We don’t get many coherent letters. J.R. noted we have had lousy tits today so why not show the leaked Batman vs. Superman trailer. I have no good answer for rhetorical questions. Best guess is a Peruvian on $5 Insanity busted into a screening room and captured the trailer on his cell phone. He was later arrested and sent to the soccer stadium you don’t come home from. The trailer was supposed to come out Monday, but tech nerd is the new strong so it was inevitable this shit would get pilfered early. As a summary, two hot brooding dudes in capes and latex wrestle until one surrenders. If you can’t wait a year for the movie to come out, visit the gayest bar in your vicinity on any given Saturday to witness the same in a cage. Take that, Taliban. We win.
ABC is teasing the shit out of the upcoming Diane Sawyer sit down with Bruce Jenner. It’s pretty much all they’ve had since Lost went off the air. They’re in danger of dropping below Oprah’s Fat and Fatter Channel in viewership. They blur out Bruce Jenner in the promos as if the aired interview is going to show him looking like an intoxicated Judy Garland struggling through My Funny Valentine. It’s just a ponytail. Jenner’s choice to become a woman is going to inspire so many women trapped inside Olympic decathlete gold medalist’s bodies to get their own Diane Sawyer interviews. You’re either on the right or wrong side of history. No matter how you feel about Jenner’s decision, you have to support him. I mean, you actually have to. It’s the law.
Dennis Quaid blew up on the set of some shitty movie he was shooting presumably because Josh Brolin had the part in the movie he really wanted. Quaid was apparently pissed because when you shoot a film for a community college film program you occasionally have people on set who don’t know what they’re doing. The tirade seems fake but you have to realize Quaid is related to his fugitive brother Randy and mental illness runs in families if not passed down by spoons full of boiled Clorox and needles. If indeed a spoof on Christian Bale’s similar freak out on the Terminator set a few years back this is kind of funny. Although Bale is an actor and Dennis Quaid plays a subservient man bitch in most of his Lifetime movies. He’s treading on Andy Dick status where you act like an asshole and people will just smack you in the mouth or threaten to fire you instead of kowtowing to your horse shit. It’s not worth all the paperwork. How are you a key grip and you can’t hold your iPhone sideways? I call bogus.
Madonna joined Drake on stage at Coachella and kissed him on the mouth, causing him to gag and wretch and talk to Jewish Jesus and then immediately go get his dick sucked by a nineteen year old pixie dust spreader. The whole scene is bizarre. As Madonna is kissing him he starts flailing his limbs around like he’s being raped by a toothless hillbilly. Madonna for her part announces her own name like she’s a pro wrestler and walks off stage with her old lady buns hanging out of her stripper attire. Drake’s public relations people are now spinning that he was just grossed out by her lipstick and not being involuntarily tongue jabbed by someone older than his mom but not as good looking. When dudes are repulsed by you making out with them it’s time to hang up the Road Warrior lingerie. You just ruined Coachella’s trending popular line graph. Bake a pie and call it a day.
Somebody who counts the money decided it was time to get Kylie Jenner working the Snapchat pole. The teen reality star with the ‘some sixth grade’ education used her first snap video to film herself putting her hand down her sister Kendall’s pants. This is either obscene or by far the best fifteen seconds the Kardashians have produced since Ray J doubled down on the OTC lotion. Snapchat videos are supposed to self-destruct after ten seconds so parents and the god you pray to can never see them, but that technology also took about ten seconds to hack and figure out how to store and save. Kylie noted on her Snapchat that she’s now taking a temporary break from the app to study the works of Kant, or possibly grab some fro-yo and get knocked up by her platonic older male friend, Tyga. With her days free, she could probably squeeze in both.
Photo Credit: SnapChat/Instagram
Kate Upton didn’t ask to be a blond buxom model making bank and dating pro athletes, but there you go. Her drive to not be seen as a sex object is matched only by the speed at which she accepts cash so men can splash jizz onto grandma’s best carpet thinking about her in a bikini. Upton’s latest historical revision involves a claims that she chastised creepy Uncle Terry for releasing the Cat Daddy bikini dance video of her onto the net, ensuring she’d be super famous in Borneo within seconds.
