Prepare For The Internet Meltdown! Benedict Cumberbatch Might Propose To His Girlfriend Sophie Hunter
Ruh roh. I know how this turns out. It will be like Y2K, except for real this time. The internet will explode into a million pieces after the rabid Benedict Cumberbatch fangirls (She-locks? Cumberbutches?) lose their shit and their combined mental powers melt every ethernet cable and wifi signal in the universe. We’re DOOMED! Download all your porns now before it’s too late!
According to The Daily Mail (hold out your hands while I come by with several grains of salt), the UK’s most handsome otter traveled to Edinburgh last week to visit the mother of his girlfriend, Sophie Hunter, which they seem to think means he was asking for permission to marry her. Sophie is apparently super close with her mom, because her parents divorced when she was a child. The Daily Mail says that Benedict and Sophie’s mom also toured the botanical gardens together. Oh, well that settles it! The botanical gardens? He CLEARLY went to Jared!
Part of me thinks the Daily Mail is full of shit, because – duh – it’s the Daily Mail, and 90% of the shit they write sounds like dramatic British fan fic. But I am suspicious of why Eggs Benedict flew all the way to Edinburgh to look at plants with his girlfriend’s mom. I mean, that’s weird, right? If I had a daughter and all of a sudden her boyfriend (who I’m assuming is named either Joe Dirt or Frito) asked me to go to a monster truck rally (I ain’t lookin’ at no fancy-ass plants), I’d be all “This is definitely a date“. Oh shit, is he secret dating his girlfriend’s mom? Speaking of dramatic British fan fic, imagine if Benadryl Coughdrops found himself in the middle of a mother-daughter love triangle?? This is some Jerry Springer shit! All that’s missing is Sophie screaming British expletives while trying to snatch her mom’s wig before Jerry surprises everyone by bringing out Benedict’s secret pengling lover, Swim Swim! Yeah, that’s definitely what’s happening here. You were way off, Daily Mail!
I know what you’re thinking: “Of course she was presented with the wrong award! The only award that should be given to Kim Kardashian is the Drowsiest Performance in an Amateur Porno at the AVN Awards”. And while I totally agree with you (except maybe for the word “amateur”, because we all know Kim is a pro when it comes to taking a dick) sadly that wasn’t the situation last night at the British GQ Awards.
Kanye West’s cheap knock-off My Size Barbie was honored with the title of “W
oman of the Year” at the GQ Men of the Year Awards last night, because I guess if Pimp Mama Kris and Satan back a dump truck full of cash into your driveway, you’ll pretty much give that hooker whatever award she wants. Kim trotted up on stage to collect her award looking like a skanky trick-turning mermaid stripper caught in a tuna net, thanked PMK and Satan and the scientist who invented Botox for making her look as slow as she actually is and the wonderful living breathing photo op that fell out of her rode-hard-put-away-never pussy. But according to The Daily Mail, it wasn’t until she zombie shuffled backstage that she realized she had been given the wrong award. As it turns out, Kim was presented with Pharrell Williams’ award for “Solo Artist of the Year”. Kim probably klued in when she saw the word solo: “This can’t be right – I’m famous for a classic male-on-female, not a solo performance. This must be meant for someone else.”
Which means that at some point last night, there was a very confused Pharrell holding a “Woman of the Year” award and thinking “How many times do I have to tell these people? I’m not Poussey from OINTB!”
And since we already know what Kim wore (trash, she wore trash) here’s everyone else who went to the GQ Men of the Year Awards in London last night, including Benedict Otterface, Cara Delevingne, Daisy Lowe’s tits, Pippa Middleton because WHY?!?, and Jessie J who, like always, was a vision of low-budget escort glamour (yes even more than Kim Kardashian).
QUICK! Gather up all the Cumberbitches, drop them in California and tell them again that the husband in their head has a new piece so they can cry their weight out in Cumberbitch tears and the drought will be over!
During a talk at the Cannes Lions festival in France yesterday, Rebecca Eaton, the executive producer of PBS’ Masterpiece Theater, nonchalantly dropped a bomb that tore apart the hearts of the Cumberbitches. Rebecca casually said that some lucky soul gets to feed wet lettuce to the extraterrestrial amphibian Benifiber Gumballpatch after they mate in a tree. Page Six says that Rebecca then spit out some fighting words when she said that the Cumberbitches need to dry their heartbroken tears and get over it.
