Jack Plunkett
Kanye West is MTV s Man of the Year. Ha! Um. We mean congrats.



Kanye West has been named MTV’s “Man of the Year.”

Well, that’s just kick-you-in-the-crotch neat.

Let’s not stop here. There are countless neglected icons due worthy praise.

More Headaches



Christy Fantz dishes the dirt daily on her Hollywood Headaches blog, at coloradodaily.com.

There’s a spare Nobel Peace Prize passed out drunk in my liquor cabinet that needs a better home. That asshole is hounding all my booze. I nominate Chris Brown.

Let’s prize DMX and Michael Vick as co-recipients of the PETA Humanitarian Award.

Sidebar: Sure, Vick is having an extraordinary season. This means his gruesome abuse, torture and execution of dogs has been forgiven? You would. Why don’t you go spoon Jeffrey Dahmer’s grave, you sick bastard.

Lastly, let’s award Mel Gibson with the Human Rights Award. Gibson’s serene tongue and suave wordsmanship is what makes for superior human morality.

West won the MTV “honor” for his comeback story from villain to “hero” — which, in MTV speak, translates to crooked publicity.

MTV, while you’re down there, West’s Louis Vuitton shoes are untied.

I’ll take Lohan’s side

As much as Hollywood Headaches likes to carp on your favorite fire crotch (I said that out loud), this particular Lindsay Lohan shenanigan seems a tad (ahem, ginger) fishy.

Apparently, Betty Ford employee Dawn Holland attempted to administer a Breathalyzer to an allegedly drunk Lohan when the star severely sprained the worker’s arm, placing her on workers’ comp, according to TMZ.

For shit’s sake, lady.

I like to slam that jacked-up celebrity like box wine, but it seems doubtful that Holland would be sprained from a phone torn away from her. I call bullshit. Drink!*

Lindsay is allegedly filing a complaint against the worker saying Holland initiated the incident by berating the star and grabbing her first.

Excuse me while I go scrub my fingers with lye for typing allegiance to Lohan.

*Bullshit? The drinking game? Don’t make me hit you.

You can buy friends

After I’m loaded and have swept you insignificant chums under the rug,* my idea of blowing my gluttonous party wad involves squandering money on second-rate celebrity appearances. I’m a big deal.

An Arizona millionaire paid rapper Ludacris $100,000 to perform a 45-minute set at his holiday party. (He wears large Salvatore Ferragamo loafers and drives a colossal Hummer. That’s what he said.)

Then, the man hit up the discount aisle and snagged appearances from Snooki for $17,500, Stephanie Pratt for $12,500, Giuliana and Bill Rancic and Bruce Jenner for $15,000 and Dean Cain for $5,000.

This star power is burning my loins. Wait. False alarm. It’s just gas.

*Don’t worry. It will be an awesome rug that really ties the room together. You’ll be cozy.

Christy Fantz’s Hollywood Headaches runs every Wednesday in the Colorado Daily.

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