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.
Usually Christina Hendricks uses scaffolding, two tire jacks and five rolls of duct tape to hike her magnificent chichis all the way past her face until they’re touching her eyebrows. But at Vanity Fair’s Oscar party last night, her Mount Everest titty balls weren’t suffocating and they weren’t touching God’s feet and hos probably said to her, “So that’s what your face looks like, bitch!”
Christina Hendricks’ chichi domes look magnificent when they’re squeezed up to the roof of heaven or when they look like two extra large mounds of uncooked sourdough cooling on a rack (see: above), but what in Mrs. Roper’s cleaning dress HELL is that on her body?! When I was in the 4th grade, I had a friend whose mom didn’t have money to buy her a Halloween costume, so I helped her make a witch costume using a nun’s gown I wore the year before (yes, I was a nun for Halloween in the 3rd grade, don’t ask how much shit I got for that), a black curtain panel from Ikea and black construction paper. My friend’s costume cost zero dollars, was busted as fuck and was made by two brats whose hands were shaking from eating too much candy and it still looked more luxurious and fashion forward than that shit Christina wore. That dress looks like something Endora would wear to the funeral of a whore she hated. It looks like something from the American Horror Story: Coven collection at Dress Barn.
With all that being said, Christina Hendricks, hausfrau in mourning dress and all, was still the hottest look at that VF party (no, it wasn’t), because mostly everybody else (just Kate Beckinsale) looked like the last place loser at the Miss Bolivia 1993 pageant.
The head whores from the now-shuttered literary journal of integrity The News of the World are currently on trial for hacking into cell phone voicemail boxes to get stories, and one of the reporters, who pleaded guilty and is now a witness for the prosecution, testified about the time they got into Daniel Craig’s voicemail. According to the NYDN, the former reporter Dan Evans testified that in 2005 he got into Daniel Craig’s box (not like that, Dan wishes) and listened to a voicemail from a chick who said, “Hi, it’s me. Cannot speak. I’m at the Groucho (Club) with Jude. I love you.” It was from my home wrecking hero Sienna Miller!
Before The News of the World published the story of Sienna passing her poon to Daniel Craig while she was still with Jude Law and he was with Satsuki Mitchell, Dan was told to cover his tracks. Dan’s bosses told him to make a copy of the tape and drop it in a plain bag before taking it to the reception desk so it’d look like an untraceable anonymous tip. (Side note: Untraceable anonymous tip is a really professional name for a glory hole dick.) The London Standard says that when Jude Law took the stand yesterday, he was asked about fighting with Daniel Craig after he found out that Daniel dipped his dick in Sienna’s layer cake. Jude found out about it when he was at his sister’s wedding and immediately called Daniel up to bitch that fellow man slut out:
He said he immediately rang Craig, who was in Baltimore, to question him about it. “No doubt you expressed your views?” asked defence counsel Timothy Langdale QC. “I did, yes,” Law replied. “Did you make any reference to his then-girlfriend Satsuki Mitchell?” asked the QC, who is representing former NoW editor Andy Coulson.
Law said: “I don’t remember if that was her name, but more than likely yes. We had known each other for many, many years, so the conversation took all sorts of turns.”
Mr Langdale asked: “Were you indicating to him that he ought to tell her about this?” Law replied: “Yes, I think that’s correct, I did.”
My question is, did Sienna hump on Daniel before or after Jude got with the nanny?
Layer Cake came out in 2004 and Jude Law got caught with his dick in the nanny’s cookie jar in 2005, but the Daily Mail says that Sienna boned Daniel Craig to get back at Jude for cheating on her. So we’re really supposed to believe that Sienna and Daniel made it through Layer Cake without bumping wet parts in their trailer and they didn’t bone each other until a year later? That doesn’t make any sense. Whatever, what we do know is that Sienna was jumping from Craig dick to Jude dick and Daniel Craig was jumping from Satsuki coochie to Sienna coochie and Jude Law was jumping on all the coochies. It was a big slut stew. Meanwhile, Satsuki was at home watching the dinner she made for Daniel get colder and colder.
