Christina Hendrix showed up to the 5th Annual Veuve Clicquot Polo Classic in Pacific Palisades, CA yesterday, and for some ungodly reason she chose the Napoleon Dynamite reject outfit above to wear to the event. NO. Awkward Family Photo 70s tux/doily combo Christina…really?? I can’t.
I know that the whole world yells at her to put her ridiculous pillowlicious chi chis away once in awhile but this is taking it way too far. That “ensemble” is tata jail. Illegal. FREE THE TATAS!!! And not only is it tata jail, it’s face/hair/shoes/body/all of it jail that sucks the life from everything else in a 5 mile radius into a vortex of fuckugly. We’re so sorry Christina!!! Please please PLEASE bring back the tatas. We’ll even seat them in the front row so they feel special.
Did Christina plan this outfit, or was she attacked by my Grandma’s window sheers and ridiculously long dresser runner before falling into a “vintage nobody wants” Goodwill box on her way to the red carpet? I don’t know. All I know is that the next time someone shades her for always having Tha Girls on display, she should show them this picture and they will immediately retract their statement and fluff her boobs for her. Everybody wins.
Now, this is how you serve up a gag-worthy crystal platter full of charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent in just a few seconds.
Las Vegas is already the epicenter of glitter and glamour (and I knew that ever since I watched a drunk chick in a short sequined tank dress barf into her hand a little while trying to put on baby pink lipstick in a mirrored column in the Harrah’s lobby at 10 in the morning), but its glamour levels reached new heights on Thursday night when a kid delivered a pose show for the gods on the local news. This diva jr. gave face face face he gave face beauty face!
Gawker says that during a live broadcast from Downtown Summerlin, a boy posed, Vogue’d and did the Bundy Bounce like everyone was watching. Everyone was watching except for those little girls who needed to exit stage left and let a true star werk! That kid’s “ewwww, don’t you know I’m the Beyonce” side-eye stank face says it all. Scat, girls, scat! Can’t you see glamour is in motion?
If I was in a Barbizon class with that kid and he got up in front of everyone and did that, I’d either immediately sign up for his master class since he is the Maria Callas of posing or I’d drop out on the spot and tell my mom that I was retiring from modeling. Because who can compete with a pose machine of fabulousness like this?
(Thanks to everybody who sent this in)
I can tolerate Sarah Silverman and Chelsea Handler, and actually would love to party with them and live to tell. They both seem like that crazy fun bitch that will show you the best time of your life and bail right before you wake up in jail in a pile of someone else’s barf on the drunk tank floor. People has a video of them as Thelma and Louise and their tribute is cute and all, but.
BITCHES CAN WE TALK. You don’t touch Thelma & Louise unless you can bring it better and since there is no better, just don’t go there. Ever. Actually I think that’s the 28th amendment to the Constitution: Leave Thelma & Louise ALOOOOOOONE.
Gena Davis and Susan Sarandon, the original and only T&L, had this reaction when they saw the video:
So basically Sara And Chelsea can choose from “WHAT NOW BITCHES” and “NO”. But thanks for playing! And call me but first, call a bail bondsman.
If you woke up feeling broke, bitter and hungover like me, the Carter-Knowles are here to rub salt in your wound and point out that you are an imperfect poor ass who could never shut the Louvre down for a day so that you could ask the Venus De Milo to hold your purse and snap a few phone pics of you and your lovely family and then laugh because it’s funny because she has no arms. If you woke up feeling Awesome McWinnerson on top of the world, the Carter-Knowles are here to knock your ass off that high horse and point out that you’re an imperfect broke ass fighting the Louvre crowd basic bitch. At least they don’t play favorites, right?
So here are pictures that Beyonce posted of her perfect family day on Wednesday with Jay Z and Blue Ivy. You may want to put on your RayBans and some SPF 500 before you click, lest you get third degree burns on your eyeballs and everywhere else from gazing upon the white hot perfection of Illuminati Delacroix, Mona Lisa likes to take two fingers, Watch And Learn Psyche and Amore, and Marilyn Monblue Ivy. It’s like staring directly at the sun or masturbating: too much and you’ll go blind (GOOD – you). You can browse the gallery below or you can go to beyonce.com to see MY LIFE flashing over all the photos. YES WE KNOW, and thanks alot for ruining my monitor when I wrote FUCK over the MY LIFE with a Sharpie.
