Right now, Leonardo DiCatchAHo is getting a plank installed on the side of his yacht for his piece-of-the-hour to walk off of after he’s done with her, and that could only mean one thing: IT’S CANNES TIMES! It’s that time of year when actor types pimp out their movies, low-rent fame whores frolic on
yachts sailboats dinghies and movie critics get life from cutting bitches up in their reviews (see: last year’s glorious Grace of Monaco reviews).
The Cannes Film Festival opened tonight with the premiere of Sharknado 3. No, I wish. It opened with the premiere of La Tete Haute. Lupita Nyong’o started this shit off right by giving us some “Mrs. Roper goes to Miami in 1977″ glamour in a Gucci gown that was decorated with what looks like herpes-ridden flowers. Lupita also took us all back to 7th grade science class by serving up some sternum for days. Lupita twirled, twirled, twirled on the red carpet and she twirled so much that she created a strong wind that blew all the way to Atlanta and knocked over self-proclaimed twirl queen Kenya Moore.
Lupita looks fine and everything, but I have one very important question: WHERE IN “DOES SPIRIT AIRLINES FLY TO CANNES?” HELL IS PHOEBE PRICE?! How can Cannes even start without its queen there to fill a seat? Chicken Cutlets is usually at Cannes every single year, because she has a poultry heart made of gold and knows that the festival needs her A-list beauty, glamour and talent. So where art thou, Chicken Cutlets? She probably decided that Cannes is over and it’s all about the Burbank International Film Festival now.
And here’s some others that are NOT Phoebe Price at the opening ceremony tonight. I’m still trying to figure out which superhero Karlie Kloss came dressed as.
In honor of Star Wars Day (May the 4th be…you finish it, I’m too tired from singing the Comedy Bang Bang version of the Star Wars cantina theme), Vanity Fair released several photos taken on the set of Star Wars: The Force Awakens by Annie Leibovitz. Sadly, there are no moody grey-blue shots of Han Solo staring pensively off into the distance while Chewy relaxes on an antique bentwood chair in the background (aka what every Annie Leibovitz picture looks like to me). But we do get to see what some of the new characters look like.
Well, sort of. Vanity Fair says Lupita Nyong’o plays a pirate called Maz Kanata, but she’ll look nothing like she does above in the movie. Lupita’s face is covered in tracking dots so they can CGI in her character’s face later. What a drag! I was like, finally, a character my high school yearbook photos could related to. But no.
Also a bummer was this photo Annie took of a group of Star Wars background characters. See if you can pick out who is missing.
Say it with me now: where the hell is Sy Snootles?!? Maybe she’s hiding behind that slutty protocol droid on the left (that slutty droid would). Sy Snootles is hands-down the hottest character from Star Wars, and I was really hoping J. J. Abrams would do the fans right by bringing her back. I wanna know what happens to Sy Snootles. Does she pull a Beyonce by quitting the Max Rebo Band to go solo or what? These are the important questions.
Here’s more of what some of the new Star Wars characters will look like, including Oscar Isaac as a pilot named Poe Dameron (every emo teen just jizzed themselves over that name) and Adam From Girls as a bad dude named Kylo Ren:
Pics: Vanity Fair
The Case of the Snatched Pearl Dress is possibly closed and surprisingly, it didn’t take Jessica Fletcher to solve that shit. On Tuesday, the dress that looks like a bunch of oysters jacked up all over it was stolen from Lupita Nyong’o’s hotel room at The London in West Hollywood. The cops valued the Calvin Klein Collection dress at $150,000 and pearl experts said it could be worth up to $10 million. Well, the thieves returned the dress, because they say it’s made of fakery.
TMZ says that the pearl robbers called them this afternoon to bitch and moan about how the dress is about as valuable as a rat’s cum load. The thieves claim that they got into Lupita’s room, because somebody left the door slightly open. Once they stole the dress, they took two pearls from it to the garment district in Downtown L.A. to see if they could sell them. They were told the pearls weren’t real. So the thieves put the dress in a trash bag, went back to The London and left it in a bathroom near the gym. TMZ called the cops who later found the dress exactly where the thieves said they left it. Here’s a picture of it:
The thieves said that they called TMZ because they want the world to know about “Hollywood’s fake bullshit.” Thank you, thieves, for this brand new information. You truly have enlightened us. You are heroes. Not only do you have your PhDs in thievery, but you also have your doctorates in wisdom.