That might also explain her other job: helping British hottie Benedict Cumberbatch find a new love interest. She wouldn’t say whom the “Sherlock” actor has met, but she said it’s time for all those “Cumberbitches” — the name used by his huge base of female followers — to move on.
MOVE ON? MOVE ON? How can that cold-hearted she-devil say “move on” like that? That’s like telling Jesus’ disciples to move on and go pet some animals or something after seeing him die on the cross. That’s like telling me to move on after I spent four days crying in bed when I learned that Footballers Wives didn’t get a proper finale.
But I’m sure the Cumberbitches won’t go after Rebecca Eaton. They have more important things to do like search under every rock and in every terrarium at the reptile center for Bendadick’s new piece. Is she full human? Is she full lizard? Or is she half lizard and half alien like Benadryl? I guess we’ll find out when her identity is revealed in the Rebecca Eaton-produced PBS science documentary about the mating rituals of Troigs.
The last time Her Majesty Beyoncé and Jay Z did some impromptu promo work to generate interest in their upcoming “On The Run” tour, they ended up looking as natural and convincing as a Blake Lively boob job. And now, literally three days later, they’re back at it again with a carefully orchestrated stunt meant to convince us to drop $200 to watch the two of them dry hump each other on stage while they lip-synch to ’03 Bonnie & Clyde.
While walking the red carpet at the Met Gala last night, a ring “accidentally” fell off one of Stunt Queen Bey’s fingers. Jay Z saw what happened, counted “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” in his head like Beyoncé instructed him to do in the 20 hours of practice at home, bent down to retrieve it, and on the way up he took her hand and pretended to propose to her with the ring. Stunt Queen Bey then looked around to make sure it was caught on camera before cycling through her rolodex of emotions and pulling out ‘bashful surprise’. And Jay Z did a great job of pretending he wasn’t completely dead inside.
So first we have Stuntyoncé LOL-ing at a basketball game date night, and now they’re pulling cutesy-poo shit like pretend proposals? What’s next on the list for the “Mobil On the Run” spontaneous acts of TRU WUV promo tour? Jay Z laying his coat over a puddle so Bey won’t ruin her shoes? Renewing their vows in a hot air balloon? Undergoing an experimental surgery that turns their faces into Precious Moments figurines? WHAT IS IT??
Here’s more of Stuntyoncé at the Met Gala before and after they awarded themselves a gold medal for their flawless execution of a publicity stunt, including a close-up of Bey’s best lacefront yet (I know, womp womp). Plus, the rest of the messy-looking tricks from they Met Gala (aka the leftovers) like Charlize Theron and a sunset-colored troll, an unreasonably modest RiRi, Kate Upton dressed like Cinco de HELL NO, and Kanye West’s $99/hour rent-a-ho from Lucifer’s Choice Discount Escorts.
Tumblr’s sweetheart and the #1 reason why thousands of Cumberbitches have rug burns on their coochie lips from humping on a stuffed lizard toy is well aware of the whole “Otters Who Look Like Benedict Cumberbatch” meme and he completely embraces his face. During an interview with The Hollywood Reporter for their “In Conversation” series, Bendadick Cumsinbatches was asked about his “timeless” look and he spit this out:
“It’s the blessing of having a weird face — somewhere between an otter and something people find vaguely attractive. Or just an otter, which is vaguely attractive. In all seriousness I’ve grown up with this face and it’s been in the industry for 10 years and now it’s getting on these hottie lists. It just doesn’t make any sense, because I was nowhere near the 1000th hottest face when I started out. So I know a lot of it is projection, which is kind of flattering about the work I suppose. I know I’m not a typical beauty. I’ve got a long neck, a long face — that’s usually period. That’s usually some kind of inbreeding weirdness. So I’ll run with that. I’ll wear some high collars and ride a horse or two.”
