…and Beyoncé is somewhere pissed that she didn’t think of this maternity strategy first! Us Weekly says Andy Samberg and his wife, Joanna Newsom, secretly had a baby girl and only just announced it. They have been married since 2013 and dated for five years before that, making them a damn unicorn among the typical attention-seeking hos in Hollywood with a case of the wandering peen or wayward puss. They’ve also apparently been public in the past about baby on the brain. Andy told reporters at a Fox All-Star party in 2016, “I love babies. I would love a baby someday.” Only, he forgot to add in “…and I won’t be telling you bunch of narks as to what day that will be!”
I’m sure their PR reps and agents are hitting happy hour extra hard this afternoon. No “Second Trimester Misery!” tabloid covers?! No bidding war for baby photos?! No ten-centimeters dilated pap stroll on your way into Cedars Sinai?! How the hell is a PR flunky supposed to earn some Christmas cash without those commission streams?!
Andy Samberg’s tiny-voiced wife Joanna Newsom is sort of known for having a “fuck it, I wear what I want” attitude when it comes to red carpet clothes. Which is great, because, fuck it – wear what you want. And last night was no exception. Obviously the WTF Award went to Heidi Klum and whatever the hell she was wearing, but Joanna came pretty close.
Joanna’s look is sort of a mix between “accident at the Mattel factory involving a Pink n’ Pretty dining room set” and “fancy new money jellyfish“, and I don’t hate it. She looks like what I imagine Miss Piggy’s powder room looks like; just tons of random fabric and shit covered in gems. Also, if you squint a little, her dress sort of looks like a penis with a wart on the tip. Just me? Okay.
Other than Joanna, not many other famous types brought the messy eleganza. Probably because they knew it was going to be so hot, and they just couldn’t be bothered. That, or they knew no matter how foolish they tried to look, they’d be no match for Alan Cumming and his dress CROCS.
Regardless, here’s a bunch of other dresses from last night. And pants! A bunch of ladies wore pants. I don’t really blame them; it’s a lot easier to run back and forth to the bar during commercials if you don’t have to pull 30 lbs of fabric along with you.
Thanks to the fact that the temperature in L.A. was about as hot as a newly-released fart lingering in the Heat Miser’s chonies, everybody who went to the Emmys yesterday probably made squishy sounds when they walked because of the pools of sweat jelly that formed on their crotch areas. Well, those pools of sweat jelly were definitely washed away by a wave of crotch cream when Adrien Brody sashayed onto the carpet looking like sex double-wrapped in smarmy and dipped in Brut.
Adrien and his signature douche pucker were at the Emmys, because he was nominated for Houdini and also because kissing history-making actresses at award shows is his thing. As I said earlier, Olivia Culpo nearly fainted on the red carpet, and she claims the heat did her in. But I bet she really got the faints when Adrien Brody flipped his glorious mane as he walked on by. Adrian looked like the kind of high-priced gigolo who takes his old lady clients to the opera, fingers them in the box (that line has two meanings) and makes them smell his fingers afterward. Swooooooon.
Here’s a million pictures of some of the dudes (including Damian Lewis, Joe ManJello and David Oyelowo) at the Emmys, but who cares about any of them. The only thing your eyes need is Adrien Brody giving you “stache-free Yanni in a fun house mirror” hotness.
When last year’s award season sweetheart (after the Texas T-Rex, of course) Jared Leto won the Independent Spirit Award for Best Supporting Actor for The Dallas Buyers Club, he spent a million minutes thanking every single person who ever lived from Steve Jobs to Mozart to Kurt Cobain to the billion people on Earth to James Gandolfini’s kids to the makers of vegan butter to the inventor of the zipper to his future ex-wife Lupita Nyong’o, etc.. etc… Bitch wasn’t done. At yesterday’s Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, CA, Jared Leto handed out the award for Best Supporting Actor and before J.K. Simmons’ name slipped out of his delicate lips, he mouth queefed out more people and animals he forgot to thank. And he did it whilewearing a blazer I swear Linda Dano wore on Another World at least once. As your ass can tell from the video from The Hollywood Reporter above, Jared thanked the frog he viciously murdered and Richard Simmons. Take out the frog-killing shit and switch out Poquito Mas for Del Taco and this would pretty much read like my acceptance speech if I won anything.
“That frog that I accidentally squeezed to death in second grade, thank you for teaching me how short life truly can be. Richard Simmons, my flexibility, endurance and uncanny fashion sense. All of my homies at Poquito Mas on Ventura Boulevard. And last but not least my grandmother for beating me senseless with a fly swatter, teaching me that you can’t get away with everything that you think you can. Respect your elders unless you want a can of whoop-ass.”