These thieves sound like they have brains made of fake pearls, but I’m assuming they’re not dumb enough to take those pearls to a fabric store in the garment district. I’m assuming they took them to a jeweler. I mean, taking pearls to a fabric store to be appraised is like asking me to point out a woman’s G-spot.
As far as my ass knows, there’s 3 possibilities:
1. That dress isn’t made with real pearls.
2. That dress is made of some real pearls and those dumb thieves happened to get 2 fake pearls from the dress appraised.
3. That dress is really covered in 6,000 real pearls and those thieves got a wrong appraisal.
Whatever the case may be, it sounds like those stupid ass thieves got theirs. Well, at least we know that Lindsay Lohan wasn’t involved, because she would never make an amateur mistake like this. Even if she did find out that dress wasn’t made of real pearls, she’d make the most of it. She’d that dress apart and make 500 Lindsay Lohan brand anal beads out of it.
UPDATE: The people at Calvin Klein are apparently playing the “We never said that shit was real” card. Sources tell TMZ that it was Lupita’s stylist who told the cops the dress was worth $150,000 and Calvin Klein’s team never said anything about the dress being made of real pearls. They never said the pearls were fake, because they figured everyone would assume they were fake since this isn’t Ancient Egypt times where hos were covered in real jewels.
The cobblestone street of Via Rodeo in Beverly Hills will once again hear the clickety clack of Detective La Toya’s heels as she holds up her magnifying glass and searches for clues in her newest case: The Case of The Missing Bukkake Dress!
TMZ says that the custom-made Calvin Klein gown that Lupita Nyong’o wore to the Oscars was snatched from her hotel room and the LAPD is on the case. The cops believe that the oyster orgy dress was stolen from her room at The London hotel in West Hollywood between 8 and 9 at night on Tuesday. Lupita wasn’t in her room at the time. You’re probably thinking that the thieving thieves stole the dress to scrape off Lupita’s DNA to clone her, but nope. They probably stole the dress, because it’s made of 6,000 Akoya pearls and is valued at $150,000. The police are going over security footage to find the pearl thief. I got questions:
1. Whenever I stay in a hotel, I lock up my janky ass first-generation iPad in the safe. But yet Lupita just left this $150,000 dress out? The Calvin Klein people didn’t hire a bodyguard to lay his body over that dress at all times? If they didn’t want to do that, they could’ve just covered the dress with this picture. Nobody would’ve gone near it. In fact, they would’ve run from it screaming.
2. I thought that right after the Oscars ended, the designer’s assistants jumped on the celebrity, took back her borrowed dress and jewels and left her naked on the street?
The cops should really get a search warrant to search the Scientology Centre. Because if you rolled up that dress really tight, it’d be a great, big, thick, anal bead-encrusted dildo. But seriously, I’m sure they’ve already tried to bring in Lindsay Lohan, because when anything goes missing you should immediately point at a Lohan. But they probably can’t find her, because right now she’s on the beaches of Puerto Vallarta selling celebrity worn pearl necklaces out of a leather suitcase.
A wise ho once told me “You can be classy, sassy, or assy” (truly wise words to live by), and since we’ve already covered sassy and assy, here’s Lupita Nyong’o working some classy. Lupita is the definition of class to begin with, but she could have shown up wearing a pearl-covered coochie shield and I still would have thrown her into the classy pile, because pearls are classy as hell. You could throw the trashiest, dirtiest skank in a pearl necklace (not THAT kind), and you’d be all “Excuse me, madame – may I offer you a glass of Champale and a cigarette that I didn’t roll myself just now in the bathroom?”
But really, what more is there to say about Lupita Nyong’o’s amazing pearl-encrusted Oscar dress than: PEARLS. So many pearls. Every pearl. Sorry, oysters, all your pearls are belong to us. And by us, I mean Lupita; she has all your pearls now. Your job here is done, oysters; all you have now is being delicious when shucked raw and topped with mignonette sauce. And to Lupita’s stylist (who I assume is Pearl Van Oyster from The Waterville Gang), good job on the diamond earrings; I think pearls would have been too on-the-nose.
