By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 2:20 PM
Every year Time Magazine picks the President or the Pope or some other big political or religious leader to be the Time Person of the Year. It’s appallingly uninteresting but at least it’s hard to argue. Every few years the gangster editorial staff get a bug up their ass about being creative and pick something trending on Google for the year. In the past they’ve gone thematic and picked The World Donors, like Bill Gates and Bono, or The Protestors, like the Occupy unemployed journalism majors who camped out in front of their offices for months until they got freelance assignments at $50 a pop to pay off their $50,000 student loans. For 2014, Time selected Ebola Workers. Not just the doctors and nurses nobody knows about, but also the ambulance drivers, bed pan cleaners, and the people who handle the Ebola touchy feely burials in West Africa.
I could go to Time.com and comment bitch about how Ebola kills but a teensy tiny fraction of other bugs such as The AIDS, Malaria, Tuberculosis, or having unprotected sex with a Kardashian, all of which kill in the millions annually while but a few thousand people have perished from the much ballyhooed new kid on the African shit block, Ebola. And I did. But it felt empty. I didn’t even bother to go back and bitch about how all the Ebola workers who return to the U.S. seem to have a giant virus stick up their ass about refusing to be quarantined and their humanitarian right to lick every single bowling ball at their local AMF lanes. But I’d rather focus on how much better the world is becoming since we stopped giving a shit what a couple or three printed magazines had to declare about our world and started finding our own sources of news and opinion. By that I mean mostly porn and sports, naturally.
Photo credit: Time.com
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 1:27 PM
I’ll say this for these amazingly creepy and insidious bastards from this water company that hasn’t paid me or anybody I know a god damn cent, they are getting progressively better at their photo shoots. It could be because what began as gigs for semi-employed models has turned into placing sacks over girls heads in the Victoria’s Secret dressing rooms, driving them in circular routes around Los Angeles to disorient, then hauling them out to the beach and promising to return them to their families if they get their tits wet for an hour on camera. It’s not completely unlike the American Apparel hiring process.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 1:06 PM
Until such time as the scepter is handed over, all future monarchs of England are expected to work at typical jobs their wet nurses read to them about in bedtime books about the normals. Prince William landed a gig with an air ambulance service in England. William will toil for up to seventeen hours a year, sixteen of which will be captured on film by royal biographers, leaving an hour unfettered for homosexual and or incestuous escapades at eight hundred feet. The charity William will fly for needs a few extra bucks so local women who shouldn’t be naked got naked for a fundraising calendar. It’s the new meme in England for chunky gals from the local supermarket checkout counters to put together a photo calendar that not a single person could possibly be buying for any reason other than charity. Still, like Prince William coming to the rescue in his helo every fifth Sunday afternoon between 2pm and 4pm, you have to give the lasses credit for being plucky.
Photo Credit: Geoff Robinson Photography
By Jack December 10, 2014 @ 12:00 PM
One of the things revealed in the big Sony email hack was veteran producer Scott Rudin calling Angelina Jolie “a minimally talented, spoiled brat.” as he bitched about her plans to star in a $180 million Cleopatra film certain to be a miserable fail. She is a pretty shitty actress. I mean, when you can’t pull off Laura Croft you’ve got problems.
Read all about Scott’s distaste for Angie. (TMZ)
Dioni Tabbers has some big old titties, for real. (Drunken Stepfather)
This is Trew Mullen and this is her sexy bikini body. (Hollywood Tuna)
Meanwhile, Daisy Lowe shows off some amazing cleavage at the GQ Christmas lunch. (Popoholic)
Jennifer Lopez is dressed like a space roman but she’s still kinda hot. (Huffington Post)
The new Mad Max trailer looks fucking weird. (The Superficial)
Tricia Helfer and Katee Sackhoff in a sexy calendar gives me a nergasm. (COED)
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 10:16 AM
As far as beards go, you could do worse than picking a pubescent looking chick with a childish stage name. Outside of asking for money to go to the mall, she’s mostly going to leave you alone to work on your acoustic guitar riffs and snapchats with Hugh Jackman about the craft. At some point one of her little friends is going to whisper in her ear about how awesome sex is and she’s going to start looking at you funny with tears in her eyes, that’ll be the time to ask for your favorite flannel shirt back and click her an Uber.
Photo Credit: INF
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 9:42 AM
Media outlets were spewing this morning how Toni Garnn got her payback on Leonardo DiCaprio by posing for these hot photos in GQ Magazine. I’m not sure people understand how revenge works. The appropriate response to your recent boyfriend banging twenty South Beach models with the help of amphetamines and divine will is to either bang twenty dudes yourself, wish The AIDS upon him, or take all his shit and stress eat ice cream straight from the container. Showing him and the rest of the world your titties isn’t exactly a Sicilian style vendetta. You’ve lost this round, but the war isn’t over yet. Think German fetish magazines.
Photo Credit: GQ
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 9:24 AM
Girl power and BFFs and Throwback Thursday shits and giggles over how you both had crappy hair cuts in high school aside, women really instinctively hate other women named Olivia Munn. I’ve never noticed a stronger catty reaction to any woman in Hollywood than that to Olivia Munn. Chicks snarl when they speak of of her like she just stole their boyfriend with her nonpareil vagina that shuffles poker hands during refractory breaks. Women instinctively sense the nest is in danger when a hot chick who knows the difference between an illegal motion and an illegal procedure penalty in football is within pheromone distance. Sounds the claxons and unleash the fury of Athena. Somebody’s coming to in a bathroom stall at Curves with their labia Crazy Glued together.
Photo Credit: INF/FameFlynet
By Lex December 10, 2014 @ 8:30 AM
Reading about radical Muslims hellbent on killing Americans being savagely beaten, mind-fucked, and having raisin hummus fired up their anuses all I could think about was, who the fuck cares? These are barbaric dudes meeting a barbarian’s fate. As a nation, we probably shouldn’t have secret backrooms in pierogi shops in Poland where we fire chickpeas up hairy dudes asses until they say uncle, but everybody has their vices. Torturing serial killers isn’t really all that bad on the grand master list of shitty things you can do in life. It’s not even close to threatening to move your NFL franchise unless you get a taxpayer funded stadium or wearing a ponytail as a guy.
All of the weird overly made-up walking corpses we call Congresspeople waving around this CIA torture report have themselves authorized warfare and bombings and destruction to countless number of collaterally innocent people. Far more in number than the hundred high value Al Qaeda targets the CIA made listen to Blues Traveler on shuffle repeat until they snapped. It’s quite likely the intel gleaned from coercion wasn’t all that reliable. But that’s not fully what this was about. War is an ugly business. You don’t like the ugly, get out of the business. You start parsing what is more or less moral in a brutal endeavor and you will only end up looking like Diane Feinstein. You do not want that. Choose the hummus enema if given the option.
Photo credit: Getty Images