And praise be to Sienna’s vagine! Just when I start to think that it’s done all and seen all, it exceeds my expectations. I just want to lie on a velvet chase with it and hold my bated breath as it slowly tells me the secret to life and shows me its ways.
It seems like just yesterday when the beautiful word “SLUT” was sprayed in graffiti on Sienna Miller’s house and today the words “IT’S A (insert the gender of Sienna’s first baby friend here)!” were sprayed on there after she gave birth to her first kid with that fiancé who sometimes looks like a light weight sumo wrestler competing in the homeless hipster division. It really is the end of a home wrecking era, because Sienna’s bull dozer vagina is temporarily retired now that a baby has passed through it. The pussy that once destroyed lives is now delivering life. As I take a moment of silence, read what UsWeekly has to say about this:
Sienna Miller and her fiance Tom Sturridge welcomed their first child over the weekend in London, a source confirms exclusively to Us Weekly. Details on the baby’s gender, name and weight were not available. The British duo have been dating for over a year and debuted signs of their engagement — Miller’s dazzling diamond engagement ring — in mid-February.
Since there aren’t any details, let me fill that shit in. Sienna and Tom are both dirty boho hippies, so I’m guessing she gave birth in a backyard pond full of rose water while he hollered out some Gaelic birthing chant as he smeared lavender-infused mud all over her tits. Then after their baby was born, they melded their baby with the earth by rolling him or her in a patch of dirt. They threw a floral wreath on their baby’s head, held that baby up to the sun and waited until the wind delivered their baby’s name into their ears. The wind delivered the name Scrags Patchouli, obviously. The end.
The Daily Mail has a picture of Homewrecker Hall of Fame recipient Sienna Miller sipping on what looks like a flute of champagne in Portofino, Italy the other day. It could be a fancy kind of sparkling chamomile tea that calls for an extra fancy glass, but it’s probably carbonated sweet nectar. Sienna is on a “babymoon” with her fiancé Tom Sturridge and one of her friend tells InTouch Weekly (via Celebitchy) that she’s been lubricating her tonsils with wine (GASP!) and champagne (GASP! GASP!).
Sienna’s friend said that it’s not like her unborn baby is going to stumble out of her vagina saying shit like, “Yooooooo knows what yer problems is?!” The friend said that she’s just sipping, “Sienna is European and it’s common there for a pregnant woman to have a glass of wine or champagne. She’d never do anything to harm her unborn baby.”
Is it really just a European thing, though? I thought it was an international thing especially since more and more women are chomping on their placentas after giving birth. And any chef will tell you that meat is most delicious when braised in wine. SO DRINK UP!
On another note, are we really using the phrase “babymoon” now? Why don’t you just gag me with a CROC? It’ll bring the barfs up faster. Not only does “babymoon” sounds like something a prankster baby does, but it also sounds like “Over the Moon’s” equally gross first cousin. Can we not?
On another nother note, what is Tom Sturridge’s ass trying to accomplish with that updon’t? Is he really trying to look like a skinny hipster sumo wrestler? Can he not?
Since today’s theme is hos talking BABIES!!!, here’s home wrecking vanguard Sienna Miller posing with her barely there bump out in British Vogue. Sienna Miller opened up to Vogue to say that she’s closing up about all the details of her pregnancy. Unlike Snooki and Jessica Simpson, Sienna isn’t going to tell you what her pregnancy farts smell like or if she’s having bizarre cravings for strange things like unmarried peen. Sienna ain’t saying shit. Sienna has even vagina swallowed a firewall so that The Sun can’t hack into her uterus (I’m sure they’ve tried). 30-year-old Sienna tells Vogue (via DM):
“I’m feeling fine. It’s all progressing nicely and it’s very exciting. It’s nice to start a new decade.
I’m in my second trimester, so I’m I-can-talk-about-it pregnant, even though I’m under strict instructions not to say anything as it would completely defeat the point of everything I’ve tried to achieve in the last eight years.”