[Kate Upton] told Vogue UK in a new interview that she was horrified to see the minute-long video of herself dancing while wearing an extremely small bikini go viral, in part because she thought it had just been filmed for fun and wouldn’t be seen by anyone who wasn’t at the photoshoot. “That was disrespectful, you could have told me!” the 21-year-old said she told photographer Terry Richardson
Terry Richardson is known for two things. Being super fucking creepy and sharing the shit out of every photo he’s ever taken. If he’s keeping any media private, it involves Romanian orphans being fucked to death by bears wearing tiny hats. Shots of your jiggling tits are not going in the storage locker. You don’t need to lie about who brought you to the dance, Kate. Flash your tits, point to the imaginary scoreboard, and we’ll gladly give you our money. I don’t remember the last five Kate Uptons slogging us through this same guilt trip.
Cornell’s Assistant Dean Joseph Scaffido is accepting of other cultures and beliefs in the progressive tradition. Even terrorists who are into beheading children and Death to America. Someone made an undercover video where they asked him if ISIS would be welcome on Cornell’s campus:
“Maybe we could get like a freedom fighter to come and do a training camp for students?”
At this point you have to figure you’re being trolled. You might even want to reach for that protractor in your drawer and tell security to check the bridges. Scaffido said there’s no need to worry, terrorists are free to train at Cornell so long as their Toyota trucks sport a Coexist bumper sticker:
“You would be allowed to do something like that, it’s just like bringing in a coach to do a training camp on a sports team or something.”
A coach would be banned from campus if he yelled at the power forward and he complained to his therapists. When people say they’re big on diversity, try them out on Thanksgiving dinner invites for 2nd Amendment diehards. They mean superficial diversity, trust me. Don’t send your kids to Cornell unless you want to breed an annoying radical terrorist with a gluten allergy. These beards are itchy.
This chick is Portuguese which makes her the perfect model to be leading a fast food restaurant push into Mexican themed burgers. The Thickburger El Diablo has raw jalapeños, deep-fried jalapenos, and a slathering of groundwater scum collected from an alley behind an Ixtapa area Futbol Club. It’s authentic. Your colon will bleed in both directions. Apparently it’s all the rage among hot chicks in ice hotels frequented by Nordic metrosexuals. The screams you here in the frozen outhouse are just pain leaving the body. Drop a deuce for the devil. You are free, mi amigo.
Photo Credit: Carl’s Jr
A Filipino dad moved to the U.S. and started directing his preschool aged children to play with toys on camera for his YouTube channel. Nothing novel until millions of people started watching the videos daily. I’d blame it on the pedos, why not, but they simply don’t fill enough ranks to explain the views. This perversion runs far deeper. It’s that disturbing trend of women immersed in other people’s offspring. It starts with a few Likes for baby photos on Facebook photos and the next thing you know you’re up to seven hours a day watching kids you don’t know jumping into urine soaked shopping mall playpens. You know you should stop, but you can’t. You could call your sponsor, but she’s watching too. It’s just so damn delicious.
The genius family in question chooses not to share their last names, which is smart, since several hundred unstable fat women with knives want desperately to live with them. The dad says he’ll take in $1.5 million in video revenue this year, second only to YouTube itself which will take in about 800 billion times infinity exploiting kiddy home videos. The family is buying cars and homes and of course saving up college funds for whichever ones of their kids haven’t killed themselves by eighteen. Two out of three seems a safe estimate.
