I just hate reading. I will take an episode of The New Girl over Dostoevsky every time.
I’d meticulously unsubscribed myself from every newspaper, magazine, and e-thing, just so I could give Alec Baldwin‘s Twitter feed my undivided attention, because if I have to read, I’d prefer it in 140-character snippets. But three days ago, Alec Baldwin deactivated his Twitter account. Oh, no! Oh, no! What will I read now?
You might remember that Baldwin was recently booted from an airplane for playing a popular Scrabble knockoff, ‘Words with Friends,’ on his iPhone—I liveblogged the incident—and this singular event has soured him to the entire human experience’s sum total. Did I mention he suspended his Twitter account? Alec! Play more ‘Angry Birds’ and you will love life again! I promise.
The real point is, my favorite Taiwanese news/animation studio has created a video detailing everything I just typed. Hooray! This means less reading for me! And you! Hooray! Hooray!
Er. Well, hmm. I can almost buy that Jennifer Aniston is the sexiest lady of all time. I mean, it’s pretty easy to forget about her turns in Office Space and The Good Girl, never mind ol’ fresh-faced Rachel on “Friends.” Plus, Jen has great hair—maybe the best hair.
And who does Aniston pick as the sexiest woman ever? “It’s a tie between Brigitte Bardot and Gloria Steinem,” she says. “But if I had to choose one, I’d say Gloria because, well, she’s the full package. That’s sexy.” Aw! Jen’s a feminist, too!
Obviously, I think Debbie Harry is the Sexiest Woman of All Time. Or Harriet Tubman. Or Joan of Arc. Or the Virgin Mary. But if I had to choose one, I’d say Debbie.
Who would you have chosen as the hottest lady ever? Meet me in the comments section for a pow-wow.
“[The key to marriage is] lots of great sex, and high heels and lingerie—not me wearing it! Not on me!” He clarifies: “That’s just how you gotta make up. ‘Cause, you know, everyone is going to fight and argue and break TVs and dishes and stuff. But somebody’s got to put on some lingerie once in a while.”
—Robin Thicke gives one of a bevy of great soundbytes in this awesome radio interview. Thicke is out doing promotional rounds for his fifth album, Love After War.
Anytime I am feeling down, I watch my favorite Robin Thicke video from 2002. It’s so audacious. That hair!
I have titled my post “Today’s Courtney Stodden” because every night she goes to bed in stilettos and bunny ears and somehow wakes up a new woman. Today’s Courtney Stodden is nothing like Yesterday’s Courtney Stodden.
What I am saying is, Today’s Courtney is wearing a leopard-print synthetic-fur coat and not much else. Do you know what is in a synthetic-fur coat? Acrylic. Coal. Petroleum. Limestone. It’s true. Look it up.
Wait, what?
I don’t know. I’m sorry. I always want to be insightful when I blog, but try as I might, it is very nearly impossible to preface these photos of Courtney Stodden in a red bikini, just hoochying it up on some random sidewalk. (To be fair, the teen was taping a thingie for Funny or Die, but at this point I’m like “Courtney Stodden wore a bikini out in broad daylight? And in public? And in a residential neighborhood? And she stole my ex-boyfriend’s mom’s faux-fur coat? Zzz.”)
While all of you crazy bastards are getting ready to gear up and hit up the town tonight, I want you to play through this song, on loop, at least sixteen times. Then I want you to slap yourself in the face for subjecting yourself to such atrocity, and then send me a virtual slap for putting a damper on your Friday night like this. I don’t mean to be such a bitch, but I just had to make sure that others were sharing in my prime time misery tonight.
This, following the Lindsay Lohan post, is just about all I can take in crazy grossness tonight. It’s the limit. As you can see from the video above, our girl Ke$ha started a website called, appropriately, Put Your Beard in My Mouth. And it’s strange. And gross. Because most men’s beards are like pubes. And does Ke$ha like pubes between her teeth? Well, probably. This is a girl who has a gold tooth, a girl who probably smells like a dried puddle of Mountain Dew, a girl who, though undeniably kind of cute in a I-repulse-myself kind of way, speaks flippantly about glitter in the delicate folds of intimate orifices.
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