And a little later on last night, a wet piece of shit fell on Jared Leto’s head and he probably thought Linda Dano threw it at him for wearing her favorite blazer. But nope, it was the frog he murdered shitting on him from heaven for using its tragic death for laughs. This little speech might’ve made you roll your eyes out of their sockets, but I do appreciate him paying homage to the bedazzled dandelion Richard Simmons and NOT THE ONE abuelitas. However, I still can’t believe Jared hasn’t thanked the one person he needs to thank: Rickie Vasquez. Every speech where Jared Leto doesn’t thank Rickie Vasquez is a speech nobody needs to hear.
To see all the winners from yesterday, click here. Below are approximately ten thousand pictures of everyone who was at the Independent Spirit Awards yesterday. You might want to put on some industrial-strength goggles before getting to Oprah’s picture, because her mighty chichis will punch your eyeballs if you don’t protect them.
Why do I get the feeling that 3 seconds after this picture was taken, AMERICAN CITIZEN Reese Witherspoon had her assistant check her dress for grease stains and bedbugs. “This is BEYOND! I told you not to let that hobo-looking hipster touch me! I’m STILL trying to get the stink out of the clothes I wore during the Walk the Line press tour.”
The Hollywood premiere of Inherent Vice was held last night, which explains why Reese Witherspoon is hugging sexy dirtbag Joaquin Phoenix. Not that we really needed a reason – personally, I like to imagine Reese and Joaquin meeting every year around Christmas time to share a hug and a box of warm wine. Anyways, Inherent Vice is set in the 70s, so I guess that’s why Reese rolled up to the red carpet looking like Carol Brady’s gimlet-chugging sister from Manhattan named Prudence (“…but you can call me Pussy“). She also looks like Elle Woods, if Elle Woods went back in time to 1971, married a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon named Kip Skippington, and started breeding exquisite snow-white Persian cats instead of becoming a lawyer. Which is to say, I bet she smells like Revlon Charlie and pillow mints and the front seat of a 1971 Chrysler LeBaron.
Here’s more of Reese Witherspoon serving up Barbie’s mom realness, as well as Joaquin with his sisters Summer and Rain (why those two never got together and made an all-natural feminine wash is beyond me), my personal queen Maya Rudolph, Kimberly Stewart’s baby daddy Benicio del Toro, and Joanna Newsom who looked like she walked into drapery store high on furniture polish and was like “GIVE ME EVERYTHING“:
The Independent Spirit Awards did what the Oscars failed to do: give respect to Matthew McConaughey’s rock hard ass cutlets. At yesterday’s Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, the Texas T-Rex won Best Supporting Actor for popping his bulge in a Speedo and throwing his charbroiled nalgas up in the air in Magic Mike. While accepting his award Matthew, who is still looking a lollipop-headed giraffe, let every actor know that if they want to win an Independent Spirit Award next year, they have to take all them panties off:
“I had to take my pants off to win a trophy, I had to drop trou to win an award. Fuck yeah!”
Sadly, the Independent Spirit Awards didn’t honor the OTHER great performance of the year: Nicole Kidman’s piss hole for letting out a Botox-infused pee stream on Zac Efron’s body in The Paperboy.
The reboot of Jerry Maguire called Silver Linings Playbook pretty much swept that shit last night and picked up a bunch of trophies. Here’s the list of winners:
Best Feature – Silver Linings Playbook
Best First Feature – Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being A Wallflower
Best Supporting Male Performance – The Texas T-Rex, Magic Mike
Best Supporting Female Performance – Helen Hunt, The Sessions
Best International Film – Amour
Best Female Lead Performance – Jennifer Lawrence, Silver Linings Playbook
Best Male Lead Performance – John Hawkes, Battery Dying
Best Screenplay – David O. Russell, Silver Linings Playbook
Best Cinematography – Ben Richardson, Beasts of the Southern Wild
Best Director – David O. Russell, Silver Linings Playbook
Best Documentary – The Invisible War
And here’s a few pictures for you to put your eyes on. In order: Texas T-Rex with Camila Alves, Bradley Cooper (and yes, I stared at his baggy camel toe for at least an hour straight), Bryan Cranston, Laura Dern, Salma Hayek with her billionaire husband, Helen Hunt, Jennifer Lawrence, the new Jodie Foster, Aubrey Plaza, DanRad, new daddy Jeremy Renner (who let everyone know that the musky scent was coming from his crotch), Zoe Saldana, Andy Samberg with Joanna Newsom, the new Annie and Kerry Washington.