You know the real reason they shut down the Louvre is so the plebes wouldn’t see the Night At The Museum scene when all the paintings and statues came to life to fantard all over and photobomb the Bay-Jays. You might think that the Carters were taking pictures of themselves with the world famous artwork, but it was actually the other way around. And now you know why the Mona Lisa’s tits are autographed…it’s not graffiti, Mona begged them to do it and now refuses to ever bathe again.
The glamorous and demure Aerobicise swans who scooted sweaty, warm gracefulness all over Showtime and MTV in the 80s!
At my house, we didn’t get cable until the early 90s and we only got it because a guy at my mom’s work sold her a descrambler box on the cheap. (What is the statue of limitations for descrambler boxes?) So I never knew that while I was watching boring, basic antenna TV, HIGH ART was being broadcast on MTV and Showtime.
Dlisted reader Elaina, who sent this in, said that this “Jane Fonda’s answer to soft-core Skinemax porn” shit first aired late at night on Showtime and then on MTV (back when MTV showed QUALITY television). The Aerobicise swans breakout moment came in 1984 when Axl watched them in Friday the 13th Part 4.
The Aerobicise segments were simple yet highly, highly artistic. A group of graceful swans, who were done up like they just sashayed out of a Glamour Shots studio, stood in a circle on a Lazy Susan of perfection and busted out some stunning moves that made them look like they were doing an ancient tribal dance to make Gerard Butler appear. Long before Miley Cyrus smeared salmonella all over Robin Thicke’s crotch by rubbing her undercooked chicken paillard ass on it, MTV filled the eyes of viewers with twerking glamour like this:
I don’t know whether to say they look like they’re working the invisible rubber off of an invisible three-way dildo or if they look like they’re demonstrating a Duggar birthing circle.
Those moves that look like something out of a doody bubble ballet… That crimped hair… That delicately applied Wet ‘N Wild liquid eyeliner… That porn music…. Add this clip to the overstuffed-as-hell filed labeled “This Is Why The 80s The Absolute Best.“
Hugh Jackman (46)
Jessica “Chubs” Shannon from Here Comes Honey Boo Boo (18)
Josh Hutcherson (22)
Tyler Blackburn (28)
Katie Piper (31)
Marko Jaric (36)
Bode Miller (37)
Marion Jones (39)
Kirk Cameron (44)
Martie Maguire (45)
Chris Botti (52)
Deborah Foreman (52)
Susan Anton (64)
Chris Wallace (67)
Aurore Clement (69)
Dick Gregory (82)
Sometimes I see Dlisted as a kind of Preserve.us, but instead of curating $50 teaspoons that are exact replicas of the teaspoon Laura Ingalls Wilder used to stir her dandelion tea with while writing Little House on the Prairie on the same kind of paper that Blake SoNoLively wrote her editor’s letter on, I curate the finest in cunture fashions.
Lily Allen took a fashion tip from fellow British jewel, RiRi’s Wednesday matinee understudy Rita Whora, last night at the after-party for her show in Hollywood by wearing an exquisitely made knitted head condom with a one word poem on it. If you put your ear up to that picture, you can practically hear bitches on the street screaming, “We know, Lily! We know! You don’t have to broadcast it on your hat!”
Lily’s beanie (which the government should forcibly sew onto the heads of Chris Brown and Justin Bieber so everyone knows what they’re getting) is so simple, so classic, so understated and so refined. I’m sure Duchess Kate will replace her tiara with it. It’s that timeless.
In news that will make you rethink your every-decision-you’ve-made-since-fucking-junior-high-school, the Daily Mail says there’s an now ex teacher’s assistant in Florida who is single handedly turning around her state’s reputation for bad decision making by dropping her boring TA job to drop her booty in a much more lucrative T&A career full time. Twenty two year old Jessica “Two First Names” Vanessa turned her sensible suits in for satin booty shorts and now bitch is getting PAID to twerk it (That’s why it’s called tWORKING bitches – Jessica). In related news, why the fuck did I take the colleges? I want a refund.