Eventually, all visual media whittles down to the ability to see naked chicks doing stuff. Maybe this will change if we ever get girls to start pursuing engineering degrees like they pretend to do in the college promos run during NCAA sporting events. This chick in Argentina gets the basic principle. She started filming videos of herself in the kitchen barely covering her titties and she got eight billion views. Most of the world doesn’t understand what she’s saying. Nobody cares. Look at those avocados. I want to marry her off to my cousin then sleep with her behind his back. That fucker owes me money. She owes me nothing, yet she’s giving so much. Life is easy when you’re good looking and your breasts are what’s for dinner.
If you are shaped like one of those things you squirt into a baby’s ear you’re in luck because Coco Austin is launching a lingerie company. In earlier times Coco would be rounded into a caravan to tour mill towns with the bearded woman and that goat with two heads. Times have changed. Not for better or worse. Just different. The company is called Cocolicious Lingerie and if you buy it for your girlfriend she’ll think you’re calling her fat because you are. It will premiere at the end of the month at a party held at the shadiest strip club near LAX if it isn’t shut down first. Remember to rock your grill. My money says the whole thing is an excuse to make a bunch of these twerking videos so she can show off her subcutaneous undulations. Mona Lisa wasn’t that hot. It’s all relative. To be followed up with a line of sexy designer seatbelt extensions.
Some insane chick with a thick Cuban accent beat the shit out of a tricked out Ford while a guy sat inside and just kind of watched. She was wearing a bikini and had huge tits hence this is automatically more interesting than any Hillary Clinton story. The guy obviously did something to piss her off such as not paying her fair wages just because she’s a woman. Or maybe it was just a lover’s spat or some bullshit reality show stunt. There are plenty of those these days. She certainly seemed to be attacking the car for real. That hard to hurt. If we could teach pissed off bikini girl to use her powers for good instead of evil she could be unstoppable. Take a knee. Actually make it two.
Kim Kardashian’s claim that she has sex with Kanye five hundred times a day seems exaggerated. It’s probably closer to fifty and only some of that is Kanye. That’s entire reason for the bakery Turn-O-Matic tickets at the entrance to Kim’s fuck cave. Plausible deniability. Also to stop vehicles from ramming.
Kim’s revelation comes in the latest promo for her sister-whores program which officially surpasses the nine year Iraq War as the longest pointless engagement in our nation’s history. Khloe makes a face like somebody stole her last four pastrami sandwiches and Kris tries to pretend she can voluntarily twitch her facial muscles. Not watching is not an option. Kim and Kanye just fucked seventeen times in the two minutes it took you to read this. This is what it’s like when doves cry.
Photo Credit: PacificCoastNews
Puffy faced former WWE star Chyna posted a video of herself twerking while high on muscle relaxers as another cry for help. Chyna’s Twitter account is a running exercise in morbid exhibitionism. Mundane video blogs about tampons and strung out musings on birch bark to be used as cutaways on a Real Sports segment about how fucked up pro wrestlers are. Keep it in the can, we’ll run out of shit one of these days. Back Door to Chyna set the bar at sad. If that didn’t inspire an intervention then your friends either don’t like you or are just too fucked up to move. Save it for Dr Phil but I’m not buying your book. Your socks are dirty.
Award winning porn actress Tory Lane got arrested on a fight from Atlanta to LAX for going full berserker. No doubt this will be explained as a bad reaction to Ambien similar to Paris Hilton’s little brother, Dipshit Hilton, punching a flight attendant and calling everybody in economy class ‘fucking peasants’. Lane was out of her mind screaming and kicking fellow passengers, so not much different than the typical kids on the flight, only unlike those crying babies, she’s actually contributed something positive to the world.
The flight crew finally restrained Lane to her seat. Cops came on board after the flight arrived in Los Angeles and Lane punched several of them as well. That’s the kind of commitment only a woman who’s taken a thousand cocks in her ass truly can. The authorities took Tory Lane to bad girl jail where she is no doubt sucking a ponytailed guard’s dick through the bars while a chick in for shoplifting is fingering Lane’s distended starfish stomach like labia. You can’t actually punish porn stars.
