Skin cancer first started fucking with Hugh JackMeOff last November when his loyal beard wife Deborra-Lee Furness told him that he needed to get a mark on his nose checked out by a doctor. That mark turned out to be basal cell carcinoma. Doctors cut it out of his nose and that was that. But six months later in May, that bitch ass cancer showed up on Hugh’s nose again. Once again, doctors removed it. Well, cancer is a stubborn piece of shit that can never take a hint, so it showed up on Hugh’s nose for a third time.
Hugh’s rep tells People that he’s doing okay after getting cancer scooped out of his nose for a third time. The rep said that basal cell carcinoma is really treatable if you catch it early. Ever since cancer made an appearance on Hugh’s nose, he’s been sunscreen’s #1 peddler and tells everyone to bathe in the stuff every day. Today, Hugh threw this up on Instagram:
I get that Hugh is telling everybody to protect themselves from that asshole cancer by wrapping their bodies in an SPF condom, but did he really need to bring that song into it? That song played at every single graduation in 1998 and I almost forgot about it. When the clock hit midnight on January 1, 1999, we all breathed out a hot sigh of relief, because we were hoping the year would be free of that goddamn sunscreen song. And Hugh just had to bring it back.
Since Hugh has made it one of his missions in life to get everyone lubed up with SPF, he should set up sunscreen booths all over the place and personally apply the stuff on our bodies with his hands. We’d all wear sunscreen all the time if he did that. But he better rub some low SPF between the cracks, because when I make the birds cry in pain by sunbathing naked, I like to get some sun in that no-no area. (Yes, I’m the gay Shailene Woodley.) It too needs some Vitamin D. Well, it needs two kinds of Vitamin D if I ain’t being too subtle.
During an interview with Australian Women’s Weekly (via Daily Mail), Hugh Jackman’s exquisite tree-ripened pawpaw of a wife Deborra-Lee Furness admitted that after almost two decades of people coming up to her and telling her she’s so lucky to be married to the current Vice President of the International DILF Society (the President is Paul Rudd), she’d like everyone to cut the bullshit and stop saying she’s lucky. Deborra-Lee isn’t lucky! There’s only one lucky, and she cry-cry-cries in her lonely heart. But for real, Hugh Jackman’s normal-looking wife wants you to stop acting like she won the damn lottery:
“That to me is a putdown. (It is) like you suggesting I won the chook raffle. I think we create our own destiny.”
I had no idea what the hell a chook raffle was (I figured it had something to do with drawing for a wallaby) but as it turns out, it’s where people raffle off chicken meat in a pub. WHAT EVEN??? Beer and the chance to win a bunch of chicken meat? Australia truly is a magical place.
But back to Deborra-Lee. I know she thinks people are saying “You are lucky”, but I think what they really mean is “You are lucky.” As in, we’re all insanely jealous that Deborra-Lee Furness gets to wake up every morning spooning one of Wolverine’s biceps and fall asleep every night staring deep into his beautiful Bloomin’ Onion eyes as he sings her a medley of Broadway show tunes. People aren’t saying she’s lucky in a Michael Bluth “Her?” way. They’re saying in the most literal sense of the word; as in, if a proctologist took a look up Deborra-Lee Furness’ ass, he’d find a horse shoe, a rabbit’s foot, several four-leaf clovers, and a goddamn leprechaun.
Tonight is the gay World Series (the title of gay Super Bowl belongs to the Oscars) known as the Tonys and if you really want to end up needing a liver transplant in a bad way, then watch the Tonys and take a shot every time someone makes an Adele Dazeem joke. Your liver will melt, liquefy and dribble out of your piss slit before the second hour is over. Hugh JackMeOff is hosting the Tonys tonight and he sashayed onto the red carpet with his stunning beard. The beard on his face looked okay too (You can GONG me for that one, I deserve it).
Hugh Jackman obviously spent some time getting his eyes Wet ‘N Wild beautiful for the Tonys, but he should’ve stepped away from the mascara and eyeliner for a second to help out his wife Deborra-Lee Furness, because she looks like Magnolia Crawford did her makeup. She looks like the wax figure of a drag queen Kate Gosselin and that is not a good thing. Maybe it’s her way of paying homage to Kinky Boots and the Lion King?
But whatever, I guess no matter how Deborra-Lee did her makeup, she still wouldn’t be able to compete with Hugh Jackman’s gorgeous bunny eyes.