Did Benadryl Cucumberpatch just admit that his mom and dad used to call each other brother and sister back in the day and that he’s the inbred product of some Flowers in the Attic-type fuck action? But seriously, my nipples have never gotten hard for Benedict and I’ve been digitally shanked through e-mail by Cumberbitches for saying so. But he is charming and he’s self-aware and I do understand how hos can get the coochie barfs from a dude who looks like a living police sketch of an alien.
With all that being said, I can NOT with Benedict calling otters “vaguely” attractive. That’s like calling Shauna Sand vaguely elegant or like calling Jon Hamm’s Hammaconda vaguely butt hole busting. Or like calling Lindsay Lohan vaguely crackheady. I mean, look at this. This isn’t vaguely attractive. This is all the way adorable:
So fuck you, Benedict! Maybe the Tumblr rumors are true. Maybe Benedict really is an alien from a planet where emotions don’t exist, because how can you call that vaguely attractive? I am not-so-vaguely disgusted!
Um, where do I submit my application/credentials to be the red carpet fluffer at next year’s SAG Awards?
Before a bunch of actors went into the Shrine Auditorium in L.A. to suck each other off while accepting their SAG Award, Bradley Cooper got a little dude-on-dude action on the red carpet. You’re probably looking at that picture and thinking, “John Travolta lost a bunch of chunk and finally got a believable wig!” That picture does look like the Scientology version of taking communion.
At first I thought the dude on his knees was Leonardo DiCatchAHo and B. Coop lured him to his crotch by putting Victoria’s Secret Angel wings on his dick. But E! says that the dude who got a face full of Cooper crotch is Ukrainian prankster Vitalii Sediuk. Vitalii tried to crash Adele’s speech at the Grammy’s last year but JLo’s hungry hungry hippo ass swallowed him up and spit him out in the parking lot. When B. Coop, Mandy Patinkin and Michael Pena realized that Vitalii was turning that red carpet into a glory hole (without the wall), they laughed, they picked him up and the crotch sniffer was escorted off of the carpet. Surprisingly, he didn’t get his ass whooped. So when some Ukrainian prankster puts his face on a dude’s dick area without permission, he’s gently escorted out of the area. But when I do the same thing with a fellow consenting gay at Runyon Canyon Park, I get tased by the police and dragged off to jail. Got it.
Here’s more of B. Coop and the other dudes of the SAG Awards.
Personally, I’m surprised Benedict Cumberbatch has a human mother; I just assumed he was created one day when a cashmere scarf from Harrods wrapped itself around a box turtle with a sharp stick up its ass. But I guess this is why I got turned down for that sex-ed teaching job. C’est la vie.
In an interview with the Daily Mirror (via Jezebel) Eggs Benedict talks about how it’s a real bummer when strangers try to make small talk by saying creepy shit about his famously hot mother, Wanda Ventham:
“I’ve been trapped with men in elevators who say to me, ‘Oh… I really used to like your mum. She’s really hot’”, he told the Daily Mirror. ”I don’t know what to say. If I say, ‘No, she’s not’, that is really insulting to my mother, and if I say she is, it seems very wrong. She is smokin’, I guess.”
Smokin? I guess? Show your mother’s hotness some damn respect, you Smaug-faced fool! Back in the day, homegirl was the axe that chopped the wood and the match that lit the fire:
Sorry Benny, but you need to come to terms with the fact that your mom was a Grade-A, 4-star MILF. Which is crazy, because Benedict is, pardon my french, not stocking shelves in the looks department. Are we sure they’re blood related? I mean, unless she’s hiding a turtle shell under that purple blouse, I have no idea what DNA they share.
I’m sure people aren’t moving in close and damply whispering into Benedict’s ear: “I got my first boner after watching your mother on Doctor Who“ but it still comes across as a bit gross. Here’s why: telling someone you have the hots for their dad/cousin/gam-gam is kind of like saying “Read between the lines, I’ve pictured them naked before”. Which is fine for you, but then that other person starts imagining their dad/cousin/gam-gam naked, which leads to shuddering, drinking, and years of therapy. Do you really want that on your conscience?
