Mittingtons Paints Mansion Red With Hillary Clinton!

Ah, excuse any typos my friends, I had a bit of a rollicking evening last night! Hollywood Wunderkind Brett Ratner threw a party for Hillary Clinton. It was marvelous, really the who's who of entertainment. Everyone was there: Jeremy Piven, RZA, Kevin Smith, Eric Dane, Pauly Shore and yours truly. Can one be more A-list? I think not.

The only downside was waking up this morning in a pile of Piven puke with a rather scantily clad ex-first-lady in bed beside me. MEOW!!!

Still trying to figure out what happened post-midnight,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Breaking News! Twits Abound On Ebay!

I say! As if yesterday's money mongers weren't bad enough trying to fetch a pretty penny with the wreckage from Miss Lohan's car, this twit is trying to sell the grass she uprooted! That's right! A grass divot! Well I've never...

He says:
This is the real deal. Have and grow Beverly Hills Grass in your own backyard! Grass Divot from Lindsay Lohan's DUI Car Accident. I am a press photographer and was one of the first on the scene. notice the grass divot in the first photo on the sidewalk. Soon after I brought the grass divot to my car. THe police came to investigate the crime. Notice the divot missing in the police photos shorly after. SO not only can you grow Beverly Hills Grass in your own back yard you can also Thank Lindsay Lohan for creating for you. Good Luck. I have it soaking on a sponge so it stays fresh.

Lohan Loves Hillbilly Heroin!

Well, it seems that Ms. Lohan's esteemed father has crawled out of his jail cell to make a statement to the press. Seems Lindsay is addicted to Alcohol and Oxycontin and needs serious help. At least according to the man who hasn't seen her in two years. I've been spending some serious time with Lindsay, although of course I can't say much, you know these pesky confidentiality laws. I can tell you, whatever she is on causes her to be extremely amorous towards yours truly, Mr. Mittingtons.

Covered in pink passion lipstick and in dire need of a good licking,
Dr. Mittingtons

Mr. Mittingtons Mixes a Mean Cocktail!

Few people realize that it was I, Horace Mittingtons, and not Andrew Ridgely who founded Wham! with George Michael (or Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou as I know him). In the end I was forced to leave the dynamic duo due to a bad case of mange caused by groupie exposure. George was left no choice but to replace me.

Today's news regarding the cocktail of drugs found in Michael's system after he passed out at the wheel last year comes as no surprise to me! In fact it was yours truly who invented said cocktail, I call it the Filthy British Panty Dropper.

The recipe:
2 capsules prozac
16 drops liquid GHB
7 TBSP cannabis, ground to dust in a coffee grinder
2 oz Malibu
2 oz Blue Curcao
Dash of Angostura Bitters

Shake well and serve over ice, garnished with a hairball.

Still suffering the flashbacks,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Mr. Stinky Eaten By Rabid Performance Artist!

I say! I'm beginning to wish I had eyes in the back of my head! My dear old chum Mr. Stinky certainly didn't. He was just minding his own business sniffing out the scent of stale urine, when performance artist Mark McGowan snuck up behind him, minced him with onions and ate him!
All in the name of radio stunts and animal rights or some claptrap like that.
And he was abetted by no other than Yoko Ono! I have to say, I was on Yoko's side when she broke up those dastardly Beatles, but her participation in this cold-blooded feasting on my friend has really diminished my respect for her. Couldn't she simply write a terrible poem about eating a dog?

R.I.P. Mr. Stinky, may heaven hold a smorgasbord of meat pudding and snausages,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Janice Min Hearts Horace Mittingtons!

Excuse my inflated ego, but yours truly, Horace Mittingtons the Third, finally made it onto the cover of US! Yes, that much feared and equally lauded queen of trash Janice Min sniffs out a story like a drug dog on Lindsay Lohan's car. I'm as pleased as punch with it all, really, although I do feel the need to correct a few glaring errors. It is not my birthday, nor am I technically a girl, despite my neuter status I still prefer my birth gender, male. I say! Perhaps I should apply for a job as a fact-checker at US magazine, I'd get the place ship-shape in no time.

