Bethenny Frankelstein is still in the middle of wrapping her velociraptor claws around her estranged husband Jason Hoppy’s nutsack during their divorce battle, but she took a little time out from licking his ballsack blood while cackling at the top of Castle Grayskull to frolic in the ocean with a new buff piece. People says that the creator of the sangria that tastes like trucker piss mixed with Equal is currently fucking Michael “Mac” Cerussi III, a banker type who lives in NYC. Mac and Bethenny (which sounds like the name of a terrifying sequel to Mac and Me, and you know, Bethenny kind of looks like Mac with a wig on) took their new love to Miami and spent New Year’s together. Some source tells People that Mac and Bethenny were all over each other’s face on New Year’s Eve:
“Bethenny was with Mac and looked very happy on New Year’s Eve. They kissed at midnight and other times during the evening. They looked like they were having a great night.”
The only thing we know about Mac (because I’m sure you’re dying to know everything about who Bethenny Frankelwhatever is boning) is that he’s in finance, his family is fancy and he’s 9 years younger than 43-year-old Bethenny. I’m also going to assume that Mac is legally deaf since that’s the only way any human can stand to be exposed to Bethenny’s ear-killing voice for longer than 5 seconds.
I know I’m hating, but I’m actually into this couple. Mac looks like He-Man after a haircut and Bethenny looks like Skeletor after a few master cleanses, so together they’re bringing my He-Man fanfiction wet dreams to life!
“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.
And today’s panty pudding moment is brought to you by a drunken and doucheified ASkars doing a dude bro cheer for his team Hammarby Fotball at a football match in Sweden recently. This is like a scene out of Braveheart if Braveheart took place in modern day Sweden and the Medieval Scottish soldiers were replaced with drunken football fans and Mel Gibson was replaced with a hot, angry ASkars. Here’s the video and while you’re watching it, I’m going to add “get drunk with ASkars and have him curse at me in Swedish” to my cum bucket list.
alex: all of you can go to hell, [some name on S I think] look at me you fucking pussy
random person: look at his magical fucking hairdo
alex: who’s the best team? (and then a couple of more similar questions that I can’t make out)
crowd: hammarby (the name of the team)
alex and crowd: we’re the hottest we’re the best we’re the ones who win the most…hammarby…clapping.
“Look at me, you fucking pussy.” If ASkars ever says that to you, you can pull down your panties, stare at him with your crotch and say that your Swedish is not so good and you thought you heard him say, “Look at me with your fucking pussy.”
But something must’ve gotten lost in translation, because I think that random person is saying, “look at his flaming vampire viking dick,” instead of, “look at his magical fucking hairdo.” But “magical fucking hairdo” really is the greatest compliment you can give anyone.
And let’s not forget the drunken ASkars video to end all drunken ASkars videos:
If that picture was a postcard, it’d be addressed to Tommy Girl and it’d say, “You wish you were here, bitch!”
Like Paula Deen at a slavery-themed wedding, John Travolta was filled with pure potent happiness yesterday when he spread his legs and got down next to some topless dudes while shooting a commercial in Rio for a Brazilian brand of booze called Ypióca. Everybody on that beach in Rio now knows what fried Thetans smell like. Because all the Thetans on John Travolta’s itchy itchy anus burned up and exploded when he got hot while being the cheese in that hot piece
panini peenini. Yes, that crap on John Travolta’s chin looks like a beaver’s taint (that the closest he’ll ever get to having a beaver on his chin), but he’s living the wet dream. XENU IS GOOD!
“Rollin’ to the music and shakin’ real fast. Bend over backwards, make me shout. And work that pussy, in and out!”
I always knew that on the inside I’m a just young British girl in a shiny purple puffy coat, leggings and Burberry rain boots.
During a charity polo game at The Beaufort Polo Club in Gloucestershire, England, Prince William and Prince Hot Ginge strutted through the field when one of his devoted disciples took a picture of him and then gave birth to a huge ball of excitement right there on the grass. I said in the headline that this is just a natural reaction, but this is actually a pretty subdued reaction to being that close to PHG’s royal bag of treasures. I would’ve prolapsed and dragged my innards across the grass to get PHG to autograph my nipple plate and most hos would’ve been tripping over the ovaries falling out of their snatch to get to him.
So yeah, this girl totally played it cool.
If David O. Russell’s Abscam movie succeeds at one thing it’ll be turning Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper and Jeremy Renner into three gorgeous messes from the 70s. They’ve made Christian Bale look like a sleazy used car salesman who fucks with his loafers on and tastes like cologne and sweat. They’ve made B. Coop look like a porn producer who smells like perm stank and screams “Don’t touch curls!” at least once a day. And now, as Lainey puts it, they’ve made Jeremy Renner look like a third rate Joe Pesci impersonator. That wig really brings out the Grumpy Cat in his face.
