Natalie Portman is currently knocked up with her second kid, so I can see why she’d want to show up to the Critics’ Choice Awards last night wearing your auntie’s two best tablecloths as a dress. When you’re shuffling down a red carpet for two, your number one priority is comfort. Your legs are tired, your arms are tired, your stomach looks like the overstuffed backpack of an airplane passenger that refuses to check a bag. Sometimes you just want to wear a cape-thing and call it a night.
Natalie took home the Critics’ Choice Award for Best Actress for her Jackie. I like to think Natalie kept with the throwback theme and her ensemble was an homage to 1960s maternity wear. Based on years of research (Joan and Betty’s pregnancies on Mad Men), I believe if you got knocked up in the 1960s you were legally required to dress like a deflated shower gel pouf.
It wasn’t all floaty-fabric capes. There were also floaty-fabric robes too.
Last night, the Critics’ Choice Awards were held in Santa Monica, CA and while they may appear fancier than, let’s say, The Cable Ace Awards (RIP), they’re still prone to the same crazy shit you’ll get at the MTV Awards. Like award-yanking!
Justin Theroux was nominated for Best Actor in a Drama Series at the Critics’ Choice Awards last night (SPOILER: He lost to Rami Malek) and he brought his wedded piece Jennifer Aniston as his date. You know, I was going to hate on Jennifer Aniston’s peek-a-cooch dress for looking like two dusty retirement home curtains sewn together by an impatient frog with arthritis, but I’m not going to. I mean, it’s obvious that she went through a whole lot to be there.
When Jennifer Aniston first got to the Critics’ Choice Awards, she got out of the car while wearing her original dress and when she took three steps, a pack of asshole wolves (probably die-hard members of Team Jolie who won’t let go) smelled the Baby Alive food that she spilled on herself and they tore her outfit into a million pieces. She had to run her naked ass into the nearest store, which happened to be a David’s Bridal. Aniston quickly bought a factory-defective clearance rack bridesmaid dress and as she made her way back to the Critics’ Choice Awards, that goddamn pack of wolves jumped her again and tore her new dress in two. Aniston ran into a Rite-Aid where she bought a stapler and sloppily stapled her dress back together. She finally made it to the CCAs and yes, she looked like a raggedy mess, but she suffered through an ordeal and made it!
And when Justin presented on stage, someone was blocking Jennifer’s view and she told that trick to move, bitch, get out the way.
You have to keep an eye on your man at all times because you never know when some hussy harlot whore is going to sweep in and snatch him up. Rude ho. Aniston should’ve pulled a Beanie Baby out of her purse and threw it at their head.
And here’s a million more pictures from the CCAs including some of the return of Julian McMahon!
The Critics’ Choice Awards, which is the Mountain Lighting to the Golden Globes’ Mountain Dew, happened last night and Amy Schumer was the Jennifer Lawrence of the show, because she brought the ~quirkiness~ in heavy doses. No, Amy didn’t fall down the stairs or fart in Bryan Cranston’s champagne glass or anything, but she did tell us once again that she’s the fattest fatty fat hog in Hollywood and would hands down win the role of Gilbert Grape’s mom if they did a remake. And she also gave us the mental image of her making out with Lily Tomlin’s clit.
The Critics’ Choice Awards gave Amy the MVP Award (whatever that is), because I guess they wanted to make sure that she showed up, unlike many other tricks (see: Jennifer Lawrence, Leonardo DiCatchAHo, Brie Larson, etc..). Amy also won Best Actress in a Comedy, beating her best friend forever JLaw and national treasure Lily Tomlin. While holding that glass unicorn butt plug trophy, Amy said that Lily Tomlin should’ve won and then she announced that she’d love to tongue fuck Lily’s lily:
Amy saying that she’d munch on Lily Tomlin’s cooch like a never-ending Awesome Blossom didn’t bother me, because who wouldn’t? But Amy skid straight into NOT RIGHT territory when bitch pulled Miss Critics’ Choice Awards to the mic and then shooed her away after finding out that she’s from Florida. Amy joked that Florida should not be a part of this country. It wasn’t not funny. Florida is this country’s leading producer of meth-infused foolery and that makes it the greatest state. It should be the capital of ‘Murica! To hate Florida is to hate fuckery. Amy Schumer can go to Hell (“Um, I’d rather go there than Florida!” – Florida hater Amy Schumer) for that one. And Hell is a place where you don’t have a mouth and you’re stuck in a giant box that’s covered with Lily Tomlin’s vagina.
Because my cable provider is a busted bitch who can’t get their act together and make a channel that airs nothing but Mad Men episodes re-cut to feature Don Draper topless in every scene, I spend a lot of time watching Say Yes to the Dress. I can basically predict the outcome of every dress based on hairstyle and nail choice of the bride. 10lbs of curled polyester hair? That bitch is getting a Pnina. Thick acrylic blow job nail tips? It’s going to have cut-outs around the waist and lace appliqué over the nipples (aka “something simple and elegant“).
Marion Cotillard, on the other hand, is working some dark short nails and slicked back no-fucks-given hair, which means that if she were on Say Yes to the Dress, she’s going to hate every dress that goddess Camille will pull for her before making a joke about wanting something that will look good with with her Converse sneakers. Then her grumpy mother-in-law Janet will shake her head and hiss “Marion, please, you only get one day to look like a princess.” And the fancy Dior dress Marion wore to the Critic’s Choice Awards last night is EXACTLY what she’d end up saying yes to if she was someone on SYTTD; it’s got a bodice she can wear a sports bra with and a skirt full enough that she can sit with her legs open.
Here’s more of Marion Cotillard at the Critic’s Choice Awards last night looking like a chick who is so fucking DONE trying on dresses at Kleinfelds, as well as Reese Witherspoon (who was serving up some last-minute bridesmaid at a David’s Bridal outlet realness), Jessica Chastain doing some kind of weird hair thing I would have thought was so classy when I was 12, and everyone else:
The Hollywood Foreign Press Association outed themselves as fundie Satanists last week after they failed to nominate St. Angie Jolie for Best Director for Unbroken. The critics weren’t about to make that mistake and they gave St. Angie a Best Director nomination today.
The nominations for the Critics’ Choice Awards (aka that awards show on Vh1 that nobody really watches) were announced today and nearly every trick in the Hollywood game was nominated since there’s at least 500 categories. The only major snubs (that I can see) are Steve Carrell not getting nominated for Foxcatcher and Kate Upton’s tits not getting a nomination for Best Distraction In Shit Movie for The Other Woman. Birdman got the most nominations with 13 and The Grand Budapest Hotel got 11 nominations. Unbroken got 4 including Best Picture and Best Director. They also threw Brad Pitt a nomination for Best Actor In An Action Movie for Fury. The executives at Vh1 and every tabloid editor are spending most of their day pouring cornstarch in their chonies, because they keep getting seriously moist while thinking about St. Angie, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston being the same room together.
Jennifer Aniston was nominated for Best Actress for that movie where Rachel Green looks like cold shit and stalks a dead girl’s family. The Critics’ Choice Awards stage is going to be a giant boxing ring and they’ll sit Aniston at one end and Jolie at the other end, and the two will stare at each other as their coaches, Maddox (for St. Angie) and a My Buddy Doll (for Aniston), squirt red wine in their mouths from a straw. Jennifer’s nomination means that we’re one step closer to living in a time when the words “Oscar nominee Jennifer Aniston” becomes a fact.
After the cut are all the nominations. Go ahead and have a deep fried macaroni and cheese bacon sandwich for lunch, because you’ll burn at least 2,000 calories by scrolling down this long ass list.