Golden Tate is still denying the rumor he banged Russell Wilson’s wife which led him to be traded from the Seahawks long after anyone has given a shit. Tate was in Beverly Hills with his girlfriend and two Russian chicks with giant tits having a low key night out. When asked about it by one of TMZ’s paint huffing cameramen Tate put the blame on Wilson for not squashing the rumors:
“It’s sad that he’s letting it go on.”
Maybe he has more important things going on than to hold a press conference over something only you still talk about. Maybe, being a good Christian, he knows you banged his wife, he doesn’t want to lie, and he’s happily divorced her and moved on. It should be noted Wilson’s ex-wife is supposedly best friends with Tate’s current girlfriend who is hamming it up for camera shine. So he’s denying a rumor he fucked another chick in front of his girlfriend, and throwing another dude under the bus. If this shit really went down he’s the worst person ever. I would have done the exact same thing.
There seem to be more and more sex offenders getting busted. I’ll just assume they’re not as clever as they used to be. Stephen Collins confessing on tape how he liked to flash his dingle to young girls in the neighborhood. Rookie move. Your old school scout masters and pageant judges used to keep stable marriages and built bird feeders in the garage to cover their need for paneled vans. Aleksander Robin Tomaszewski was snatched up by Oregon police in connection to a sex abuse crime. He got the bright idea that Lady Justice might let him go if he was a victim of police brutality. I’m going to long shot guess he saw that somewhere on television. He took it upon himself to pound his own face in the holding cell about three dozen times then swear out a statement he was roughed up by the interviewing detectives.
Here’s the thing. First, you don’t get a Get Out of Jail Card for sex abuse because you got roughed up by cops. Second, when cops rough you up, they don’t slap you with forty light jabs and they don’t beat your face black and blue because they’re not stupid. Finally and most importantly, video camera. I could almost applaud the Jesus like effort to take one for the team if the team wasn’t comprised of one dude trying to skate on sex crimes. Punch harder next time. It’ll warm you up for what comes next.
One hit stoner-rapper wonder Afroman bravely sucker punched a drunk woman who had wandered up on stage at a show in Biloxi. The video shows Afroman grooving on his guitar, oblivious to the drunken Mardi Gras enthusiast trying to dance up on his booty. She grazes his ass and he instinctively turns around and knocks her the fuck out. It sure looks like he’s been waiting his entire life for an excuse to punch the next person who so much as touched him. Man, woman, or child.
The fact is, you have to defend your stage. God knows when you’ll get another booking. You’re never more vulnerable than when you’re playing an instrument you’re barely proficient in to a small crowd of people paying two-bucks per plastic cup of beer. If a moth buzzes your ear you’re liable to kick out the amps and go grind up Adderall in the alley. Afroman was booked into a Mississippi jail for assault and posted a $330 dollar bond, which constitutes several thousand American dollars. I think this was a misunderstanding. The guy was probably high, plus nervous about his thrice yearly live gig. At that point it’s on you. And your boyfriend who took you to see Afroman in Mississippi for Valentine’s.
The entire point of a celebrity roast is to see who can get liquored up and deliver the most outlandish slams on their fellow drinking buddies. It’s a universally understood concept by any man who’s ever drank too much with friends. It’s how men bond. And occasionally some cool women who you might want to get with after you’re too drunk to do anything about it. Sometimes the roast is funny, sometimes it sucks, but that’s the constant.
Justin Bieber doesn’t have witty cool friends and nobody wants to drink with him. He’s not the regular guy in the Miller commercial you identify with, he’s the dick drinking the pretentious cocktail. Comedy Central is roasting Justin Bieber because he’s famous and will draw a shitload of teen viewers who don’t even understand the goof. Also, he’s perfected the ‘c’mon, guys’ face for the people he’s never met who will be roasting him. We accept that Katy Perry comes out in a girdle with sharks at halftime to sing her hits. When the NFL insists she play QB for the team in the lead to promote fairness, that’s when we look for anything else sports on TV. Not that a Comedy Central Roast stands for much, but I suppose it stood for something. Now that something is gone. I’m starting to understand why old people are ready to pull the plug.