Officially in the Big League,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

I Say! That's Bull!

I was just starting to relax into my accomodations at Promises, Malibu, when I received a frantic phone call from a casting agent for CMT. Seems they are putting together a new reality show that is basically Bull-Riding With The Stars.
They already have the services of former-teen-idol-turned-junkie, Leif Garrett, washed up rapper, Vanilla Ice and the venerable Stephen Baldwin but they were looking for an everyman of sorts to round out the group. That's where I come in. I say, I think it will be a jolly good roustabout with the lads! And I have quite the fighting edge as I used to be a pro on the rodeo circuit... but that's another story.

Wish me luck pardners!
Horace the Kid

Mittingtons Starving to Be On C-List!

That Nicole Richie! This is the invite I received to her memorial day barbecue. I know it says no girls under 100 lbs, but I thought since I am an unfortunate neuter I should play it safe. No Fancy Feast or Pounce for weeks! And I shaved my body hair just to accentuate my newly bony physique.

Ah but it was all for naught, you see, Angelina was feeling a little threatened by my new powerhouse bikini bod so she locked me in the bedroom for the entire day. Never fear, I showed her! I scratched the living shit out of her 1000 thread count sheets. Ha! Never mess with Mittingtons.

Elephants in Hats are Dashing.... To Say The Least

I was just reading the news about the island of elephants found in Sudan. These chaps are very industrious, I must say. I know this first hand as I used to work as an Elephant Haberdasher during the Vietnam War. It is very difficult to craft headwear for such gigantic beasts, but they sit through the fittings with a smile on their faces. I realize that the scientists who discovered these elephants are not releasing their coordinates for fear of poaching, but I do hope that every single one of them is splendidly outfitted with a hat, like the ones you see here. It does so much for their self-esteem.

Dashingly Yours,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Put Me Down You Aniston-Loving Fool!

Ah dear friends, since I am currently in Malibu helping La Lohan, I thought it might be nice to go for a stroll with my dear old chums the Cox-Arquettes. No one saw it fit to mention that she would be there. I say! Don't people even remember the t-shirt craze of 6 months ago? I'm team Jolie-Pitt goddammitt! Aniston has no place in my paparazzi photos.

Seriously Miffed and hoping Angelina doesn't read the tabs,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Mittingtons to Play Melfi to Lohan!

Dear Chums, as you know, I am not one to leave friends in the lurch. Which is why, very late last night, I allowed myself to be packed up in my terrible little cat holder and shipped in the luggage hold of American flight 107 straight to Malibu. Yes, Ms. Lohan has checked into Promises Rehab and the wary staff pleaded with yours truly to bring his expertise to the situation. You see, I was deeply involved in the psychaitric LSD experiments of the late 50s, but I'll save those flashbacks for a later date... Regardless, it was a unanimous decision amongst those working at the facility that I was the only man for the job. So here I am! We had our first session this morning and obviously Lilo has a ways to go. I do believe she was trying to seduce me! Yes me! Horace Mittingtons the Third! I say, this might be quite the case of pussy against pussy.

I am burying my nose in Freud's On Narcissism and Beyond The Pleasure Principle.

Desperately searching for answers in hopes of a Mean Girls 2,
Dr. Horace Mittingtons

OC OD?

I say! I heard word Mischa Barton was rushed to hospital due to an unfortunate combo of alcohol and antibiotics. Purrrr- haps.... but I did take this picture of her at a nightclub in Cannes a few days back....

Horace Mittingtons 007

Never Fear Lindsay! Horace Mittingtons to the Rescue!

