The craziest members of the Hiddlestoners have been accused of doing some insane shit like jumping on him at events, nearly trampling each other to get an autograph from him, following him home and on and on and on and on… (“Eh, is that all?” said a Cumberbitch before breaking into B. Cums’ bedroom to rub their bare crotch on all of his unworn underwear.) Tom Hiddleston has said before that he’s sick of being asked to take selfies and some of his fans can get obsessive by telling him that he’s solely responsible for certain things that have happened to them in their lives. In other words, some are insane. During an interview with The Guardian to promote Crimson Peak, Tom was asked about his over-obsessed fans and he said these words of polite diplomatic poetry about the whole situation:
“[It’s] an odd experience. But I won’t be the first person to have thought that. I’m only in control of my own integrity. I’m accountable for everything I’ve done and I understand that. Everything else is out of my control.”
That’s either a polite way of saying, “Get some integrity too, you crazy bitches!” or it’s a polite way of letting everyone know that he carries pepper spray and always has a stack of restraining orders in his jacket pocket.
Tumblr’s favorite fap material continued to talk about integrity when he was asked about his public persona:
“I have tried with all my power for there not to be any inauthenticity. There is no version of me presented to you that’s been created or is artificial. The people I’ve always respected have an integrity that is unassailable.”
And he’s so careful about his public persona that he’s not going to talk about politics (take note, rest of Hollywood).
“I’m not in the business of being politically divisive. I don’t want to set a precedent. It’s a private matter. I believe in kindness. I believe very profoundly in that. I believe in bravery and courage, in being true to your word … Very unfashionable.”
The Guardian’s interviewer said that Tom was very careful with his words, because he knows the game and knows that there’s a chance his quotes can be taken out of context. I feel that, because in this interview, he sounded like a cross between Jesus and the hero in a Disney movie. I don’t know whether I want to lay at his Jesus sandals and listen to him talk about “integrity” or help him put his dragon-fighting armor on as he gives a speech about “bravery.” Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean I’m turning into a fucking Hiddlestoner.
And here’s Tom at the BFI London Film Festival premiere of High Rise with Elisabeth Moss and Sienna Miller who is wearing something that Marcia Brady would wear if she joined a cult in the 70s.
With just a few words, Tom Hiddleston has guaranteed that his movie Crimson Peak will make at least $500 million in its opening weekend, because his horny fans will pay to see multiple showings so they can experience multiple genital squirts while seeing his blown-up ass cheeks on an IMAX (more like clIMAX) screen. While promoting Crimson Peak during an interview with E!, Tom said that his porcelain peaks make an appearance in the movie, because lady nipples show up in movies all the time and he feels like it’s time to balance it out with more man parts.
“It’s so often in movies that women are more naked than men and that’s unfair. We wanted to sort of redress the balance. I didn’t have a problem with the nakedness because I felt that there’s always been a strain of sexuality in Gothic romance as much as there has been the fear of death and the threat of violence. It’s a very violent film and I felt like we needed to balance that. So if we’re going to bring up the violence we needed to bring up the sense of sexuality.”
I’m with Tom and I’m all for his “More Naked Dudes” movement, but just showing his ass isn’t going to balance things. Millions of movies have servings of man ass in it. I’ll just name a few (just a few): Showgirls, Magic Mike, Magic Mike XXL, Shame, Troy, The Terminator, American Gigolo, Demolition Man, Love and Other Drugs, American Psycho, In The Cut, Friends with Benefits, The Wolf of Wall Street, The Full Monty, Die Hard 2, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Lethal Weapon, Blue Velvet and Starship Troopers.
And that’s just what’s in my head. That’s not even 1/4th of what’s in the file folder on my desktop titled “Man Ass In Movies.” So if Tom really wants to be at the forefront of equality, he needs to show his rock hard peen under bright lights and in front of a 3D camera. Do it, Tom! Do it for feminism!
And here’s Tom with Luke Evans and a lubed-up Sienna Miller at the premiere and photo call for his other new movie High Rise at the San Sebastian International Film Festival in Spain.
If you dropped acid before reading Dlisted today (which I always recommend doing), you probably read that headline and then got the image of a doctor cutting Sienna Miller out of a giant black mass on Johnny Depp’s body.
