Last week, it seemed like there was trouble in the squad (Side note: Hello, my name is Michael. I’m a grown up and I just wrote “trouble in the squad.“) when Lorde was seen with Taylor Swift enemy Diplo. Diplo once said that someone should start a Kickstarter to buy Taylor Swift an ass. I figured that Girl Squad Captain Taylor would immediately tell Lorde to shred her Hello Kitty membership card and then ask for the copy of the key to the treasure box where they keep the friendship bracelet supplies. But I don’t think that happened, because here’s Taylor Swift (giving you Dollar Tree Elvira Hancock) and Lorde (giving you constipated and stoned Emily the Strange in an Ice Capades show directed by Tim Burton) at Vanity Fair’s Oscar party last night.
But maybe something is up. Lorde does look like she was sedated and is only posing with Taylor because Taylor threatened to expose secrets that could ruin her career. You know, secrets like she really hates the color black, she loves the color pink, Nicholas Sparks is her favorite author, she really feels whole when she smiles and nothing brightens up her day like sunshine. But then again, Lorde always looks like a goth ghost who took too much Ambien, so everything’s probably fine. However, nothing is fine with the blood explosion messiness that Gwen Stefani wore.
While Blake Shelton looked like the most dressed up dude at a hillbilly wedding, Gwen Stefani looked like she was about to star in Carrie On Ice!
It looks like her belly button is barfing blood. She looks like a slutty blood clot. We get it, Gwen. You’re hot. You still got it, bitch. I’m all for a trick trying to get attention by showing her granny panties in a sheer dress, but Gwen could’ve done it without wearing an ensemble that makes me want to throw tampons, Band-Aids and cotton balls at her.
And here’s more pictures from last night’s VF party including some of Justin Timberlake being annoying and Anne Hathaway wearing Mrs. Roper’s favorite disco freakum muumuu.
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.
The Screen Actors Guild Awards was last night and as you know big things happened in diversity. (Well, hello #SAGsSoBlack) But as you also know in life, the good comes with the bad. And if you need further proof of the latter statement take a look at the nominees who walked the red carpet. While many actresses effortlessly slayed (I’m looking at you Rachel McAdams.. “And I’m looking at you, Lori Petty!” – Michael), others lost sense of the space-time continuum and common sense, showing up dressed like a Project Runway reject designed their gowns. The latter remark is best applied to actress Alicia Vikander who wore a long-sleeved, sparkly Louis Vuitton dress that bore a striking resemblance to the afghan on Roseanne’s couch. The dress just screams, “We were short on material while sewing this number” with its large patchwork of mismatched colors and unflattering large squares. Instead of shutting down questions, Alicia’s dress incited a lot more. I ask you, “When has gold and blue ever worked as a color combination?”
I’m sure the snooty fashion mavericks at Louis Vuitton convinced her on that wolf ticket of a dress by saying, “Darling! It’s gorgeous on you! What more can you ask for: chic and 70s-inspired? Voila!” And of course, because she’s obligated by contract as the face of Louis Vuitton to wear it, she fell for it. But I don’t blame Alicia because her thought process is technically hazy considering she’s at stage 10 of dickmatization courtesy of her, er, well-equipped boyfriend Michael Fassbender. Yes, she did nab an award for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Movie for her performance in The Danish Girl which is lovely. But I’m positive all she was concerned about was running back to her hotel room to get some Fassbender lovin.’ “Who cares about this God-forsaken borrowed dress,” Alicia mumbled to herself, statue clutched in her hand, as the elevator ascended back to her complimentary room. “I’m going to get plowed by the best of them as soon as I enter my room.”
My thoughts exactly, Alicia. My thoughts exactly.
For more of the horror show known as the red carpet, browse the slideshow below for WTF moments from some of your favorite actresses such as Nicole Kidman, Kaley Cuoco, Christina Hendricks, Laverne Cox, Rooney Mara, Kate Mara, January Jones, and many more.
Actually, that’s not really out of the ordinary for me – I have a pretty hard-core addiction to yellow mustard (it’s my good shit, bad shit, and everything-in-between shit). So if anything, staring at Jennifer Lopez’s picnic spread-looking dress isn’t doing much more than acting as a reminder that it’s been all of 20 minutes since my last hit. I wish that was a joke, but it’s not – I literally just dipped potato chips in mustard (I call it Sadness Dip).