If you thought that Miley Cyrus killed twerking by humiliating it before setting fire to it and spinning out on its face with a camouflage paint jobbed 4-wheeler, watch the video and let Jessica’s mesmerizing ass moves restore your faith and take you up and away from that sadness. Her ass is like the Mozart of Twerk. It undulates, it goes back and forth, it goes up and down, side to side, and in and out. It’s the Hokey Pokey of ass. It’s part waterbed and part clacker and completely awesome.
Some people have tried slut shaming Jessica and girl, forget those jealous bitches. They’re just mad that they didn’t pick shaking it over Excel spreadsheets. Jessica says that she didn’t have to be an ex math teacher’s assistant to understand that 6 seconds of work > 4 months for the same pay. Thank you for making us all re-evaluate our careers and teaching us to understand that maximizing on our unique as(s)ets is the way to go.
Amanda Bynes got checked into a mental health facility right after she tweeted luuuuuv to Sam Lutfi, and those two events are related. Yeah, duh, but it gets even worse than alarmingly bad character judgement. Everyone whose eyebrows immediately retreated into their hairlines and saw dancing pink wigs at the mention of his name gets a cookie (you’ll have to yell at your SO/kid/mom to get one of yours if you have some…sorry, I’m broke), because Sam was supposedly the one who tricked her into coming to LA to be guest of honor at a 5150 surprise party.
You may remember Sam from Britney Spears‘ 2008 breakdown, the one her parents accused him of bringing on by slipping Brit nefarious drug cocktails. No, I’m sure that he is a misunderstood hero that just has happens to have an odd penchant for being closely involved with fragile women when they are teetering on the edge and only has their best interests at heart. Sam is the one who supposedly tricked Amanda into going to LA, per TMZ:
Sam Lutfi…contacted Amanda Thursday and convinced her to sue her parents. He got her to fly to L.A. so he could hook her up with a lawyer. …[Then] the driver went to a Pasadena hospital which looked like an office building. Amanda thought she was going to see the lawyer but when she walked inside she was surrounded by hospital staff.
Amanda got checked into a psych ward for a few days and her parents reportedly view Sam as a saviour and are going to publicly thank him, right after they transfer money to a Nigerian prince who will then dump millions of dollars into their bank account.
Girl needs a hug and unfortunately for her she turned to Sam, who had his arms wide open while his heart tearfully put the lotion on its skin in the corner. How is it that all roads to Not Okay, CA make a stop at Sam Station? How does he get in with these women? Amanda and all famous and semi-famous ladies, listen. When you see someone listed as “5150callme” and his profile pic features a photobomb of side eye-ing sharks nervously holding up a <–PREDATOR sign, resist the urge to click. You don’t want to know that guy.
It’s a sad day in Pinche Putadom. Everyone is poised to pour one out for the loss of their leader, notorious jet-hopping-for-dick forever single serial ho Cameron Diaz at the news that she may be engaged (!!!) to her boyfriend,
Anemic Sunday Comics Pillsbury Doughboy Benji Madden. Of course, liquor is precious and delicious and they’re not stupid so they’ve pressed pause on the pour until they actually see her ass sporting a veil on the cover of People.
Cameron took a day off from preaching pussy gospel (bush is beautiful!! Can I get an amen! No?) to attend the Academy’s Hollywood Costume luncheon in LA on Wednesday, and hos at E! noticed that she had a little sumpin-sumpin shiny on THAT finger, sparking rumors that she was ready to trade her sucia card in for a life of domestic bliss. I’m no expert, but to me that sounds a lot like trading your Miata convertible in on a minivan so I’m not going to ask Cameron to be my financial advisor anytime soon.
It’s hard to believe that Cammy would go from hitting and quitting Justin Timberlake and Alex Rodriguez to settling down with a guy like Benji. I mean, look at him. Dude has to be seriously packing, or maybe he just seems that way to her after humping on Alex’s little roid rod for so long. Or maybe it was the unique ring, which looks suspiciously like a sparkling peen on the verge of plunging into an extra large vagina. Yeah that’s got to be it. That would totally win me over.