Archive for We’ll be the judge of that
Holy…. If we had a heart, it would have stopped beating after looking at these pics of Vadge throwing shade at Jessica Biel‘s homage to Miss Havisham on the Golden Globes red carpet last night – by stepping on that mess of material which belongs on a corpse bride.
Not content with burning the petals of every hydrangea in the land with her stare, or sharpening her claws on the bones of third world orphans; Vadge will have used her best manufactured British accent to apologise to Jessica, laced with shit balls of “take one look at this broad honey – and thank god for the priceless gift that is ME“.
But everyone knows the apology should’ve come from her publicist Liz Rosenberg instead. Those peons around Vadge should be on the damn ground!!, making themselves a human carpet, so that her exquisite old lady heels don’t have to touch the floor at all. FIRE THAT LAZY BEETCH MADGE!!
Brad Pitt circa 1996 channelling Fabio’s first baby hairs on the cover of W magazine February 2012. Yes, we still would. But only if he spoke to us with an Italian accent, and brought his pimp Daddy cane lubed up to poke us with. And talking of hot Papa Pitt’s cane, we’re surprised Ange’s forehead vein still hasn’t leapt to the rescue to support him as he hobbles along on a fucked-up knee.
You just know that Jodie Foshhhhhhter is also ruhuuuuuully jealous of Brad’s hair right now too.
Proving she’s no longer breathing in the lonely dust that Olivier Martinez humps out of Halle Berry a few countries away from her (because she’s shagging another hot man piece who speaks funny now) – Kylie Minogue twatted this little message to her ex at the news he’s officially going to marry the crazy out of Halle whose been hitched #3times and her first divorce from David Justice left her so sad (aka, fucked-up), that she almost gassed herself and her dog to death in a garage. Poor dog.
We all wish our exes would take the next GET THE FUCK OUT OF TOWN fast train, because you can’t walk down the damn street without bumping into a penis you used to ride on during happier times. So clap clap to Kylie for showing she can move on from the days where she and Olivier would just spend all afternoon sucking the escargot chunks out of each other’s mouth.
Some American bint called Cynthia McFadden *blank face* whose fringe keeps trying to upstage her forehead, is trying to tease us with an interview in which she discusses the question “that almost blew up the internet”, with Vadge.
Basically, the thing about Lady Blah Blah copying and pasting her face onto everything roidymawmaw has ever done before (aka #expressyourselflite).
Watch the trailer below, which is as mangled up as a boy toy’s nutsack when Vadge’s snatch serpent bites at it, while a Eurotrash crotch thrusting soundtrack pumps away in the background.
It’s almost as exciting as watching the old lady at the bus-stop who slightly shakes and takes 45-minutes to unwrap a Quality Street from her pocket, and always wants to talk about Nanette Newman.
Something tells us this pic of the Canadian Jesus (aka Justin Bieber) romancing us with his eyes, will be slobbered on more than Hugh Hefner‘s latest PlayHo. Although you might not have recognised him at first without his booster seat and Selena Gomez doing her usual pedo-pose-of-shame next to him.
Shawty brought it for photographers Inez Van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin in the new issue of V magazine, and also let sparkly gaylet Nicola Formichetti dress him in one of Bucks Fizz‘s old tour costumes.
Our nipples haven’t blinked this much since we watched Aqua‘s Barbie Girl video for the first time.
Usher, just come and get your daughter!
Bless. Look at Ollie Murs doing an impression of Kate Winslet in Titanic, after Kate filled her mouth hole with everything and anything she could find in the ship’s galley.
Maybe if he dropped the chunk through that thing known as ‘diet’ and ‘exercise’, he wouldn’t have to get his stomach Spanxed before every Xtra Factor show (and frankly there’s enough spanxing and strapping down Caroline Flack and her cow-size tits thank you very much). Presenters who don’t require spanxing for 2012, please apply to ITV2.
Aww, but look how Ollie and his BF (who looks like Shane Lynch from Boyzone, but with a quiff) are holding hands in the sea together. They must be serious about keeping their moobs lush and luscious.
Yes, we’d still hit it (Ollie, not his BF), while screaming out the lyrics to Dance With Me Tonight. Truthfully, we prefer Ollie like this. Nobody wants to get it on with a guy who has a body like an action-man figure. It just makes you want to put down your custard-filled danish pastry, and put on that ‘Keep fit for lazy schmucks’ DVD instead.
The man who brushes off the ricocheted air kisses he blows at his own reflection in the mirror – James Franco (aka pretentious hot man piece) – has written another book, this time about being an actor. Chapters shall probably include, “How to bomb at the Oscars harder than Jessica Simpson’s arse after an all-you-can-eat buffet“, “How to pose like a male hustler in the back pages of Boyz magazine“, and “How to fap constantly for 127 hours“.
The New York Observer reports:
James Franco is publishing a novel! And not only that, he has abandoned traditional publishing houses to publish with Amazon. The book is called Actors Anonymous and was acquired by Amazon’s fiction editor Ed Park from Mr. Franco’s agent, Richard Abate. The novel is said to be a fictionalised version of Mr. Franco’s experiences as an actor (and grad student?). Mr. Franco’s first book, a collection of short stories called Palo Alto, was published by Scribner.
If James really wants to make the publishing world scream, he should release a touch-and-feel photo book called, “Our Cheeks On Franco’s Tongue.” And by ”publishing world,” we mean, our genitals.
You know we like to make yo dreemz come tru! (and you can trust us, because we always lift our hands all grand-like when we say it).
So here’s yours and our future husband Enrique-que holidaying in St.Barts looking like the kind of guy that probably works in the aftershave gas chamber known as A&F, the store where everyone wears ‘LaDouche’ for manwhores.
He may need to save his singing for the devil, but when he caresses our ears with the lyrics, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude, but tonight I’m fuckin’ you” – we’re swooning until our body moles practically slide off.