Who ever is responsible for this mess should just accept their Oscars now. They should get an extra special award for making Elisabeth Rohm (I think that’s her) look like Cinderella’s evil stepmother gone disco.
I don’t know where I’ve been, because I have never noticed David Beckham’s beautiful bubble bottom butt before. It’s glorious. Is he wearing push-up panties, because his ass is so high that it looks like it’s worshiping God. No wonder Becks’ former stalker Tommy Girl wanted to surgically attach his tongue to Becks’ anus lips. He wanted to wake up in dat ass for the rest of his days and I can’t blame him. I want to lay my head on that ass. I want to eat Thin Mints off that ass. I want to miniaturize myself and jump on it like I’m in a Sleepy’s commercial. I want to stay miniaturized and twirl around on his butt cheeks while singing, “the hiiiiiiiiiills are alive.”
Screw that football shit, with nalgas like that, he should be the captain of the Twerk Team. It’s a damn shame that Posh Beckham won’t munch on his ass, because she thinks butt has too many calories in it. When he wiggles it and convinces her to lick it, she probably pours a little Sensa on it before she eats. How dreadful and a waste of some good Honey Baked ham ass.
Here’s pictures of Becks’ nearly busting the back seams of his pants at a stadium in Bejing yesterday and also pictures of him signing autographs at an event for his H&M bodywear line in Berlin.
Here’s Michael Douglas and Matt Damon as Liberace and Liberace’s young piece Scott Thorson on the cover of Entertaintment Weekly. My nipples are not secreting rhinestone water, so that tells me that Michael Douglas looks nothing like Liberace in this picture. This looks more like a butch Walter Mercado throwing a fur coat on a young Regis Philbin wax figure.
Michael and Matt play Liberace and Scott Thorson in Steven Sodbergh’s Behind the Candelabra, which airs on HBO in May, and they both talked to EW about what it was like transforming themselves into crystal-encrusted beauties. Matt says that one of the most awkward things he had to do for the movie was to get a weekly spray tan since Scott Thorson wouldn’t be seen in a metallic thong unless his skin was the same shade as Liberace’s gilded cock ring. The other awkward thing Matt had to do was dry hump on Michael Douglas from the back.
As for their sex scenes together (and trust us, the movie has plenty), Damon and Douglas both say that shooting a moment of passion is always awkward, no matter who’s involved. “The scene where I’m behind him and going at him, we did that in one take,” recalls Damon, laughing. “We do it. Cut. There’s a long pause. And then you just hear Steven go, “Well… I have no notes.”
Well, I’m glad that this movie has scene after scene of Michael Douglas getting pounded by Matt Damon while wearing a Mama’s Family wig, because that’s exactly what’s been missing from my life.
No, this isn’t a picture of Lindsay Lohan and White Oprah having a beautiful mother-daughter bonding moment. But if you’re a sucio-brained freak who really wants to fap to soft-core incest porn between a mother and a daughter who look like two bags of rotten freeway oranges left out in the San Fernando Valley sun, then just squint your eyes, believe and your genitals will make it happen. You nasty shit.
This is Dog the Bounty Hunter and his wife Beth Dog leaving a tanning salon in West Hollywood, CA yesterday afternoon. I call STAGED PHOTO-OP, because Dog and Beth don’t keep their skin looking like two pieces of jerky made from Panda Express’ orange chicken by going to a tanning salon. That’s for amateurs. They paid the McDonald’s corporation millions of dollars to build them a giant deep fryer in their home. They put on their goggles, lay in the giant basket, get dipped in the oil and come out looking like the sun just barfed all over them.
If you’re a sucio-brained freak who really wants to fap to soft-core porn between two dogs who look like two bags of rotten freeway oranges left out in the San Fernando Valley sun, you don’t have to squint your eyes in order for your genitals to make it happen.
And on a different note, Dog’s deep fried pompadour mullet is so beautiful. It looks like a mane of French’s french fried onions. Add some green beans and you have a delicious casserole.
Tatler Magazine has something they do called Man of the Year, but my guess is they made that mess up this issue just so they could give to Prince Hot Ginge and just so they could use this precious picture of him wearing a Prince Charming costume from the Disney store and a beret from Troop Beverly Hills. My only complaints are that Tatler didn’t also put this cover out in bottom bed sheet form for my mattress and that they didn’t use a piece of toilet paper to wipe up the shit-covered skid mark of skank words next to PHG’s face. But don’t let a Karkrashian stop you from fapping. It’s kind of like when you’re getting it good with a hot piece, but his breath smells like curdled goat milk and dog farts, so you just focus on his hotness and block out the stankness. It’s just like that.