We all know that guy who does a ton of gay shit and laughs it off as a joke. A good deal of his late night social repertoire are bits where he shows you his junk then laughs like Bluebeard. Do you dare me to put this hot pepperoni slice on my nuts? Hahahahaha…let’s watch porn together. Dwight Howard pulled a real humdinger when he walked right up and grabbed teammate Isaiah Canaan’s package on the bench during a game. It’s possible Howard’s just a primal bully and was deciding last minute between a cock grab and a spiked club bludgeon to the head. In that case, way to ratchet down the violence. Or it’s possible he’s letting Canaan know that he’s got some Chablis on ice back at his crib and enough model hooker pussy to provide excellent cover. Life gets more complicated when the team captain grabs your dick.
Photo Credit: Vine
Afton Elaine Burton, the chick who is engaged to marry Charles Manson, was apparently just using the convicted murderer so she could profit from publicly displaying his corpse in a glass crypt once he dies. Manson thinks he’s immortal so he never considered this illicit motive. On the scale of super powers I’d put being immortal way above being able to break out of a shabby prison. Sounds like he might be full of shit. Also, if you’re immortal getting married is an awful idea for prenuptial reasons. It’s ironic a dude who brainwashed chicks into killing people is now being played as a fool. The difference: he was getting more pussy than Frank Sinatra during the dog days of acid. Now’s he’s lucky to get a hand job under a fold out table by the vending machine. What goes around comes around bitch.
Burton, also known as Star since she’s unoriginal, kind of claims the marriage is still on but who gives a shit. I wouldn’t drive more than two hours to see Charles Manson’s body encrypted behind glass at a truck stop. Ok maybe three. Definitely not more than two states.
It’s important to realize Pete Carroll would be lying in a shallow grave right now if the U.S. were any of the seventeen assorted South American dictatorships. After staying inside for four days and wondering why he just ordered the salmon pizza for delivery, why he put his hand on his buddy’s wife’s knee that one time, and why the fuck he called a passing play down the middle on the two inch line, he decided to show his face and talk to Matt Lauer. He was mostly apologetic:
“It’s been a whirlwind… I feel responsible for a lot of people right now… Within the instant of the turnover, the gravity of what just happened, I understood.”
Then Lauer asked him the rhetorical question of whether that was the worst play call in the history of the world. After thinking about his yellow PT Cruiser, his Sega stockholdings, and the metal detector he bought for the beach, Carroll ultimately bucked responsibility:
“It was the worst result of a call ever. The call would have been a great one if we’d caught it. It would have been just fine and nobody would have thought twice about it.”
The same way having thirty beers and driving home is a great idea if you aren’t arrested or don’t kill anyone. You wake up the next day saucer eyed wondering what you’ve done. Then you promise yourself not to do it again. That’s the lesson dickhead. Let Beast Mode drive you.
Ashley Graham is out to prove a point. Really hot chunky chicks with big ole fun titties are people too. The message is directed at the guys you and I have never met who would turn down a gorgeous overweight girl on principle. Ashley’s size fourteen is actually the average size of American women, but based on the average size portions at the Cheesecake factory, you’d know this is hardly a universe where the term average has any qualitative meaning. Ashley’s set to become the first plus sized model to ever appear in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition and she’s using the opportunity to horribly miseducated women:
It doesn’t matter if you’re a size 2 or 22 as long as you’re taking care of your body, working out, and telling yourself, ‘I love you’ instead of taking in the negativity of beauty standards.
Though it kind of matters. If you want to live. Until such time as positive affirmation cures diabetes. Now it’s just a matter of training up the seven-hundred person strong Photoshop department at SI to not go hog wild on airbrushing Ashley’s flab and defeating her raison d’être. Maybe they’l just eliminate her nipples twice.
Photo credit: ETOnline