The director of Tracers knows that nobody wants to see Taylor Lautner try to act again (it’s painful for him and it’s painful for us) and what people really want to see is him bent over and peddling that ass on the stroll. Hustle that ass, Taylor. Hustle that ass. I know Taylor’s supposed to look all tough and shit, but that body language says “$20 for a blow, $40 for a lay.”
On the NYC set of Tracers yesterday, Taylor got into some rough trade with two men on top of a car. They choked him and threw him around. If they were all naked, covered with barley oil, had E-meter cans shoved up their b-holes and the Closer Encounters of the Third Kind (L. Ron Hubbard techno remix) was playing in the background, it would look like some kind of Scientology initiation ceremony.
And don’t worry, Armie Hammer, Taylor isn’t married to either of those dudes so they can happily get into all the choke-play they want to.