Above is the trailer for August: Osage County, which George Clooney isn't in, but he's one of the producers and his name comes up first, so he's obviously the MOST IMPORTANT thing about this movie. I never saw or read the play, so I don't know for sure, but isn't it supposed to be dark and cynical and heartbreaking and shit? This looks like a semi-uplifting family comedy that ends with everybody skipping through the fields while a Sheryl Crow song plays. Then during the credits, they'll show bloopers. But DAMN at Ewan McGregor's hotness. Who knew that when you put a beard on him and drop in the south, he can make my nipples twitch.
Below is the trailer for Gravity, which George Clooney is in for second. This is the movie that Alfonso Cuarón has tried to make forever. Angie Jolie was going to do it, then she passed, then they begged her again, then she passed again, then they almost got Natalie Portman, then Natalie Portman passed and then they finally got Sandra Bullock. Sandra and George play two astronauts who go to space together. One second they're like, "Oooh, everything's so pretty," and then the next second they're like, "Aaaaaah, we're dying!" Their space shuttle blows up and Sandra goes drifting into space by herself. It's like 127 Hours and Open Water in SPACE!
And some people got really nervous and had to reach for the oxygen mask while watching this, but I just wondered if Sandra Bullock put on an extra pair of space diapers underneath her suit. Because the only thing worse than floating aimlessly through space is floating aimlessly through space in a suit full of caca.
People's Sexiest Potato Alive 2012 Channing Tatum tells The Sun that his dream man is People's Sexiest Man Alive 1997/2006 George Clooney and that he wants to make out with George's butt all night long. Whenever Channing is in a room with George, everybody else disappears, his body turns into a giant boner and all he sees is George's perfect face. Channing would leave his knocked up wife Jenna Dananahwatever and his unborn baby for George. A stream of drool trickled out of Channing's mouth when he said this:
“I’ve spent time with George Clooney and he’s the most interesting man on the planet. He can do it all. I guess what I’m saying is I’d have sex with him.”
That's it? Channing Tatum can't say that he'd bone George Clooney and leave out the most important details. Would they make out or just get right to it? Would they 69 or 88 or both? Would Channing make George slap him in the face with his peen? These are the details everybody (aka just me) wants to know. But more importantly, who'd be the top and who'd be the bottom?
I've seen Channing Tatum's body rolls in that Magic Mike shit, so I'd say he's the top. Then again, he seems like the sort of dude you'd meet at a bar, peg as a total top, but then when you get to his apartment and make out for a bit, he excuses himself to freshen up in the bathroom. That totally means he's going to clean his butt out with a balloon enema. BOTTOM!
Then there's George. That one's easy. George looks like he loves it most when his ass is up in the air and his teeth are biting down on a pillow. POWER BOTTOM!
So what I'm saying is that they'd totally use a double-sided dildo.
And The Sun never lies to us! How will we ever trust them again? Forget everything I said about how Stacy Keibler has retired from being George Clooney's award season escort and is on the lookout for another piece to turn into a silent arm accessory who will burn the word "marriage" from her vocabulary. George and Stacy proved that they're still together by holding hands while going to dinner with Matt Damon in Berlin last night.
George knows that nothing goes with his stache like a glowing beard. And Stacy has the same kind of glow every ho has when she finds out that her option was finally picked up again. Stacy will get to ride that stache again.
And Stacy went to the trouble of calling the paps to kill the break-up rumors with a hand-holding photo-op, and George couldn't put on a manufactured smile?! He's looking like Grumpy Cat and shit. So ungrateful.
Everybody has been saying for a while now that the expiration date on Stacy Keibler's ass is coming up and George Clooney is getting ready to trade her in for a new model. The Sun says Stacy's expiration date has already come and gone, and after 20 months (which is 500 years in Clooney time) of being George Clooney's award show accessory, she's out!
Some source says that they ended things, because George doesn't want a wedding ring on his finger and he already has one incoherent mess slobbering all over his shoulder (see: a stoned Brad Pitt), so he doesn't want another one. Stacy eventually wants those things, so they ended their contract. As part of Stacy's severance package, he gave her an apartment and some jewelry.
You know, some people say that if you want to get married and have kids you shouldn't screw around with George Clooney. But I say that if you want to get married and you want kids AND you want a brand new condo, you should screw around with George Clooney. Being George Clooney's escort of the moment is easy. You wear designer gowns, you drink a bunch of free booze at fancy parties and every now and again you get to make out with a topless Cindy Crawford on the deck of a yacht while George and Rande Gerber are downstairs smoking cigars (take that as code for something if you want).