Ah my friends. It was Horace Mittingtons' favorite kind of weekend. The sort that involves little pop tarts recklessly endangering their own lives and the lives of others. I thought I'd start with a letter that I composed (in long-hand on foolscap as my dear old computer met its unfortunate demise on Friday) to send to Miss Lohan after she crashed her car into a post and was caught with a "do-able amount" of cocaine in the car.

Dear Ms. Lohan and all your tarty cohorts,
Allow me to introduce myself, I am Mr. Mittingtons. I would like to pose a question to you that I hope you will be so kind as to answer. Why on earth don't you take a few bills from the piles beneath your mattress and hire a chauffer? It seems foolish for a woman of your public stature and obvious lack of self-control to be driving herself around town.

I, Horace Mittingtons the Third would like to volunteer for the job. I used to ferry the Kennedies around pre- camelot, and I am quite handy with a stick. And with me behind the wheel, if you feel the urge to flash your pussy to the pappys I can just roll down the window and do the work for you. You can pay me in clotted cream and china white.
Meow! I look forward to nights spent out front of les deux waiting for the nectar of your insides to coat the back seat of my limo.
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Maddox Jolie-Pitt... Spawn Of Satan?

I am currently issuing forth this particular dispatch from a rather seedy internet cafe in the lesser known skid row area of Cannes. You might ask why I would do this when I have a perfectly good laptop of my own. Your answer is, I do not! That dastardly child Maddox thought it a spelendid idea to practice his hammer skills on the screen of my beloved machine. Pushing rapscallionism to new heights. I say! After much caterwauling and some threatened scratching, Mumsies promised me a new one, but only after I cleaned my litter box... what the hell do we have maid service for? And, as there is no Best Buy in Cannes, I will have to wait until
Monday.

So old chums, have a glorious weekend. And lets just hope nothing too sensational happens this weekend.
Your Unintentional Luddite,
Mr. Mittingtons

Mr. Mittingtons Thought He Loved Faye Dunaway.... He Was Wrong!

Nothing fuels my rage more than unauthorized petting of Mr. Mittingtons. Do I come up to you and run my claws through your hair and tickle you under the chin and altogether humiliate and disgust you? I think not! But humans, especially crazy ones, are terribly rude. Yesterday after being hounded incessantly all afternoon by the razzis I finally got a minute to enjoy a buttermilk biscuit and a Sanka with my dear friend Trevor. Who should interrupt our bonhomie but a very riled up and screaming Faye Dunaway. Nattering on to her assistant about a missed flight loudly enough that I do believe the apes of Gibralter were rudely woken from their afternoon siestas. The silly old twit obviously hasn't eaten a morsel of food in years. A word from the wise, the anorexic look is best saved for those with supple skin which clings nicely to the bone! I was tempted to offer her a bite of my scone, but before I had the chance she was standing over me, extending a bony little hand to pet me! And that's not all! The woman was wearing surgical gloves. In the near summer heat of the French Riviera. The next time I am over at her house I am going to spray her couch.

Chinatown is officially off my favorite movie list!
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Look Out Hasselback! Here Comes Horace Mittingtons the Third!

I say! These Hollywood types have no respect for sleep. Much to my chagrin an early morning telephone call pulled me from a reverie involving a cute little tabby, a ball gag, and an all you can eat tuna salad buffet. It was Barbara Walters.
"Howace! We need woo!"

You see, it turns out Rosie is gone from the View for good, she isn't even going to fulfill the last three weeks of her contract because if she has to see on Elisabeth Hasselback ever again she will be forced to poke her own eyes out with a fork. Never fear loyal View fans, Mr. Mittingtons won't dissapoint. I can be terribly foul-mouthed if provoked, and I am terribly fond of completely contadicting myself. Plus, I hear from a source that cat dander makes Elisabeth Hasselback break out in welts. I have put away my Head and Shoulders.

