would work on the puzzle for a few minutes, then go into the kitchen to make dinner. My brother would take the spot next to me, gathering pieces systematically, and announcing anything he considered a big breakthrough. “Okay, folks, the barn is now connected to the sky.” Sometimes we’d talk, sometimes we’d work in silence. When my eyes got tired of staring at puzzle pieces, I’d look up at the sky outside the window, hoping for snowflakes.

So yesterday, I pulled a folding table out of the garage, set in up in my front window, and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. The craziness inside my head seemed to calm down as I moved the pieces around. I got a little feeling of satisfaction I got every time I snapped a piece into place.

“What’s this?” Shaggy Hair Boy asked incredulously when he came home and saw the puzzle. “Is this because the neighbor kids aren’t here?”

When Boy in Black and First Extra came through the door, First Extra surveyed the table with interest. “Wow,” he said. “This is old school procrastination.” He sat down on the ottoman and picked up the box.

He’d read my blog post, he said. He and Skater Boy had talked about it at lunch. He ran his fingers through the box of pieces, looking for edge pieces. I snapped some more pieces into place. Then the boys went out in the backyard to throw.