Here’s more of Lupita looking like the Atlantis entry into the Miss Universe pageant, as well as just about every other fancy dressed type at the Oscars last night, including Julianne Moore, JLo looking like the textbook definition of JLo, and the ghost of my last duvet Marion Cotillard:
As I said earlier, the Oscars were a boring dress parade and I’ve seen more exciting dresses at my mom’s office holiday party. Well, it looks like all the real glamour and demure sophistication was the Vanity Fair viewing and after-party. Not only was Joan Collins there with a wig hovering above her head like a glorious halo, but Crispo Ronaldo’s ex-piece Irina Shayk and the walking community theater production of RiRi’s life titled Rita Ora all wore hot outfits that let everyone know that they traded in their panties for a stick-on pussy patch.
Irina Shayk’s pantyhose dress thing is like the more modest and athletic cousin of that exquisitely classic, coochie-flashing gown that Jaimie Alexander wore in 2013. My only question besides “How many people were treated for elegance inhalation from being exposed to Irina?” is, “How did she piss?” Was there a discreet zipper involved? A snap-off thing? Or did the crotch area have a small hole where she could just stick in a Go Girl and handle it? Even if she couldn’t piss in that bodysuit gown thing and had to hold it all night, it’s worth it. Getting a bladder infection is worth bringing loads of ravishing glamour to the masses.
I bet across town at Denny’s Oscar viewing party, style icon Edy Williams raised a mug full of pink wine and soda water in the air and toasted to Irina Shayk and Rita Whora. Irina just needed more exposed nipple and a random dog, and her Edy Williams tribute would’ve been perfect.
And here’s at least 10 billion pictures from Vanity Fair’s party including pictures of Joan Collins and Monica Lewinsky (????).
No, you didn’t fall into some kind of weird time rip that sucked you back in time to last year’s awards season where all anyone could talk about was whether or not Lupita Nyong’o was humping on the Greasy Jesus of Bushwick Jared Leto. It’s still 2015, and we’re still wondering if Lupita Nyong’o is currently spending her mornings washing Jared’s musty bike seat ball stink off her down-lows.
The last time we checked in on Lupita love life, she was dating Canadian rapper K’naan. Not Canada’s best rapper, but I digress. But UsWeekly says that relationship is as dead as Jared’s peroxide-dipped split ends, and she was seen getting “very flirty” with Jared during a SAG Awards afterparty in Sunday night. A source claims:
“He came in and spoke to Harvey [Weinstein] for a second, than raced right for Lupita. He hugged her and started whispering to her quietly.” The unattached actress was receptive to Leto’s attention, following his lead as he “dragged her right to the dance floor.”
While dancing, the stars “were whispering and laughing” closely together. “At one point they were sticking their tongues out at each other and staring into each others eyes. It was very flirty. Then Jared said he had to go but he told her to text him later and he ran off.”
Lupita was probably just checking his tongue for traces of Horny Rodent Rot. Of course, an insider (the stoned lice that live in Jared’s hair) tells Hollywood Life that you can stop picturing the words Mrs. Lupita Let’o, because the rumor that they’re humping on each other is 100% bullshit:
“Jared and Lupita are super super close and really good friends. It definitely could have been looked at as a major flirt fest but they are so close from spending so much time in last years award season that they just started from where they left off, the affection comes from a friendly place and not a budding relationship. They are not dating.”
Just friends, eh? Well in that case, I’d like to remind Lupita that it’s her job as Jared’s friend to make sure he doesn’t leave the house looking like a total mess. Friends don’t let friends show up to the SAG Awards looking like a low-budget Carrie Bradshaw, Lupita.
You know you’re a legend-in-the-making when you roll up to the SAG Awards and serve up a hot slice of red carpet eleganza better than the SAG Awards red carpet itself. I bet the red carpet spent the rest of the night hissing “That bitch stole my look!” to anyone who would listen before finally accepting the fact that Lupita Nyong’o did it better. Bitch color-coordinated her dress to everything around her! That’s commitment.
Yes, technically Lupita’s dress is a typical fancy awards show dress, but it also sort of looks like what I imagine Beetlejuice’s prom date wore to the Netherworld High prom, or a piece of avant-garde Christmas wrapping paper. Lupita’s dress looks like the curtains Maria would use to make power suits for the von Trapp children if they ever remade The Sound of Music and set it in 1984. But more than anything, it reminds me a piece of goth Fruit Stripe gum, and I love it, because I love goths and I love Fruit Stripe gum.