Once you get tired of that, you cash in. When you and George are sitting in the smoking room of his Italian villa and he's reading the newspaper, all you have to do is say, "So I'm thinking of going off the pi....." You'll look over and all you'll see is a newspaper floating in the air and a bunch of smoke below it, because George busted out of there before you could spit out the two Ls. Then a moving truck with all of your shit in it will pull up to the driveway and his lawyer will make you sign a confidentiality agreement in exchange for keys to your new condo and a key to the bank lock box with a bunch of jooree in it. You'll have a condo for your baby to live in and you can sell all that jooree to buy diapers. You can have it all! It beats going to college!
Stacy Keibler already achieved what most of George Clooney's past red carpet escorts haven't: she made it past more than one award season. But UsWeekly says that Stacy isn't going to beat her own record, because she's not going to make it to another award season. George isn't planning on renewing her contract and he's having a stone slab with her name on it made for the Memory Walk of Past Beards in the backyard of his Italian villa.
A source tells UsWeekly that George and Stacy are just realizing that their 18 year age difference is screwing with their relationship. 51-year-old George wants to sit on his sex ramp at home and sip on a beer while softly stroking the hair of his Brad Pitt Real Doll. 33-year-old Stacy wants to go out and party and shit. The source also says that George isn't into Stacy's friends, so the end is near. Pour one out for Stacy!
This was about as expected as me drunkenly passing out into a plate of Girl Scout cookie crumbs while watching an episode of Income Property last night, but I thought that Stacy might make it to another award season. As far as my ass knows, Stacy didn't even say the M (for marriage) word! Stacy probably programmed herself to never say that word and now she'll never be able to say it. She's probably allergic to it. If a dude ever tries to propose to her, she'll start getting the shakes when he slips out the M word. Just one of the many side effects of PCD (post Clooney disorder).
And more importantly, since Clooney is obviously in the mood for dumping beards, can he please dump that beard on his face too? You ain't Topol, bitch.
Here's Stacy at the launch of Joe Fresh for JcPenney in L.A. last night.
You know it's a special occasion when John Travolta pulls out his favorite wig. Since John Travolta is always hijacking the iPod in the Scientology's bath house to play Rodgers & Hammerstein's greatest hits, the producers of the Oscars asked him to introduce the tribute to movie musicals last night. Everybody's talking about how John Travolta can't pronounce Les Miserables (Note: Please, he mispronounced that shit on purpose to make himself look straighter), but everybody should be talking about the glorious beast on his head. Yes, every Papillon is throwing a shank eye at Travolta since he stole their signature hairstyle, but they have to admit that his center part is immaculate. I'm sure Moses himself parted Travolta's wig. I'm not talking about Moses from the bible, I'm talking about Moses the resident wig master at the Scientology beauty salon.
Travolta didn't only work a stunning lace front, but he also worked a hot velcro patch on his chin. When you tea bag Travolta, you can exfoliate your taint on his hot velcro patch at the same time.
Here's a few more pictures of Travolta with Kelly Preston last night and since we're on the subject of lush beards, let's pay tribute to some of the best ones last night. In order: Travolta with Kelly Preston, George Clooney with Stacy Keibler, Hugh Jackmeoff with Deborra-Lee Furness, Justin Theroux with Jennifer Aniston, Jean Dujardin and Ben Affleck with Jennifer Garner.
File this under: Some Unprecedented Shit!
Usually when awards season ends, George Clooney gently puts a pink slip in his leased piece's hand, gives her the "What's in your backpack speech?" speech from Up In The Air and then tells her to leave her keys with the office manager. But he didn't do that to Stacy Keibler after last year's awards season ended and she even stuck around all through 2012. George's family and friends even learned Stacy's first AND last name. They never do that. Stacy not only sashayed through 2012 without getting fired by George, but she's also going to be his walking accessory during this awards season too.
As Sarah Larson (aka my favorite member of the Cloon Poon Club) let a drunk frat boy do orange Jell-O shots off of her stomach at a Golden Globes viewing party in the back room of Dave & Busters in the San Fernando Valley, Stacy posed next to George Clooney on the red carpet last night. Bitches had to pull out their eyeballs, dip them in Windex and put them back on, because they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Even Julianna Marguiles seemed taken aback over the fact that George hired Stacy for another year (or maybe Julianna just had gas, that's probably it).
