… or as I like to call it Christina Aguilera and her Ugly Husband’s weird ass place.

I guess this was from InStyle 2009. You know, another one of the celeb rags where the editors want to believe desperately that you really give a crap about these celebrities and their lives. You know, because they are just like the rest of us. Instead, we all know we want to look at these pictures and feel better about ourselves because if we had no talent and a butt load of money we sure as hell wouldn’t do up our houses like they do.

For this edition of Casa Moxie’s Celeb Cribs, instead of channeling Christina Aguilera  (which thankfully I can’t), I will instead be your tour guide of her home. If you don’t know this was previously the Osbourne’s house.

Here is Christina in her bed. In her office. I am guessing that she likes to have massive amounts of sex in her office with her ugly husband to research the hits for her next album. “Oh baby baby…Oh yeah, that’s it! Uh, nevermind, crazy Britney already had a song like that. Okay, start up again. Oh… yeah, I can’t put my pen down.”

Welcome to Christina’s salon. Doesn’t this look just like your home salon? I know it looks exactly like mine. Minus the chairs, the mirrors, the disembodied head on the shelf and the creepy blue mannequin in the corner. Other than that… an exact replica. How does she do it?

The game room is hot. I am totally digging the pink felt on the pool table and the chandeliers. The green paint, not so much. Was it on clearance at Home Depot? Did the golf club decide “Nah, let’s go wild, unexpected… let’s go lavender!” It’s making me flash back to my youth of green and pink “Now and Later” candy. I’m not quite sure if the drapes are red, but if they are, maybe they are fans of Christmas and Watermelons. It could be their very own weird tradition.

Ahh, breakfast with the family. The kid looks like he’s asking “How the hell did I get here and what is my mom doing with my ugly ass father?” Anyway, here she is in her odd dress, feeding her child, as I fed my baby. In 6-inch heels. With my hair perfect, just recently done in my personal salon. With my husband. Looking like he just got back from the Bass Pro Shop.

With our meal in hand, we can head over to the dining room. As you can see, this is straight out of an 1980s restaurant joint venture. The restaurant failed. Not sure why people weren’t into the Mediterranean Chinese Irish fusion. None the less, Christina, that dirty girl, picked up a fabulous bargain on this room.

As we stroll around the abode, we come across this lovely vignette. Marilyn Monroe. Andy Warhol. Mangled by some “artist”. Whatever. I do want to point out the portrait of our dirty girl in the book right below. I guess she wants us to draw some conclusion. What would that be? Dead Marilyn Monroe is looking down upon Christina’s portrait and thinking to herself… “Jesus Mary and Joseph! What in the world have I gotten myself into? Where’s the Nembutol?”

Yeah, the shoe portion of the closet. What a collection of shoes. I mean a girl can’t have enough of those black boots.  There has to be at least 20 pairs of black boots. Well, I guess when you dress up in prostitute outfits a lot, you do need to find just the right black boot. Maybe it’s to kick her ugly ass husband in the ass after their spawn just chucked all her shoes on her leopard print carpet? Not sure, but the important thing to note about this architectural wonder is another mannequin. Wearing an scarf, hat and an eye patch. I know, I wish I only had to see this with one eye, too.

The dirty girl has led us up to her bedroom for the last stop on the Suck Train. I wonder when Architectural Digest will want to shoot this special space? I mean I am sure they already have this on the list. So here’s the bed. Where she and her husband like to do it. A lot. I think she said in an interview that she likes to walk around naked all the time. In the house. Thought I should clarify that. I mean, sometimes, she doesn’t wear enough clothing to cover an amoeba and well, you know. So I wonder if she makes her ugly ass husband play the theme song to “Remington Steel” when he carries her up to the bed for a long love making session that can be timed on a stop watch?

Oh? What’s that? Yes, Ozzy, you have something to say about your former home?

“SHARON!!!! What in t-t-t-t-t-t-the *bleep* did this *bleeping* girl and her u-u-u-u-u-ugly ass hus-b-b-b-band do to our h-h-h-h-h-home? I t-t-t-t-t-think I n-n-n-n-need a b-b-b-b-bat’s h-h-h-h-ead to c-c-c-c-calm me d-d-down.”