Thanks to Sienna Miller (and the fake baby), American Sniper and Foxcatcher got a lot of Oscar nominations, and well, Black Mass was getting award season buzz (Side note: A huge chunk of me dies every time I type “award season buzz”) until now. The director of Black Mass dun goofed, because he cut Oscar lucky charm Sienna Miller from the movie.
If Glastonbury was still going on, a pair of wellies would’ve been hung on a pole at half-mast today, because the bohemian hipster duke and duchess of England may have wrapped their dead engagement in an antique lace tablecloth and buried it on a bed of dried wild flowers while humming the melody of a Mumford & Sons song.
This break-up news came out of The Sun’s mouth and was delivered to us by The Daily Mail, so it’s like listening to Benita Buttrell from In Living Color tell you something that Babette from Gilmore Girls whispered in her ear. A source claims that Sienna Miller and Tom Sturridge’s recent holiday in Formentera, Spain with their 3-year-old daughter Marlowe (pictures below) was their last attempt to Super Glueing their broken relationship, but it didn’t work. A source says that nothing ESCANDALO happened. Sienna and Tom just decided that they were done touching genitals after 4 years together. The source went through the file marked “generic break-up statements given by an anonymous source” and handed their choice over to The Sun.
“Tom and Sienna split a few weeks ago but still love and respect each other as friends and parents. It’s a very amicable break-up and they intend to remain great friends.”
Sienna’s rep had nothing to say about this and neither did Tom’s.
I refuse to believe this rumor until the secret alarm that is hidden in every wedding band goes off, alerting married people to watch out! Sienna Miller and her legendary bull dozer vagina are back!
Sienna is shooting a movie with Ben Affleck soon, so I was already getting my eyeballs ready for tabloid story after tabloid story about how those two are fucking until all the air in his trailer’s tires seeps out. It’s going to be thirty times worse now. But on behalf of proud sluts everywhere, I’m begging our slut leader to not use her chocha to pick the low-hanging fruit that is Ben Affleck. Sienna is better than that! Okay, she should do it once and then keep her coochie moving.
Leave It To Dita Von Teese To Serve Up Flawless Retro Goth Alice In Wonderland Table Runner Realness
I don’t know if that’s actually a look, but it is now. Katy Keene’s closest living relative Dita Von Teese showed up at the amfAR Gala in Cannes today looking like a recently-divorced teacher from Ever After High who has decided to use up all her vacation days on a two week trip to Las Vegas with her best gals, Dottie and Trixie, and I love it. It’s like Alice in Wonderland meets Cry Baby meets a good push-up bra and a box of Clairol Nice n’ Easy #122. I feel like at any moment, a white rabbit is going to pop out of her cleavage and offer me a martini.
She also totally reminds me of one of the bedrooms in my aunt’s old house. My aunt had two fancy guest bedrooms, the white room and the blue room. I didn’t like staying in the white room because there were two old Raggedy Ann dolls that freaked me out, so I always picked the blue room. The blue room was opulent as hell; it was like Versailles farted on Liberace. Everything was covered in blue satin and embroidered with fancy beads and tassels and various decorative shim-shams. It was a wash-your-hands-twice-and-don’t-touch-nothing kind of room.
Basically what I’m trying to get at is that Dita Von Teese looks very classy and all, but she’s missing a decorative bolster pillow placed carefully on her boobs.
Here’s more of Dita at the amfAR Gala in Cannes, as well as a bunch of other fancy dressed famous types, like Rita Ora, Adrien Brody, the tallest of the Kalabasas Klan, and Robin Thicke. Yes, Robin Thicke is still getting invited to things.
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.
“Face, face, work it, sell it. It’s that time of the month and there isn’t a tampon big enough to handle all this fierce mythological leakage” is what I assume was running through Jennifer Lopez’s brain while she was posing for her life. I know, that was redundant – JLo is always posing for her life. But last night she was working her sexy cat face hard, because it’s the only trick she had left to draw any attention away from that blood-barfing dragon thing on her dress.
I know it’s probably supposed to be fire, but let’s be honest with ourselves – it looks like blood. Either that, or that dragon ate too many Twizzlers during a red wine bender and is heaving them all up. Regardless, I can definitely see some Game of Thrones-obsessed boyfriend trying to recreate this dress for his girlfriend using a beige body stocking and $200 worth of sequins and stick-on gemstones from Hobby Lobby. “It appears your dress has lit my loins on fire, m’lady.”
Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe that dragon is trying to yank the attention away from JLo’s killer body-oddy-oddy. For real, where is she hiding her Spanx? She’s not wearing any, you say? Oh, cool (loud shame weeping).
Here’s more of JLo, as well as Donatella Verrr-SOH-chee, who was dressed in some kind of weird black and red fishnet…sticker book…thing, and a bunch of other famous types in red dresses. Oh, and also Sienna Miller in what appears to be a child’s sized tuxedo with no shirt.
Pics: Splash, Wenn.com
Less than two weeks ago, Bradley Cooper was seen mouth humping on Suki Waterhouse at Coachella, but the on-again portion of their on-again off-again relationship might actually be the off-again again, because Page Six is saying that on Wednesday night he was spotted on a date with Cristiano Ronaldo’s former piece and slutty couture enthusiast Irina Shayk. Damn, Bradley Cooper works fast! (“Yeah…Bradley Cooper…” thinks Bradley Cooper’s PR people).
A “source” says Sack Lodge from Wedding Crashers (never forget) and Irina know each other through mutual friends, and have been hanging out for about a week. Last night they went to see Finding Neverland on Broadway. The source doesn’t say, but I choose to believe they also made their butt holes beg for mercy by having dinner at Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar, because a Broadway date isn’t a Broadway date unless you spend 2/3 of the show uncomfortably shifting around in your seat trying to hold in a fart.
Irina Shayk is a perfect match for Bradley Cooper: she’s 29-years-old (under 30 – check), a Sports Illustrated model (model – check), and she dated Cristiano Ronaldo for 5 years (minimum 3 years on-the-job experience with mirror-obsessed pretty boys – check).
The only problem is that hair; IT’S TOO GORGEOUS. You know Bradley Cooper is the type who has to have the best hair in the relationship (which might explain why Suki always looked like a bunch of teenage rats had a slumber party in hers), so I’m not sure I see this ending well. Maybe they’ll work something out during contract negotiations, like a serum ban or something.
And speaking of Broadway, here’s Bradley Cooper strolling around NYC with Broadway superstar Sienna Miller on Tuesday.
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 (????).
It’s a shitty shame that SkyMall is close to death, because they’re the ones to sell an Amy Adams scarf.
The cover of last year’s Vanity Fair Hollywood issue wasn’t sixty layers of awful as usual, so I guess this year they decided to go back to wet farting up covers that look a shitty mess. They took the actors from some of the this year’s Oscar-nominated movies and threw them all on this raggedy cover together. On it are: Amy Adams, Channing Tatum, Reese Witherspoon, Eddie Redmayne, Felicity Jones, David Oyelowo, Benedict Cumberbatch, Sienna Miller, Oscar Isaac and Miles Teller. Almost everybody on this cover looks like hell. Vanity Fair did them wrong. Amy Adams looks like she’s been suffering from the flu for two weeks, Carol Channing Tatum O’Neal looks like a smug caveman lothario who’s carrying the woman he just clubbed, Laura Jeanne Poon’s tits look like a tiny flat ass, Eddie Redmayne and B. Cums look like two creepy aliens you can’t trust and Miles Teller loos like a confused poodle who just got Dirty Sanchez’d. Behold the pullout:
They look like a bunch of high schoolers who left prom early, got drunk on Boone’s Farms in the parking lot and then piled into a booth at Denny’s to share a plate of french fries.
I hear some of you screaming, “Who did Sienna Miller’s publicist blow to get her on that cover?” Sorry home wrecker haters, but she belongs on that cover. Not only did she say one of the important lines in Foxcatcher (“I said hi, Mark”) but she acted alongside one of the most relevant and biggest stars in Hollywood today: the fake baby from American Sniper! Speaking of, this cover is trash and whatever credibility Vanity Fair had left, they flushed down the urinal as soon as they made the decision to not put the fake baby from American Sniper on the cover. That fake baby is the only star in Hollywood who really matters.
Also, here’s some pictures of Laura Jeanne Poon, Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones at yesterday’s Oscar nominee luncheon in L.A. Julianne Moore is not on VF’s cover, but I threw in pictures of her, because everybody needs to know that her stylist must be stopped.