By Lex August 29, 2014 @ 9:02 AM
This Australian model is dating the dude who defended the blue people in Avatar. Once you’ve saved the tree huggers from big oil, you can have your pick of models around the world. I rescued the Na’vi, while in a fucking wheelchair, how about you come back to my room and gobble my knob? Everybody has to do their part to keep the tree of souls glowing.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI
By Lex August 29, 2014 @ 8:44 AM
I blame hip hop culture. For everything. Before rap, gasoline was ten cents a gallon, the merriment of children filled the streets, and big fat asses were simply known as big fat asses. Grotesquely enlarged butts just peaked in Barbados where Coco’s ass cheeks lifted her out of the water like pontoons harpooned into the side of a great white to keep it from diving. I would never tell another man what ought give you your jollies, but I do get to decide who comes to my Super Bowl party. If the thought of spelunking for that thong puts you in the reproductive mood, you’re not touching my chips and dip.
Photo Credit: Splash
By Lex August 28, 2014 @ 2:03 PM
If you’ve never dated a woman with crazy eyes, you’re really missing out on one of life’s true risky pleasures. I don’t care if you scaled Everest using just your dick and a rubber band, until you’ve been with a woman who urges you to get some sleep while she stares catatonically at the kitchen knives, you’ve never really taken chances. If she asks you if you like her best friend, that’s just code for, how shall I sever your cock in your sleep? Because she doesn’t have any best friends. She worships the black raven that carries communiques from the Dark Lord in her head. Other women can see that. You were blinded by a chick who liked ropes in bed. Now your junk is in the garbage disposal and she ate your left eye for good measure. Regret only worsens behind an eye-patch.
Photo Credit: FHM
By Lex August 28, 2014 @ 1:24 PM
After copious amounts of heroin, Russell Brand decided his life had to have more meaning than just being an occasionally funny comedian who makes the same occasionally funny movie over and over again. Some people’s soul searching leads them to crude medical clinics in the Congo, for performers it’s either unintelligible indie films or writing op-ed pieces in the newspaper. Nobody rich really wants to soul search their way into a case of ebola.
Russell Brand doubled down on his spiritual awakening by granting a documentary team total access to his life for the past few years. Since the only thing people could possibly be interested in involving Brand’s spiritual journey was his short-lived marriage to Katy Perry, even the filmmakers are letting slip that that will form a solid bulk of the documentary content. Watching Brand stroke himself while reading Malcolm X will comprise the remaining eighteen percent of screen time.
For Katy Perry this means a ton of the unpleasant and real shit her publicity and legal team spend so many countless hours and money destroying in the virtual shredder will likely be onscreen. While marriage to Russell Brand has to be akin to shoving a rusty nails up your ass until you feel it whittling the back of your molars, word always was that Katy was a total cunty nightmare of a spouse. This doesn’t bode well for her. Brand makes his living off being an asswipe. Katy by pretending to be the exact opposite. I would not be surprised to see a horrible fire in the documentarians post-production facility that takes out all known copies off the footage. The only forensic clues left behind of brightly colored feathers and shreds of nipple tape.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI
By Lex August 28, 2014 @ 12:47 PM
I might be juvenile, but I got excited when Halle Berry almost showed off where babies of fifty year olds come from. I bet she’s had that vagina surgery that gives her twat the size, grip, and poor decision making skills of a teenager again. I’m sure her French husband benefits from thinking about that while he’s making sweet love to his dutiful male assistant. French men are gay jokes are cheap, but they still make me giggle.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI
By Lex August 28, 2014 @ 10:43 AM
In a battle of veracity between TMZ and social media hoaxers, there’s no clear way to pick the more reliable source. TMZ has a reporting accuracy of 12-percent, while people making up shit on Twitter sit at zero-percent, though far more self-aware and entertaining. Joan Rivers went into cardiac arrest during what is being described as out-patient throat surgery this morning. I’ll take that to mean tightening the Shar-Pei flaps billowing around her gizzard. She was rushed to Mount Sinai where nobody who knows shit currently knows her condition. But the celebrity media loves them some life cycle events. They pen obituaries and tributes in advance so they can publish while the fingertips are still warm. Not such a bad idea really as far as death hacks. I just didn’t mind for Joan, just in case.
Joan Rivers, occasionally funny, always cunty, the gays have lost a solid crone. RIP. Or see you on Fashion Police next Friday. Whichever way this turns.
Photo credit: E! Television