Meow,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Call me Mr. Miffingtons

Thank you to anonymous who sent me this piece of the View I missed due to my monocle fogging up. Look at how that woman from Clueless snubs Lady Hasselback. I say ! Quite a performance. P.S. Mr. Mittingtons is rather sauced right now. Who left the Chablis out? Angelina, that's who.
Arsh Kanarsh,
Mr. Horace Mittingtons the Thidlkj

Do you think Mr. Mittingtons Could Pass For Michael Jackson?

Well I've never! The prince of Brunei is turning the ripe old age of 25 and he has decided to spend 14 million dollars on his party! Don't get too excited yet, partygoers. There will only be 4 million left to actually buy the food and drinks and harlots after the prince forks out $10 million dollars to Michael Jackson just to show up. He's not even going to moonwalk. A load of Bollocks, that's what I think.

yours in abbhorance of the expenditures of arab royalty,
Mr. Mittingtons

Brangelina Springs Mr. Mittingtons!

Well old chaps, your comrade Mr. Mittingtons was finally released from his prison this morning. Les Amis des Chiens are certainly not les amis des chats, no matter what Francoise at the front desk might tell you. I was feeling terribly worse for wear, and really needed a hot toddy and a milk bath, but mumsies and pops had different plans. They took three of us to the park to mug for the pappys. I say! You might not be able to see it in the picture, but Maddox is actually biting the back of my skull. This child is insufferable. Soon he will probably see fit to put me in a bonnet and parade me about in a pram. And you can bet your bottom dollar that super-duo will do nothing but cheer him on! I am beginning to miss the quiet solitude of my cell.

Yours in Irritation,
Mr. Horace Mittingtons the Third

I told you! The Idol is Jordin Sparks!

Well everyone was at the Kodak Theatre tonight: David Alan Grier, Jerry Springer, Jennifer Hudson, the guy from The Shield, that insufferable twit from Everybody Loves Raymond, even the Hoff sobered up long enough to stumble to his seat. Everyone was there.... except of course, yours truly, Mr. Mittingtons. Brad had all his Ocean's Thirteen interviews to attend to... and Angie, well, I'm not sure about old mumsies. She just announced she was taking a year off to be with her children, and yet still I languish behind bars! Someone call the bloody UN ambassador!

Anyways, luckily my cellmate is a delightful little fellow named Mr. Pookingtons, who kindly traded the last of his beloved milk bone flavored tobacco to Smitty in exchange for a loan of his television. Mr. Pookingtons old chum, I salute you! And Randy Jackson did have the courtesy to call before broadcast.
"Who's gonna take it Mr. Mittingtons, man? Call it!"
Call it I did

The night was no dissapointment. Mark my words, it was a singing spectacular to rival only the finest production of CATS. What with that fellow from Aerosmith rocking the guitar with Sanjaya, the Divine Ms. M, Tony Bennett, and Mr. Mittington's favorite, Gladys Knight. Did you know I used to be a pip? I bet you didn't. See for yourself Woo woo! Oh the tales I could tell, but this day belongs to Ms. Jordin Sparks.

Congratulations! When I get out of this prison I will be sure to buy 1,000,000 copies of your single with mumsy's Black card.

Does anyone watch Prison Break? Is it a how-to show? I think I need some help.
Cheerio
Inmate # 36709867

Coley Laffoon Could Be Mr. Mittington's Biggest Fan!

Hello old chaps! I was just perusing the newswire that is TMZ.com and guess what I discovered!? A new twist in the divorce proceedings of Anne Heche and Mr. Coley Laffoon. Seems the chap "plays ping-pong, backgammon, poker, and views pornography online" all day instead of being the Super Dad he claims to be. Hmmm.... I'm thinking he has been mesmerised by the erotic efforts of yours truly, Mr. Mittingtons. I'd have to agree that I am enough to enchant even the most puritanical optic nerves. MEOWWWW!

Note to Mr. Laffoon, I am available for a game of table tennis any time, just gie me a dingle-doo if you're up for it!