Crippling mustard dependency aside, I love what JLo is wearing, but it seems very un-JLo to me. Usually when JLo prepares for a fancy red carpet events, her stylists are given two simple instructions:
1. Make JLo look mucho sexy.
2. Make sure that whatever JLo is wearing has enough movement in the arms so she can easily push Casper Smart out of the way when she gets her picture taken.
But JLo’s Golden Globes ensemble doesn’t do either of those things! Yes, JLo looks sexy, but she doesn’t look JLo™ sexy. Like, how are we supposed to know how much industrial-grade high-density liquid body shimmer has been shellacked onto her cleavage if we can’t even seen it? Not to mention that mustard yellow isn’t a color found on JLo’s sexy Pantone color palette (the only colors being: silver, gold, golden bronze, bronze, and DAZZLING).
And how is she supposed to push Casper out of the way properly if she’s wearing a cape that limits her pushing arm to a measly 45-degrees of outstretch? Someone on JLo’s styling team is gonna get fired today.
Here’s more of Jennifer Lopez and Casper Smart (who clearly took advantage of the situation and managed to sneak into some red carpet photos), and a whole mess of fancy-dressed famous types from last night. My personal favorite (besides JLo, of course) is Kirsten Dunst, who looked like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark’s snobby old money Manhattan cousin.
I know shit about fighting, save for what I remember from the 20 minutes of Double Dragon I played on Nintendo before I got bored and threw on Barbie’s Glamorous Quest. So I had to do a bit of research on Ronda Rousey. From what the internet tells me, Ronda Rousey is a really good MMA fighter. She’s so good, she went home with two ESPYs last night, including Best Female Athlete and Best Fighter. I also learned that Ronda can take a bitch down with her expert-level reading skills.
Ronda was presented with the award for Best Fighter on the red carpet last night, and the first thing she did after accepting it was to verbally slap the shit out of fellow Best Fighter nominee and baby mama beater Floyd Mayweather by saying:
“I can’t help but say that I wonder how Floyd feels being beat by a woman for once. I’d like to see you pretend to not know who I am now.”
I don’t know if you can get concussions from words, but Floyd Mayweather Jr. might want to swing by the hospital, just in case. The moment Ronda replaced 50 Cent at the top of Floyd Mayweather shit list happens around the 2:00 mark.
Normally this would be where I’d say “You in danger, girl” to Ronda Rousey, but we don’t even know if Floyd Mayweather even saw the ESPYs. If last night was his night to watch Justin Bieber, then the only channel they were watching was Nick Jr.
Here’s more of Ronda Rousey from last night, as well as Russell Wilson and the woman he’s not fucking, Lindsey Vonn, Halle Berry, A-Rod, and lovable party boy doofus Gronk (who was probably itching to get out of that suit and into a pair of shorts).
Upon hearing this information, thousands of horny hos raised their hands and started screaming “I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!“, myself included. Yes, I would; I’d have to wrap it twice, whisper a prayer to the patron saint of rash creams, and sanitize my pussy with an autoclave afterwards, but I would.
If my memory serves me correctly (the last few remaining brain cells just started nervously tugging at their collars), Colin Farrell has dated pretty much every trick in Hollywood, including all four of the silver lady statues and the Bubblehead girl, but he recently admitted something sort of shocking to The Sunday Times (via E! News): he hasn’t dated anyone in four years.
“I have not dated for, ooh, four years now. It’s just not happening, what with the work, the kids and my life. I know it’s not what people expect to hear, but that’s the honest truth.”
He says his two sons have a lot to do with him putting a CLOSED sign over his junk. Colin adds:
“It’s not all about you anymore, which is a relief. It’s about a bigger world, and helping them find their place in it.”
However, Star (I know) is probably reading this and yelling “LIAR!!!!” at their screens, because they claim he’s totally doing his True Detective co-star Rachel McAdams. A “source” claims Colin and Jake Gyllenhaal’s one-time trial beard have “chemistry” on set and everyone has noticed, but that she’s wary of his past as a chronic hoochie humper and she’s not sure if she wants to make things official.
Colin only said he hasn’t dated anyone in four years, so there is still a chance he’s a hardcore man slut, but that shouldn’t really worry Rachel. Present-day Colin is still an upgrade from 10-years-ago Colin, for the simple fact that he no longer looks like a drunk dirtbag who sweats sex juice and comes whiskey. Wait, why did I just get the vapors all of a sudden?