Breaking: Sports Illustrated Model Marissa Miller Is Still Married to a Twatwaffle
We’ve been tracking one of the longest and most inexplicable celebrity Hottie/Douchey cohabits to maintain itself here on the site since early 2008, with depressing updates in late 2008 and 2009.
I speak, of course, of the uberbobuous Marissa Miller and her astonishing decision not just to date or hook up with, but to marry, a heaping load of yakspittle.
Marissa Miller and Cactus didn’t win the 2008 Douchie Award for celebrity HCwDB, losing to the toxic vegas crud that is Criss Angel and Assorted Vegas Porn Hotts, but their stench has gained from sheer longevity.
Anyone who thinks that because douchebaggery has become self-aware in the age of the Jersey Shore just like Cyberdyne Systems did on August 29th, 1997, doesn’t realize that that doesn’t mean the war ended. It means the war has only begun.
F*ck me. Just. Not. Right.
Luckily, when Douchebaggery became self-aware, it didn’t make T-1000s and HKs to attack the humans. It made DJs and 1995 Honda Civic “race cars” with glass packs and shit body work. Both annoying, but far from deadly.
yea, she’s all right. I guess.
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if you’re into the whole “perfect” thing.
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I believe that she was recently on Conan talking about her love of sports, particularly watching boxing. I wouldn’t mind giving her an uppercut, if you know what I mean, eh!?!?
Marissa Miller. Wow. Simply, wow. As for her pile of goat manure she calls a husband, may he fertilize a field of winter wheat, soon. (The yield will most likely increase from 30-ish bpa to 1,000 or more bushels per acre. That’s how manure filled this whole situation is.)
She married…. THAT?
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Holy Fucking Cow. I’m stunned. I figured she would have hooked up with some quarterback or basketball player. But, no. HIM. Man, I need to back to bed. My head is swimming after seeing that.
I can’t believe that guy was able to steal Yasir Arafat’s head towel and adapt it into a douchescarf.
I saw a schnauzer wearing a similar neck bandana the other day. Wonder if it was the same dog.
Gotta admit, she’s got some sweet ass bobs. I can see why you guys are pissed. Not to add insult to injury but I hear she really tears it up in the sack, angry badger-style. If only there were other hot attractive single ladies out there all hope would not be lost.
@Taint, does that equal a shit ton?
I’m assuming that she has been wearing her contacts inside out for the last 2.5 years. To her he always looks really far away and she can’t see what a total and absolute cocckholster he looks like.
This particular celeb douche/hott coupling is especially painful, because yes, she’s just that much hotter than your average celeb hott. It hurts my soul to look at that picture.
@Nancy. Dropped me first with the dog-bana comment, then with your perfect synopsis of this pic. You rock.
From Wikipedia:
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She married Jim Miller,[2][40] a Los Angeles surfing contest promoter and lifeguard from California in 2000. The couple separated in 2002,[41][42] they divorced soon after. She married music producer Griffin Guess on April 15, 2006.[2]
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Producer… as useful as a fucking DJ.
By the way, this is JUST FUCKING INFURIATING.
Too bad she’s bleethed out.
Guys named ‘Griffin Guess’ shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near women like her.
I am using my Jedi skills to reach thru this photograph and choke Sir TwatWaffle with his iPod headphones. I only hope Marissa had forgotten to swab her pits and he grabbed a smell by his own brand.
“Griffin” is “Guessing” that her forearm smells like his asshole (where it was recently lodged).
After taking a GANDER at those luscious lady mounds, I am touching myself “angry badger-style”
There’s no accounting for bad taste. Sure, she could do better, but face it– so could almost all women. They all settle for unworthy ass-cheese, often repeatedly. Some men do, too– Ed Norton dated Courtney Love just before bagging Salma Hayek, whom he subsequently dumped because she was “too into being a celebrity.” Dumbass.
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But back to what we should really be discussing: Marissa’s boobs… um, yes– more please!
DB1 is cranky today. Fucck off Jon Favreau you are everywhere I look you gay cock nose shit-nozzzle. And you do the Jewish race a disservice. You and that shit fucck Jeremy Piven. Fucck I hate those entourage guys more than Dennis Leary. Why are we all mad today? I’s gonna get my juice on.
My penis says “Damn, she’s tasty”. My asshole says “Hey, that guy is my cousin”.
With a nod to George Constanza for stealing his line, I first declare my unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality and next would like to mention that she is just fabulous. Fuck, would I like to hang out with her for a day’n’night. Will one of my fellow ‘Baggers please line her up for me when I visit the US this year? Go-awwwnnnnn!!
I’m sitting here at the table watching all the beverages on the table tip and slosh precariously in their vessels; cup of coffee, bottle of water, half-glass of skim milk. At my feet is a five month old shepherd mix and a three month old pit bull. They are engaged in a toothy conflict so intense that they are rocking the table a good two inches to the left every three or four seconds. The odd tooth grazes my sock feet, toenails skittering on the linoleum floor is the backbeat to furious snarling and panting. A chair scoots away from the table as if spirited, the sound of a dog’s head whacking a chrome table leg rings around the kitchen. The overall sensation is very much like looking at this picture. You want to make it stop, you’re irritated and annoyed, it’s upsetting things and there is really nothing you can do but try to ignore it.
Poor Marrissa needs her eyes checked is all. I have just the tool for that. I nice injection of protein packed saline solution to the eyes might fix her problem.
Douche-married or not, I would still do a full layout and shoot of her in my own publication, Spurts Illustrated.
@ Medusa
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Please tell me you rescued these little guys? They always make the best companions.
I keep waiting for Marissa Miller to Bleeth-out and become as weird-looking as her spouse, but it doesn’t happen. Then I think, maybe he’ll get better-looking because he’s with HER, turning douchebaggery on its end.
It never materializes…they’re stuck in an enigmatic, enematic time-warp.
Can’t understand why she doesn’t return my calls.
There is no God.
Hmmmm. A white watch.
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Wait. A white watch?
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A white fucking watch!?
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Fuck your fucking white fucking watch, buddy! Fucking DIE you white watch wearing son of a bitch! FUCK YOU!!!!!
You and Jeremy Piven fucck shit. I hate those guys around more of Dennis Leary. Why we’re all crazy now? I’ll take my juice.
@ Dr. BHD 2:43
I did indeed, well sort of. I got on the whole dog rescue thing a while back and took in my first, a darling red pittie. She unfortunately was the product of very bad breeding, as too many of them are, and developed a bad neurological condition. I had to put her down and it damn near killed me. So I rescued this little shep mix and I’m keeping her. The pit is just a foster, he’s going to another home at the end of the week (I hope) so he’s only temporary. However, it was pretty rad last night when I was all sick and shitty and tired, I went to lay down and got smothered in smoochy puppies and we all fell asleep in a warm, fuzzy pile, awwwww……..
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Then I woke up today and was transformed back into my angry, cunty self. Puppies are the only cure for me now.
Would she be as attracted to him if someone dunked him in a vat of Nair?
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Can we try this? I’m curious in a scientific way, that’s all.
I wish other hot attractive Single Ladies out there, all hope should not be lost.