When I was a little kid, I discovered comic books and fell in love with
jacked men in tights the art form. My mom checked out an issue to make sure they weren’t actually porn, and drove me to the comic shop exactly one time. This was probably to make sure I wouldn’t be bullied by the two mouth-breathing dudes who were always at the counter ready to throw punches over who was the better Green Lantern.
Naomi Watts really did a number on me last year when it came out that (despite Liev Schrieber’s versatility in bouncing from a Shakespearean role to playing Cotton Weary in Scream) Liev would NOT maintain his 11-year part in pleasing Naomi’s Aussie cooch. The duo split, and garbled out the typical “We have huge love and respect for one another and high hopes for it to remain that way going forward” ca-ca. That is the usual prerequisite in Hollywood, before one of them fucks a member of the hired help and then has to buy them a Prius as hush money.
Well, it seems Naomi’s role as a horny therapist in Gypsy is sending tingles to her lady bits, as Page Six reports. Supposedly, she’s bumping Down Unders with her TV-husband (and MasterCard “Priceless” guy!) Billy Crudup. Continue reading
Liev Schreiber and Gerard Butler are both famous dudes with brown hair in their late 40s who are famous for playing tough macho types that either yell or talk in a low whisper. It sounds like they can add something else to the list of things they have in common. On Wednesday, Liev was spotted strolling around Los Angeles with his arm around Gerard Butler’s on-again/off-again girlfriend Morgan Brown.
And here comes 2016 to drag another relationship into the Love Is Dead Cemetery and bury it next to Brangelina’s marriage.
Well, this one hurts. Tall piece of emotionless hotness Ray Donovan (real name: Liev Schreiber) and Naomi Watts were at the Venice Film Festival earlier this month (see: pictures below) to pimp out their movie The Bleeder, and they were pretty much over as a couple at that point. Everyone is breaking up! They both put out a statement to everyone today saying that they’re separating after 11 years and politely told us nosy whores to please respect the “privacy please” sign hanging on the front door to their lives:
“Over the past few months we’ve come to the conclusion that the best way forward for us as a family is to separate as a couple. It is with great love, respect, and friendship in our hearts that we look forward to raising our children together and exploring this new phase of our relationship. While we appreciate your curiosity and support, we ask the press to be mindful of our children and respect their right to privacy.”
Liev and Naomi made two sons together: 9-year-old Alexander “Sasha” Pete and 7-year-old Samuel Kai.
Since it seems like nowadays two famous types can’t break up without some sort of ESCANDALO coming out, I won’t be too surprised if I have to use the “scandal” tag in a future post about Liev and Naomi. (And yes, I see those old “wandering peen” rumors and blind items winking at me.)
And if celebrity break-ups come in threes, I wonder who’s next? Beyonce and Jay-Z? Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson? Shauna Sand and Lucite heels ? (Why did I even put that out there?) That demonic cunt 2016 better not even look at Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. My almost-dead and frozen heart will really die and freeze over if Joanna and Dean from Overboard end their unbreakable love.
When I saw Alicia Vikander (now Academy Award Winner Alicia Vikander) stroll down the red carpet last night, it gave me a massive nostalgia high. A lot of people probably did, thanks to Alicia’s Beauty and the Beast realness. But gazing upon that pale yellow poofy Louis Vuitton dress instantly whooshed me back to memories of playing a game called Beautiful Lady in my childhood bedroom. The rules of Beautiful Lady were simple: look like a beautiful lady. Usually I would play it safe and throw on a Dress n’ Dazzle 3-in-1 Glamour Gown and my exquisite Burger King ThunderCats ring. But if I wanted to look extra beautiful, I’d pull the fitted sheet off my bed and make a stunning ballgown.
I liked to use the fitted sheet because it was far more glamorous and show-stopping than the flat sheet. It puffed out at the bottom, and as everyone knew in the 80s, puffy = instant sophistication. It was dead easy – I’d just wrap it around my waist and fasten it with a banana clip. Then I’d throw on my “wig” (a pair of black nylons) and wait for the flattery to roll in. Alicia clearly knows that Beautiful Lady is always the look, because she made sure to pair her bedsheet dress with flat-on-top/long-in-the-back hair too. Although I don’t think her jewelry came from Burger King. If I had to guess, it’s probably some cheap crap from Harry Winston or something.
Alicia wasn’t the only one who was giving me flashbacks to my homemade fashion years. Kate Winslet also took me for a walk down memory lane.
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.