Also, it’s got one of those huge-ass skirts you can sit with your legs wide open in all night and won’t show wine stains, which always gets two ketchup chip crumb-covered thumbs up from a slob like me.
Here’s more of Lupita working it out on the red carpet, as well as Emma Stone (whose shady goth real estate agent dress tried to take out Naomi Watts), a My Little Victoria Pony-looking Lorelei Linklater, Laverne Cox who – as usual – did Beyonce better than Beyonce, and everyone else:
The Glamour 2014 Women of the Year event was held last night in New York (hopefully it didn’t interfere with Cosmo’s Excellence in Pleasuring Your Man Awards), and one of said women being honored was Lupita Nyong’o, because – duh – she’s great. And to celebrate being crowned Best Woman or whatever, she rolled up to the event – chill as fuck – wearing a pair of formal bike shorts. Lupita don’t give a hot damn about a fancy gown! Lupita dresses for comfort!
As I mentioned yesterday, wearing clothes is hard, and sometimes you just want to keep it casual and let your down-low bits do their thing. Sometimes that means saying “Fuck Spanx!” and wearing a dress like a deflated hot air balloon, and other times that means pulling on a pair of shorts. I always wear shorts under my shorter skirts, for two reasons: so I can sit with my legs open when I start to get tired, and to ensure that no one catches a glimpse of my bits when I do so. Obviously Lupita feels the same way. But she knew that being honored with a Glammy calls for wearing something a little more formal than a pair of cut-off leggings, so she churched up a pair of white shorts with some rhinestones and beads. Leave it to that flawless bitch to be able to sit with her legs open and look classy as hell while doing it! Lupita truly is the woman of the year.
Here’s more of Lupita looking like a futuristic bike messenger bride at the Glammys last night, and more women at the Women of the Year event, including Jodie Foster, pussy lobbyist Amy Schumer, and the human definition of WERK IT HUNTY, Laverne Cox.
Lupita Nyongo’s either doing that “I pledge allegiance to the flag” shit because it’s the July issue or she’s doing that “Ow, my shoulder hurts but I’m going to emote fabulousness while dealing with the pain” pose you learn during your second year at Barbizon.
Vogue has been sinking into a bottomless puddle of lukewarm crap ever since KimYe were on the cover and so the grand dame of the Death Eaters Anna Wintour is trying to pull her magazine out of that shit lake by putting someone worthy on the cover. Lupita Nyong’o finally got her first cover of Vogue and it’s a double win, because her cover has the word PUSSY on it. The pictures, which were shot by Mikael Jansson in Morocco, are hot, but they’d be way hotter if in the background of every picture was a naked Prince Hot Ginge eating a Double Double.
During the interview with Hamish Bowles, who thinks he permanently lives in a Merchant Ivory movie, Lupita talks about going to Yale, her family self-exiling themselves to Mexico, going to Yale, Shakespeare, going to Yale, winning an Oscar and did I mention that she talks about going to Yale? The only quote of Lupita’s I’m going to paste is the one quote she said she didn’t want to be the “big quote.” Lupita says that putting on a $10,000 designer dress and posing in front of photographers before going into the venue to drink champagne with Michael Fassbender is a lot like a war zone. Now bitch, the Goopy in you is showing….
Nothing can prepare you for awards season,” she continues. “The red carpet feels like a war zone, except you cannot fly or fight; you just have to stand there and take it.” She considers for a moment. “I hope they don’t make that the big quote!” she says, laughing. “Because that would be sad! Tell them not to do that!”
Yes, because Lupita HAS to put on that designer gown and she HAS to pose in front of those photographers and she HAS to go that fancy party where she HAS to do top-shelf tequila shots with Brad Pitt. Celebrities are the true heroes of the world for going through that kind of torture. Every night we all pray that we’ll never get drafted into the celebrity world where we’ll be forced to make millions of dollars and wear designer clothes to party with Meryl Streep. I’m surprised that Lupita was able to pose for these pictures, because you’d think that every time a flash went off she’d have a PTSD breakdown.
But I’ll save my rage toward Lupita for when she does something that’s truly unforgivable like wear CROCs out in public or “like” Nickelback on Facebook.