It seems like it wasn’t that long ago when the only thing that could make Sienna Miller shut her mouth was peen attached to a man not wearing a wedding band, and now she’s shutting her lips in the name of privacy. How my favorite man snatcher has grown. It truly is the end of a beautiful home wrecking era. Seeing Sienna hold that memorial wreath over her retired bull dozer vagina has given me the closure I need. Thank you, Sienna.
When Sienna Miller announced that she is turning the motor off on her bull dozer vagina and is temporarily retiring from her position as everyone’s favorite home wrecking hero to get married and have a baby, I didn’t want to believe it. It’s like if somebody told me that Pete Doherty was starting to bathe regularly with actual soap or that Prince Hot Ginge was seen buying a box of Feria for Men (in shade: black leather) for himself. THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.
There are so many more lives that need ruining and so many more houses that need to be torn in half by Sienna’s wrecking ball clit. Sienna Miller would never change teams and move on over to the dark side by becoming one of them (read: married with children), or so I thought. But she has. Anakin Homewrecker has become Darth Mommy and these pictures of her at a W Magazine party in NYC prove this. I don’t think Sienna’s got a gut full of wedding rings she fucked off of married man after married man. I’m pretty sure there’s a baby in there.
It’s as if I’ve seen a picture of Tommy Girl in flats or a fully covered LeAnn Rimes. This is my unicorn sighting.
High Priestess Whitney was right when she preached that the children are our future and now it looks like our future is going to be every shade of ESCANDALOSO, because my homewrecking queen Sienna Miller has got a uterus full of fetus. UsWeekly says that the retired MPV-winning man thief and her boyfriend of a year Tom Sturridge (the fancy Skid Row resident she’s puckering on in the picture above) will be parents to a hipster baby in a few months. If Peaches Geldof getting knocked up wasn’t reason enough to start digging your 2012 underground bunker, then this news will be enough. SHOVELS OUT!
Sienna’s rep hasn’t confirmed any of this, but one of her loud mouth friends told UsWeekly, “They just spent the holidays in Paris together after they announced the news in London. [Their] were not surprised by the news of the pregnancy. They’re really good together.”
That baby is going to be such a damn hipster. It’s going to come out of Sienna Miller’s former bulldozer vagina in a vintage Liz Claiborne cape (True Story: I was in a Salvation Army in Greenpoint and heard some dirty hipster ask if they had any Liz Claiborne brand capes), an American Spirit in its mouth, the scent of patchouli wafting off of it and a monocle over its eye (because it will be a monocle-wearing baby before monocle-wearing babies are the thing). I just hope Sienna teaches her hipster baby everything she knows about relationships. Like age is nothing but a number and a wedding ring is nothing but something that will give your genitals an extra tingle while your married piece fingers you. A wedding ring is sort of like a cock ring for your finger!
But if it’s true that kids turn out the opposite of their parents, then Sienna’s child will probably care about the importance of bathing as much as it cares about respecting the marital vows of others. BOOOOOO!
It’s sort of fitting that Anna Wintour’s head is positioned right over Sienna Miller’s crotch, because I’ve always pictured Sienna’s vagina as a snarling boil with soul-nibbling eyes who growls at anything that doesn’t resemble a stick. No, that dude Sienna Miller is throwing “please pet me” eyes at is not Teen Wolf’s dad. It’s Sienna’s current boyfriend Tom Sturridge who sat with her in Anna Wintour’s box (yes, I see what I did there) at the French Open in Paris yesterday.
Where the hell is an extra-strength detangler and an iron brush when you really need them, because this picture is where Scraggly goes when it needs to find itself. They all look like they call Riff Raff their leader. A mess.
And how is Sienna going to go from Jude Law to a dude who uses Rogaine as a face moisturizer? From one extreme to the next. Well, I guess I’d have hearts in my eyes too for a dude who could exfoliate my taint while he licks on my genitals.