Thanks for the over 100 qualified submissions we received for the WWTDD banner contest. We’ve whittled down these very solid entries into five we like the most, all quite different, one somewhat similar to the current banner, for traditionalists. As soon as we figure out our advanced polling technology and/or buy it for $8 from WordPress, we’ll put those entries up on the site for your voting.
Somebody’s going to win the $666. This is exciting. Somewhere between the thrill of the second round of a non-major LPGA tournament and the obligatory attendance at the wedding of a cousin you always thought was weird
Sarah Hyland was at the unveiling of the Heart cologne campaign last night held at Dylan’s Candy Bar. She looked great for a pygmy version of Mila Kunis and to make up for the fact that she’s not as good as the actual Mila Kunis she showed off a solid amount of cleavage for a very modest chested young lady. You can look at it guilt free too because even though she may look 14, she’s actually 22 and thus quite legal. Upsetting, I know.
It turns out that the ladies really do prefer a guy with a bigger schlong. A study released in the journal of Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, (yes, PNAS, great football school), said that after showing female subjects pictures of naked dudes of different heights and weights with varying wiener lengths, the ladies found the guys that had bigger dongs more attractive. On average the ladies liked a Johnson to be at least three inches flaccid. This contradicts centuries of lies women have told men that “Size doesn’t matter” and “It’s not the size of the boat it’s the motion of the ocean.” Science calls bullshit!
As we suspected all along, the more cunning gender were just saying that to make tiny dicked boyfriends and husbands feel better. We instinctively know that big dicks are what women want, it just makes sense. Maybe not a John Holmes-style fleshy home pap smear sized dong but certainly an ample amount of man meat. Those ‘grow a bigger dick’ ads all over the Internet aren’t there because they’re not getting clicked on. According to psychiatrists going back to Freud, all men have anxiety that their winkies aren’t long enough. But it’s easy to dismiss fancy pants European shrinks and their dissertations. Less easy to ignore PNAS and their show-ladies-a-bunch-of-dicks-and-see-who-they-drool-over study. If you’re a small man, you just might be fucked. Or, according to PNAS, not.
Lindsay Lohan appeared on the Late Show yesterday for an incredibly awkward interview with David Letterman to promote Scary Movie 5. Letterman skipped over any talk of the movie that couldn’t even manage to coax a single Wayans brother into appearing and jumped immediately into questioning how she is legally still allowed to walk the streets. And while fleeing from the studio after dodging every question with a stock answer she somehow managed to make herself look presentable for once. Appearing less bloated than usual and wearing a smile as wide as her lifeless botoxed face would allow in anticipation of the celebratory post show drug run.
I’m not sure what Nicole Richie does, but since she stopped snorting so much blow with her former ‘school’ friend Paris Hilton, she seems to be much more put together when doing it. I guess you only have so many rails in your life before you realize it’s time to either commit yourself to the drug addicted rich party girl lifestyle filled with a vacuous commitment to club music and Valtrex, or commit yourself to what Nicole Richie does, whatever the fuck that is. But she looked good heading into Kimmel. That’s more than half the battle.
Now that he has so bravely moved on after dumping Emilia Clarke, Seth MacFarlane reportedly had dinner with Charlize Theron in Beverly Hills on Monday night to discuss Seth’s next directing effort, A Million Ways to Die in the West, in which he also stars and she plays the female lead. A source told E! that the two definitely aren’t dating and that “he’s not her type”, which is true, because she’s an Academy Award-winning actress and he was the ninth funniest person at the Donald Trump Roast.
But this is how a guy like Seth works. First, he hosts the Oscars and has someone introduce them, then he casts her in a movie, and eventually she breaks down and says, “Fine, I’ll sleep with you, just stop doing the fucking Stewie voice.”
If there’s two things A-Rod loves, it’s hormone doping and banging celebrity women. A-Rod has nailed an eclectic list of ladies, including Madonna, Kate Hudson, Cameron Diaz, Torrie Wilson, a bunch of Latina dancers and strippers and his wife in there somewhere too. Rumor has it that A-Rod has quite the endless appetite for boning. Impressive for a dude addicted to a drug that makes your jimmies smaller.
According to reports, A-Rod’s latest conquest is a 20-something graduate student in The Dominican Republic. Maybe he’s honoring their win in the WBC or just shaking out his own national roots. Either way, this new girl best pay attention to what has happened to his previous conquests. They all look haggard. I’m going to go ahead and blame birth control for this. While men are built like honeybees to indiscriminately pollenate as many flowers as possible until they fall to the ground and get squished under a shoe, women are designed to blossom post-squirt. To become Kardashian large with child and tell their mate to go fuck a houseplant if he needs some because their store is closed. You block that natural sequence and suddenly A-Rod is ramming his pud into your backstop three times a day, seven days a week, all the however many weeks if not months of your whirlwind romance and you’re suddenly worn weary like the big town prostitute with a small town work ethic. Cameron Diaz used to sparkle before A-Rod. The day they broke up she looked like Ripley climbing into stasis with the ship’s cat at the end of Alien. Beware young Dominican student, the dick of death is upon you.
Here’s Cameron Diaz today, eighteen months after her last A-Rod at-bat, only now recovering her precious bodily fluids.
Outside of having a Crate and Barrel credit card, I can pretty much lay claim to a down the line hetero life. I love big bouncy tits as much as the next guy. Maybe even more if the next guy is Kevin Spacey. But I’ve never understood the merging of boobs and food and sports. I like them all, but I don’t see how combining them makes them better.
The owner of the Bikini Sports Bar and Grill chain just spent seven years trademarking the term ‘breastaurant’. It’s supposed to give him an edge over Hooters and Tilted Kilt and other big boobed waitress sports bar which apparently are the only area of the dining industry that held their own during the recession. But, let’s be honest, the food at all these places sucks. It’s big batch fried frozen wings and things. The tap lines on the beer are traditionally musty. And the TVs and sports bar arrangement is invariably crappy. That’s because like a girl with big tits, these restaurants, err, breastaurants, don’t need to try hard to please you. Busty girls just lay there all smug like they’re Mr. Potter and you’re Jimmy Stewart in desperate need of a bank loan.
Girls with tiny tops are notoriously better in bed. I’d let them operate my sports bar. Or, even better, people who actually like sports and know how to cook a decent hamburger. If I want to pay to see the bigguns, I’ll head to a gentleman’s club like my father and his father before him. And I’ll grab a sandwich along the way.