I thought my day was made and I reached for the economy-sized jug of lube when I read the headline this morning about a Hemsworth being in tiny shorts. And then I pushed the economy-sized jug of lube away after realizing it was just Liam Hemsworth and I wasn’t going to get a picture of Thor’s mighty ass muscles putting the seams of shorty shorts to the test. Oh well, I’ll still take it.
So, like a mysterious rash on my ass, I’ve been avoiding addressing this shit, but it’s time. Starting right now, I’m taking a semi-sabbatical (I almost wrote “slutbatical” but that makes it sounds like I’m taking a break from being a slut) from writing on Dlisted for the rest of the summer to deal with health stuff, recharge my mushed-up brains and to write my 3,000 page unauthorized Phoebe Price biography (I wish). And yes, I can feel my mom rolling her eyes while saying, “Health stuff? Pfft, I made your lunch while dropping you off at school on my way to work after 45 minutes of sleep and coughing up pieces of my lungs because I had pneumonia!”
Holiday Programming Note & Open Post: Hosted By David Bowie Grooving Along To George Michael Singing Queen
In case you couldn’t tell from everyone adult wrapping themselves while waiting for 2016 to finally end, it’s the final days of the year. So because it’s that time period between Christmas and New Year’s when many people get drunk at noon while watching the Snapped marathon on Oxygen, we’re going into holiday mode at Dlisted. I’ve gone on vacation with my family, which is sort of like hanging out with them at home. But instead of fighting in my mom’s living room, we fight at a restaurant and make all the other tourists uncomfortable. ‘Tis the season to make strangers nervously push their rice around while trying to drown out the sound of you and your sister fighting about Westworld theories.
Things will be a little lighter around here this week, but our resident guest providers of foolery, Ben and Krista, are coming in to help Allison and me out. They’ll be posting all this week and J. Harvey will cover Saturday. Everything will be back to normal on January 3rd. Although is it ever normal around here?
Yesterday, when I posted the soul-hurting news about George Michael’s death, I posted his performance of Somebody To Love at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert. So I leave you with this video from 1992 of George Michael singing the fuck out of Somebody To Love in rehearsal as David Bowie and Seal dance along. (Or as Sarah Michelle Gellar sees it, Boy George rehearsing as David Byrne and Terence Trent D’Arby dance along.)
“So about you trying to show me up at my own damn tribute concert….” is probably the first thing that Freddie Mercury said to George Michael in heaven.
Buzzfeed tells me that these are pictures of 100% real firefighters from the New Taipei Fire Department’s 2017 calendar. A rep for the fire department gave Buzzfeed a hilarious statement and I love the way he describes nipple tingling pictures of hot, sweaty, dirty firefighters getting wet and working a hose. They really are protecting citizens, because how can a fire break out when coochie cream is splattering all over the place?
A spokesperson for the fire department told BuzzFeed News the photos aim to show the professionalism, determination, and charm of the firefighters, who are dedicated to protecting citizens and their safety.
These pictures are actually pretty dangerous and I’m sure the rate of daily fraudulent calls will rise by 10,000%. Operators will have to be trained to ask, “Miss, do you mean an actual cat?”, when hard-up whores call about how their pussy needs to be rescued.
Speaking of thirsty bitches, I will be guzzling down anything that’s mind-numbing and nibbling on vodka-infused turkey on Thanksgiving with family in Denver this year. So because I’m spending my Skanksgiving in the land of fully legal weed and Casa Bonita, I’ll be on semi-vacation mode for the rest of the week. Allison will be around. Helping her and me, will be one of our new guest bloggers. Sadly, Penelope didn’t work, but we’ve got Krista to help us. Krista is from Texas and she won points when she attached a headshot to her application and the headshot was a picture of Joan Crawford. Krista may need a minute to get fully comfortable in this smegma gutter we call Dlisted. Krista will also fill in for Allison, who will be out for vacation, next week.
Oh, and did I say I was going to Denver? I’m really flying off to New Taipei where I’ll set my pants on fire in hopes that one of these hot real firefighters puts it out with his hose. What’s the number to 911 there?
Pics: New Taipei Fire Department via Buzzfeed
Pictured: Not the new guest writers. Bloggers don’t leave their houses, let alone get dressed up to go to some Halloween shit!