Lustily Yours,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Sheryl Crow Must Be Dreaming!

Caveat Emptor! When this issue of OK magazine hits the line-up at your grocery store, don't be fooled by their cunning connivery! Trying to convince the world that yours truly has been adopted by Miss Sheryl Crow. I say! Sheryl Crow might be a perfectly nice dame but her loyalties lie on an opposite plain to mine. She is most definitely Team Aniston. And you all know which team I play for!

Yours in consternation,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

Guess What!? I Like Facts!

Oh how Horace adores a cat fight! I was quite the prize fighter in my day, punching pussies left and right, let me tell you.... but I had nothing on these folks. Now I must say that it is hard for dear old Horace to pick a side between the Loud-mouthed Fat Lesbian and the cute little puritan girl. I say we should settle this once and for all with a vat of jell-o and some string bikinis. Who's with me!!!!




To quote Rosie:
"If the enemy are innocent civilians, I don't want to play that kind of football." Mr. Mittingtons agrees, he hates football.

Porky Mittingtons To Be Slimmonized!

Blimey! I have been informed by Mumsies and Pops that I am looking a little round at the edges. These two know nothing of the virtues of a happy cat. Believe me, the camera really does add ten pounds, these two are nothing but skin and bones! To hazard a cliche, they really do remind me of the bean poles I used to aid me in my farming days, but that's a different story isn't it...

And so, much to my dismay, I have been subjected to the training tactics of Celebrity Fitness Guru, Mr. Richard Simmons. I say! My muscles have never felt so lithe... or so painfully cramped. I have been rendered weary from hour long training sessions, six times a day. And to top it all off, my ears seem to be bleeding. Richard Simmons makes a lot of noise for such a little man. I might have to scratch his eyes out.

Pray For Me
Mr. Horace Mittingtons the Third

Brangelina Dines For $250,000 Each, Mr. Mittingtons Eats Fancy Feast Off A Paper Plate

Bet you didn't know they had Doggy Daycare in Cannes! Well, they do, and yours truly isn't amused. Early last evening Mums and Pops debriefed the baby sitter on what macrobiotic foodstuffs to feed the children. Zahara only eats organic eggplants farmed in the same latitude in which she was born. Pax is still partial to fried silkworms from his native Vietnam, so Angie had the help whip up the faux, tempeh version. Shiloh eats only the nectar of the Goddess herself. And that awful Maddox insists on gold spun like sugar and served on a solid silver cone. Well I've Never!

I couldn't help but notice that my name had been carelessly left off the list. I tried to get mumsies attention, but she simply pushed my on to the tiny ornamental balcony and left me there for dead. Turns out they had other plans for yours truly. Doggie Daycare! Yes, you heard me correctly, I said Doggie... not Kitty. It has a quaint name like Les Amis Des Chiens, but it is certainly anything but quaint. I just had my anus sniffed by a Great Dane named Smitty who said he was thinking about making me his bitch. I say. Someone send the Fire Brigade! This pussy is certainly up a tree!

Yours in Trembling Fear,
Horace Mittingtons the Third

If Mr. Mittingtons Could Dial A Phone, He'd Vote For Jordin Sparks

I say! Quite the performance. I was terribly upset by the departure of Melinda Doolittle, but perhaps Jordin Sparks can fill the aching gap in my poor little heart! And to top it off, Paula Abdul pulled off her broken nose with barely a twitch, and the top part of her face obviously helped this, being frozen perfectly in place. I only wish my vetrinarian could perform such miracles... I bet you didn't know I used to have a long and lean snout! Smashed in by a runaway calliope player back in my circus days.... but that is a different story.
Meow and Goodnight
Mr. Horace Mittingtons the Third

Katee Holmes is Mr. Mittingtons' Alter Ego!