(Pic via Wenn)
When I saw this at Jezebel, I figured it was a video of Tumblr’s sweethearts Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hiddleston partaking in a live dance-off against each other in the back alley of a club somewhere and I wondered why the Internet was still standing and didn’t crumble into a million pieces and float away on a sea of panty pudding? But YouTuber and Benedict’s imaginary Lucy Cumberbatch put together clips of Bendydick Cumsinbatches and Tom Hiddleston serving up dorky move after dorky move to that “Sexy and I Know It” song. Just when I was beginning to think that my ears were finally safe from LMFAO, they’re scraping the skin off of my ear tunnels yet again. Anyway…
In one corner, we’ve got Bendydick who dances like an ADD-inflicted velociraptor trying to do an impersonation of a komodo dragon on speed while choking on a piece of raw caveman meat. In the other corner, we’ve got Hiddleston who dances like Cameron Diaz in Charlie’s Angels or like the cool teacher at high school dance circa 1999.
So who won the battle? Neither of them! We’re the true winners here, because we get to nibble on Christmas crunch popcorn while watching the Cumberbitches and the Hiddlestoners scrap over which one of their British sex gods is the best dancer as their ovaries combust.
“I won’t be coming in today, because I prolapsed last night and have to spend my day trying to shove everything back up in there” is the line that thousands of office managers heard on their voicemails this morning from the Cumberbitches who watched their amphibian alien sex god on Jimmy Kimmel Live! last night.
On JKL last night, Benedict Cumberbatch (that’s my favorite thing to order at brunch!) put the cum in Cumberbatch and gave all of his fangirls a Cumberboner when he did a dramatic reading of R. Kelly’s “Genius.” If R. Kelly’s lyrics are blood and Cumberbatch’s voice is a peen, then together they created a rock hard boner that fucked everybody’s ear holes. If you’re not a bareback slut when it comes to ear sex, put a condom over your speakers before pressing play.
And if Bendydick Cumsinbatches is the R. Kelly of fancy British movie actors (“I’d let him cumberpiss on me.” – some sucio Cumberslut), then who is the Lady CaCa of fancy British movie actresses? Let’s just say it’s Helena Bonham Carter, because my ears really need a cover of “Do What U Want” by her and this distinguished lizard martian.
Last night, the premiere of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (a word I’ve been pronouncing as ‘smoog’) was held in Hollywood and it brought out lots of handsome older-types in suits, including the most handsome and suit-y of them all, Benedict Cumberbatch. It couldn’t possibly have gotten any more swoony at The Hobbit premiere after Benedict (they don’t call his eyes ‘The panty droppers‘ for nothing. Yeah, I know, no one calls them that) but then – BAM – James Maslow walked in and done changed the motherfuckin’ game:
TAKE A LAP, CUMBERBATCH. What I’ve gleaned from his IMDB is that he played “James Diamond” (that is THE HOTTEST name in the game) on a Nickelodeon show called Big Time Rush, he used to have serious Justin Bieber hair, aaaaand that’s about it. James Maslow doesn’t play a character in The Hobbit and he didn’t write or sing a song for The Hobbit, so there is literally no reason for him to be at this premiere, but I DO NOT CARE; as long as he brings that Maybe it’s Maybelline face, he can show up at whatever damn premiere he likes. That stunning hair and perfect nose makes him look like a come-to-life Ken doll. Actually, he looks exactly like a doll I named “Brock Lockheart”; he was the ‘special friend’ my Ken doll would bring to dinner at Barbie’s house (and yes, Brock was a model/marine biologist).
Here’s more of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug premiere. I know a handful of big-time nerds and they would be pissed if I didn’t mention everyone’s name (“ALL THE HOBBITS ARE AS IMPORTANT AS FRODO!!” – said as cosplay tights are being pulled up under an Aragorn costume). So here is Benedict Cumberbatch (he voices a dragon named “Smaug”, which sounds like something a stoner came up with), Martin Freeman (Tim from The Office), Orlando Bloom (still hot, would do), Stephen Fry (same), James Maslow, Sean Astin, Manu Bennet (who looks like if John Stamos had a younger half-brother who was really into UFC) Evangeline Lilly (who’s hair has looked better), Peter Jackson, Luke Evans, and Ed Sheeran (Ed looks sleepy because he probably just came from a PJs n’ Popcorn Party at Tay-tay’s house).
(Pics via Splash)