J. Harvey used to be the foolery producer who would step in anytime Allison or I were out, but since he moved to weekends permanently, I put out a call about a month ago for new guest writers. Strangely enough, I found two people who are crazy enough to want to be associated with Dlisted and will help out whenever any of us go on vacation or call in sick (of writing about the lasagna-ruining Kartrashian- Jenners and Trump). Ben and Penelope are our new guest writers!
J. Harvey is out this weekend and so Ben is helping out today and Penelope is helping out tomorrow. Ben will mostly cover weekends. Allison will be out on Halloween (MUST BE NICE!) and is also taking a week off in November for vacation. Penelope will fill in for Allison on those days…unless after one day of working with me, she deletes her e-mail account, deactivates her phone, trashes her laptop and runs off screaming into the hills. That’s possible. And it may take a second or two for Ben and Penelope to get the hang of shit and get comfortable, so please be gentle. Although, you don’t have to be gentle with me. You know I like it rough and mean.
And now here’s pictures from Bette Midler’s annual Hulaween Bash in NYC. Bette made the bitches screaming for that long-awaited Hocus Pocus sequel scream louder by dressing up as Winifred. And next to Bette is Paula Jones as Madonna. No, it’s Marc Jacobs, who I’m guessing dressed as Paula Jones as Madonna.
Oh, it’s the old “beej and finger the piece standing above you” move. And yes, I can drag almost any picture of Prince Hot Ginge into the gutter with me.
This year, my mom had a milestone birthday, and to answer that question in your head, no, I’m not going to tell you which milestone birthday. I do want to see my next birthday. But anyway, to celebrate her birthday, we’re going on a big messy family trip to Paris and Barcelona, and no, I don’t mean Lake Perris, CA and Barcelona, Arkansas. I mean the actual Paris in France and Barcelona in Spain.
So because I’ll be spending a grand total of 20+ hours contorted like a pretzel on a plane and many more hours trying to say, “Why, hello there, officer, can you please tell me where I can purchase some weed?“, in French, I’ll be away from Dlisted. Allison will be here and Martin is going to help her out. J. Harvey is filling in on the weekends. I plan to still post daily, because Hot Slut of the Day and breaking PHG news stops for nothing! The CAPTION THIS Contest is also taking some time off. I will be back on Monday, July 11th.
And now, I leave you with this video of PHG dancing like Tom Hiddleston’s dance coach (Tom Hiddleston wishes) to dad rock masters Coldplay at a benefit concert for his charity Sentebale (which helps children in Lesotho) at Kensington Palace last night:
And here’s pictures of PHG with Prince Seeiso of Lesotho, Coldplay, and his “second daddy” and one of my favorite hot ginger daddies Mark Dyer.
As I said in Night Crumbs last week, Carla sadly didn’t work out as Dlisted’s weekend provider of foolery. Her reign was short and sweet and I loved everything she did here. Now I’d like to introduce to our new weekend writer. I know, I’m like a slutty parent introducing his kids to a new “uncle.”
Once again, Dlisted’s newest weekend writer isn’t Phoebe Price. Chicken Cutlets has much more important contributions to civilization to make, like posing for extremely excited paps (see: the ones behind her) in a custom Armani Privé couture ensemble (or a clearance bin Frederick’s of Hollywood catsuit, funeral curtains, a Maidenform bra and Capezio chonies).
Dlisted’s newest weekend writer is Martin! Martin is from New York and may be weirder than me. The other day, both of our dogs were suffering from the wet shits at the same time, so we bonded over that on IM. I know, you really needed that information in your brain today. But anyway, Martin will handle the weekends while I’m off doing weekend shit. Like today, I’m going to go through my closet and donate anything I can’t fit into anymore. So basically, later tonight, a drunken me will be crying on a giant pile of reminders of a skinnier me as my bare closet has 3 things hanging in it.
Martin may need a minute to get comfortable in this house of messiness, so bear with us as we figure shit out (although, I’ve been doing this for a long time and I’m still figuring shit out). And now I leave you with these gorgeous pictures of PP paying homage to the fame whores of yore by busting out an “accidental” crotch slip in front of the paps. I know you’ll be having fried chicken skins for lunch.