Here’s Michael Assbender acting all coy with a blond chick after leaving Groucho Club in London last night. They’re doing that flirty dance a lot of drunken hos do right before they’re about to have 3-second sex in the stairwell of one of their apartment buildings. If you see homegirl squat walking out of his building and you see him covered in orange paint, you know they both got some.
I know I should be squinting my eyes to see if I can make out a peen print on Assbender’s crotch, but I’m too busy wondering why he went to the club dressed like he’s just going to the corner store to pick up some cigs. This reminds me of the time I showed up to some internet date’s apartment and he told me he would have to cancel the restaurant reservations he made, because I wasn’t dressed right. Stupid bitch. It’s not like we were going to some fancy place like Outback, we were just going to some taco place. Some picky queens just don’t appreciate a Hypercolor t-shirt and B.U.M. Equipment sweats. Besides, who dresses up for an internet date? You’re just there to eat a quick appetizer and get it on real fast so you can be home in time to watch a re-run of The Nanny on Nick at Nite.