Stacy achieved the impossible. She won the Hunger Games of trophy girlfriends two years in a row. Guinness Book of World Records needs to pick up a phone and call Stacy, because bitch is making history.
While ev.ree.bud.ee is using their bandwidth on ho collector George Clooney and Stacy Keibler, I'm sitting here wondering why all the attention is not going to the real and most important star of Saturday night's Carousel of Hope Ball: JOAN VAN ARK!
Stacy Keibler might have a team of stylists paid for by George who put her body in the finest (and ugliest) designer gown and she might have a team of hair people paid for by George (Note: In case you haven't noticed, "Paid for By George" is the current tagline for Stacy's life) who use the finest products to style her hair into that of a 60-something socialite circa 1968, but she doesn't look 1/100th as glamorous as Joan Van Ark does and Joan does it all herself!
Yes, Joan picked out that white wedding dress herself at a David's Bridal clearance sale and then dyed it the color of the tears her haters cry out when they see her looking more beautiful than them. Yes, Joan torched her own brows so they look like two strips of delicious creme brulee. Yes, Joan sandpainted her own face. Joan did it all herself. It's times that like this when I'm sad to live in a world where Stacy Keibler's basic ass is getting more attention than the goddess that is Joan Van Ark. This world ain't right.
Oh, and because some of you ain't right, I also threw in pictures of Stacy with George Clooney (aka the man slut carousel of hos) at the Carousel of Hope Ball in Beverly Hills.
Thank you to the paparazzo who showed us that Stacy Keibler and George Clooney look kind of cute when he casually whispers in her ear, "What's your name again, toots? One of those tricks with a mic might ask me."
The U.S. unemployment rate did not rise by 0.000001% today, because Stacy Keibler still has a job. At last night's premiere of Argo in Beverly Hills, Stacy and George answered to those pink slip rumors the only way they know how: with a completely natural love party on the red carpet. You can tell that George still has love for Stacy, because he's barely even looking at her! This makes me feel things, because it's like looking at most of my past dates. "I just bought you a slice of pizza and you want me to make eye contact with you too? DAMN. What's next? You're going to whine about how I don't completely stop the car when I push you out the door while dropping you off. Ungrateful!"
George is probably keeping Stacy around for another awards season, because he realized that he's too old for this shit. And by "this shit," I mean training another award show escort on how to Magic Erase the word "marriage" from her vocabulary and how to always stand to his right, because his left side is his magic side. I, for one, am glad George is not trading this trick in for a newer trick, because learning a new name is exhausting for all of us.
And speaking of having the chemistry of an urethra wart and tap water, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck were also there last night!
Above is George Clooney making the same "Take your final bow, ho, because the curtain's coming down" pose he will make when he officially dumps Stacy Keibler any day now. Last month, George Clooney's rep let out a bunch of no no nos on the rumor that a bunch of workers barged into Stacy's bedroom at his Italian villa, picked her up, threw her into one of those portable moving PODS and shipped her ass back to Los Angeles. But George's rep could've just been pulling our dicks (which would be SHOCKING since publicists never do that), because the NYDN says that Stacy is just days away from waking up to find a pink slip on the pillow next to her.
A source type says that Stacy still shows up to events, but she keeps her lips shut about all things Clooney and she constantly checks her phone to see if he's texted or called her. Stacy's got the nervous shakes most bitches get when they know they're about to get dumped. The source put it like this:
“They’re barely talking. She is worried that he may break up with her any day now. George is being really distant and pulling away from her. She wakes up every morning and doesn’t know what’s going to happen.”
Now I know how a carton of milk feels when I open up the refrigerator door and peek at its expiration date.
Stacy should've seen this coming. Just a few weeks ago she was trying on engagement rings. ENGAGEMENT RINGS! Nothing breaks George Clooney's boner like the m word, engagement rings and going straight to voicemail when he calls his soulmate Brad Pitt. When you're humping on George Clooney full-time and you do anything wedding related, you should know that on the next Friday morning (they always fire you on a Friday morning), you'll be called into his office manager's cubicle and told that it's just not working out. You'll have to hand over the copy of the key he gave you to his dildo closet and you'll be given a fair severance package before the office manager hands you a Kleenex, because your chocha will cry thinking about how the next dick it touches might belong to Steve-O.