I say! I've caused quite a stir! You see, I was fooling around a little on the internet, looking on a few of my favorite sites at all their young talent. And I was thinking to myself, "I could do that!"
And so after much consideration, yours truly, Mr. Mittingtons, decided to make my own fortune in pornography. I named myself Katee Holmes, in homage to my favorite Dawson's Creek actress. Notice how clever I was? I changed the i to an e and now even the son of Scientology's legal team can't get me. I think I'm going to be rich. What do you think?

I've sent my picture into all of the little production houses. I think my addition of the stuffed chicken adds to my sex appeal immensely.
Wish me luck ragamuffins!
Cheerio
Horace Mittingtons The Third

Paula Abdul's Nose Broken By Chihuahuan Scum!

Many people don't know of my many successes in the world of dance. I have soft-shoed my way across all the stages of Broadway and Drury Lane in my day, but my favorite had to be the time I spent with Dance Wunderkind Paula Abdul. How we danced! And how we drank. Paula prefers Pinot Noir and Pimms, a drink I call the Bloody British Bastard.

That is why I am saddened to announce that Paula has flattened her pretty probiscus by tripping over the leashes of her terrible little mutts! My condolences Paula! I do hope you'll make it to the Kodak Theatre tonight to see Jordin and Blake duke it out. Without you I fear that American Idol may run the risk of crossing over into low-brow mainstream entertainment.

Maddox is Cambodian for Tail-Puller

I am writing this entry locked away once more in my dastardly little box. I am beginning to see a pattern here. Lately I have been let out for little more than the occassional Paparazzi fiesta, an endeavor I am told brings millions of dollars to children worldwide. The problem being, Mr. Mittingtons loathes children.

But this is not the largest of my troubles, dear friends. I have been informed that I am expected to take the Jolie-Pitt name as my moniker. Horace Jolie-Pitt. I lobbied with my new parents, pleading at least to be known as Mr. Mittingtons Jolie-Pitt. I almost had them too, my compelling arguements coupled with my melodic purr and a little legs rubbing seemed to have the arguement strictly on my side. And then...

Maddox. That evil little mohawked beast. Foiled my plans as usual. He piped up saying that the rest of them had been re-christened upon entering the household and to be fair I should also undergo the same psychological upheaval. My purring has nothing on this child's tantrum stomping. This morning I was informed by Ms. Jolie that she would be renaming me Ajmal Babr Jolie-Pitt, which means something like beautiful cat in persian. I say! Blimey! What claptrap!

I am currently trying to remove myself from this box by scratching a hole in the plastic. Alas my claws have been rendered bloody and raw, and no progress at all has been made. Please help me. Meow.

Yours in peril,
Mr. Horace Ajmal Babr Jolie-Pitt Mittingtons the Third

Brangelina Adopts Horace Mittingtons the Third!

Yes, it is true, Brangelina have graciously opened up their home to a new arrival from across the pond. Yours Truly! I can't say I've ever been so giddy with anticipation as I made the short trip from London to Cannes this morning (Brad and Angie and the kids are all here, promoting Angie's new vehicle, A Mighty Heart). My dashing new parents picked me up at the airport and I was thrilled, although I was a little saddened that only one of my new siblings deigned to make an appearance (Little Zahara, I've always thought you were the cutest!).

We're currrently staying at a grand hotel that serves spit-fired mice topped with the most delicate Bearnaise I have ever laid tongue upon! Unfortunately. I have found myself locked away in a box in a box after an incident that surely was not instigated by yours truly. That spoiled brat Maddox, not only pulled my tail, but also poked me six times in my bad eye! I, of course showing utmost reserve and restraint, kept my scratches of self-defense strictly below that oft-photographed little mug. The problem with these Hollywood types, nothing is ever good enough! I hope to make amends tomorrow by offering forth hairballs to each and every member of the family as a token of my appreciation. If that doesn't work I shall simply have to mark each of them as my territory.

Toodle-oo old chums, til tomorrow.
Horace Mittinngtons the Third