Pics: Wenn.com, Getty
After falling on the stairs at the 2013 Academy Awards and bailing on the red carpet at the 2014 Academy Awards, I just assumed Jennifer Lawrence was planning on saving her next “Whoopsies, how endearing of me!” choreographed stunt fall for the 2015 Academy Awards. Instead, The Daily Mail says she fast-tracked things a bit by tripping up the stairs at the New York premiere of X-Men: Days of Future Past on Sunday night. Although, this one might not technically count, because they say it wasn’t a full-on shit-eating fall; it was more like a fall that never materialized because too many people threw out their arms to prevent America’s Sexiest Keeper of the Real from taking a tumble. It was the pre-cum of falling, really.
I know I throw a lot of shade at Jennifer Lawrence for being one of the hardest working tricks in the try-hard game, but I honestly believe this stumble up the stairs wasn’t planned. That velveteen dress she’s wearing is giving me serious flashbacks to the year 2000, and in case you forgot about the year everyone was stuffing themselves into cheap velveteen, that shit wasn’t a very forgiving fabric. It stretched when it wanted to and if your skirt/dress was long enough, it always found a way to wrap itself around the heel of your platform Mary Janes and throw your ass at the worst of times. It’s not JLaw’s fault she almost fell again; it was that vengeful bitch velveteen’s fault!
Here’s more of Jennifer Lawrence at the X-Men: Back to the Future Past premiere on Sunday night, along with Hugh Jackman, who also threw back to the year 2000 by wearing a band-aid on his face as an homage to Nelly (not really; it’s because he had some skin cancer removed), JLaw’s About A Hottie boyfriend Nicholas Hoult, Ellen Page looking like a young Jesus going to his bar mitzvah, and Fan Bingbing, who not only brings the glamour EVERY TIME, but also has the hottest name:
The shitty, shitty news (for me) is that I didn’t even come close to winning third place in MegaMillions, so I am not typing this post on a yellow diamond-encrusted MacBook Air on a bed stuffed with Prince Hot Ginge’s beard and pube hairs as a topless Anderson Cooper look-alike feeds me a rare Hostess Vanilla Pudding Pie. The good news for all of us who actually bought a ticket even though there’s a bigger chance of The Difficult Brown going to jail than us winning, the universe gave us a consolation prize: Hugh JackMeOff’s hairy nipples! It’s always a good day when my eyes land on Hugh’s torso fur, because it’s kind of shaped like a pencil dick with a mushroom head.
And does anybody have Duck Dynasty Phil’s P.O. Box address, because I really want to send him my holiday card, which is a picture of Hugh diving into a sea of man anuses.
There was a time when Hugh JackMeOff and John Palermo were producing partners (you decide what they were producing together) and were joined at the (insert your body parts of choice here). Hugh and John ran a production company called Seed Productions (SEED!) together and John was a producer on X-Men Origins: Wolverine and Deception. Three years ago, Hugh and John broke up, took a cum rag to Seed Productions and went their separate ways. Hugh wanted to focus on acting and John got a new deal at Fox. Well, The Hollywood Reporter says that John’s deal with Fox ended a year ago and since then he’s been entertaining himself by spreading the racist and gay-hating fuckery on Facebook. Here’s just some of the shit he spewed out of his finger tips before he shut down his Facebook page.
On The Chenbot’s eyelid surgery: “I’m crazy about Julie Chen!!! Now that her eyes are finally open, she should leave Monster Moonves.”
On Kim and Kanye Kardashian’s mansion in Bel Air: “There goes the neighborhood!!! It looks like a Poor Persian Palace, where’s Kris Jenner when you need her?! #MoneyCantBuyADumbNiggaClass.”
On Anderson Cooper’s man opening a new bar in NYC: “#SmellsLikeLubeAndHIV.”
John told THR that his brain hasn’t crawled to the edge and jumped. He’s just a bored asshole living in the Valley and what do you do when you’re a bored asshole living in the Valley? You talk shit on the Internet, of course. Why is everybody looking at ME like that? Here’s what John said:
“Maybe people [who take offense] will look in the mirror and say, ‘When was the last time I called Les Moonves and asked for an African-American to play opposite me?’ I stopped caring about what Hollywood thinks of me years ago. I’ve got nothing to lose, nothing to gain. I’m a bored dude, unemployed, sitting at home in the Valley. For me, some of the best ways to overcome serious issues is to laugh about them. Because then you truly understand where that ignorance is coming from.”
Yup, he crazy. John is obviously going to do the damage control shuffle into rehab, but since he’s unemployed and probably sleeps all day, he can’t play the “exhaustion” card. Well, I guess he can play the “Hugh Jackman pulled out of my life” card, because that’s a valid reason to check into rehab.