Sarah Jessica Parker
If you walked by the front of Avery Fisher Hall in NYC last night and wondered why hundreds of Harry Potter fangirls were licking the red carpet and scooting their Muggle 'ginas like proud graduates of Toby's School of New Tricks, it's because Tom Felton, Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint nearly melted their nipples off and drops of their DNA splattered all over the place.
NYC is currently trapped in one of Lucifer's wet butt bubbles and the Harry Potter boys were forced to cover most of their body pores in suits from Friar Tux black label collection, so they were pretty much trying to learn how to pant from all of their exposed orifices. But not Emma Watson! Even though Emma looked like a rabid raccoon trying to scurry out of a burlap sack stuck to some opera curtains, she could raise her hand and be sure! And not only was Emma one of the only ones whose body didn't feel like a dirty armpit pad at the end of the night, but she's also been drunk before! FYI:
Here's more from last night's premiere. In order: All those HP chirruns, Alan Rickman, Ugly Betty, SJP with a tiny gondolier, Seth Green with his wife, Mister Jay (wearing the carcass of a spirit animal), Joey Fat One with his family and Matthew Broderick.
When Cheryl Cole landed in L.A. this weekend, she brought with her a teased and sprayed mane of hair that should only be worn by the stars of Valley of the Dolls and Texas child beauty queens whose moms have yet to retire the Revo Styler. Well, Cheryl Cole has infected every hairstylist's teaser brush and created a trend! Looking like the product of a down low love affair between Aslan the Great Lion and a minotaur, Sarah Jessica Parker showed up to the Robin Hood Foundation Benefit in NYC last night with a whole lot of NAY on top of her head.
Normally, I'm into hair that makes a ho look like she's trying to steal Falcon Crest from Jane Wyman, but SJP is not doing it. It looks like a badly glued on wig that's just itching to be turned all the way around. Just think of how many holes in the ozone layer were formed because SJP's stylist (who obviously hates her) wanted to take her to an unholy level of fug. Mission accomplished.
And SJP wasn't the only barnyardigan who should've stayed home last night. Gisele Bundchen nearly broke her cheek bones from posing so hard, but little does she know that a beautiful ostrich creature in a white bra stole the shot from her.
It's one thing for Beyonce to wrap herself in a gown that looks like it was made using the gilded sperm of Lumiere the Candlestick and the dusty ovaries of Babbette the Feather Duster, but it's another to stuff herself so tight that you can't even walk. Like an elephant dick in a guinea pig condom. Whenever Beyonce drags Jay-Z to events like last night's Costume Institute Gala at The Met, he always looks like those dudes you see holding their chick's purses outside of the ladies room with a perma-grimace on their face. And now she does this to him?!
Jay-Z and a helper had to physically help Beyonce up the stairs into the museum. If it was me, I would've knocked that ho to the floor and rolled her ass up the stairs. When we were getting ready to leave, I would've set up bowling pins at the bottom of the stairs, told Beyonce to hold her breath and then rolled her ass down hoping for a strike!
You can't even think about taking a piss in a satin sausage casing like that dress. If you even twitch your labia a bit, all the seams will come apart and you'd be all sorts of naked. It's not like 4 peons (or pee-ons, I should say) can prop Beyonce up on a toilet and guide-eth thee pee-eth stream down below. Beyonce could not pee. Because she could not pee, she could not drink any kind of booze. Because she could not drink one drop of booze while surrounded by a sea of perfumed assholes, she might as well have been in hell. Although, if you're an asshole amongst assholes, you probably don't care. Beyonce waddling around a museum is never the look.
Anyway, here's a bunch of hos who obviously asked themselves "Should I trip her? Should I trip her?" while Beyonce waddled by. In order (after Beyonce and Jay-Z): Gis Bundchen with a granola gayelle, a neon marker named Brooklyn Decker, Dakota Fanning, Elle Fanning, Salma Hayek, JLo with Skeletor, RiRipunzel, Madge, Fishsticks with Lea Michele, Sarah Jessica Parker with an Andy Cohen photo bomb and the First Lady of New York.
Sarah Jessica Parker tells Elle Magazine that like most living things in this world (excluding the ageless Shauna Sand, of course) she's getting old and she can already see herself entering the matinee buffet phase of her life, but she refuses to chop and stretch her face out of fear that she'll look like something you might find in Jocelyn Wildenstein's stables. Yes, getting old is scarier than a Ke$ha video!
Although, it's really not. I can't wait for that shit, because that's when you really don't have to give a fuck about anything. Is that kid kicking the back of your chair making your last nerve splinter? Curse that brat out and tell 'em Santy Claus is made of lies (no, he's not). Use the "BUT I"M OLD" defense in a court of law and you'll get an automatic NOT GUILTY!
When I was at the theater the other day, some pepaw passed out and started snoring so loudly that I'm sure he melted every box of Breathe Right at the Duane Reade down the street. At first I loaded a "STFU" onto the tip of my tongue, but then I realized he's old. I almost wanted to cover him with a chenille throw and have a plate of warm chamomile cookies waiting for him so he has something sweet to nibble on after his nap. See. Getting old is getting RIGHT. I can't wait until my state of mind is permanently set to WHO GIVES A FUCK (no question mark needed).
Anyways, here's a couple of quotes SJP neighed out to Elle:
On meeting her babies squared: "[Meeting them] is hard to describe. Everything is suspended. I can't even tell you what other sounds were in the room. I loved them immediately, but everything--their size, the shape of their heads, the color of their hair, their noses, their eyes--was new to me. They looked surprisingly different from James Wilkie, which I wasn't expecting."
On how her aging face is like something out of Planet Earth: "I don't know what I can do about the aging. Yes, I am aging. Oh my God, I'm aging all the time. It's like those flowers that wilt in front of you in time-lapse films. But what can I possibly do? Look like a lunatic?"
Who needs to go under the knife anyway when you've got a dozen Photoshop tools to erase your wrinkles and make your skin looks like it's manufactured by Rubbermaid. And what did they do to her eyes?! They gave SJP those BLACK SWAN demon eyes. It's making me want to shake her while screaming, "What happened to my sweet girl!!!!?"
The Crystal Enchantress of the Ice Johnny Weir hung up his polar bear stole and his boa made from bedazzled swan feathers for the night to slip into a Hogwarts uniform that puts the HUFF and PUFF in Hufflepuff. Harry Potter's wand will not stop spitting out the glitter once it gets a piece of this. Pee Weir Herman cast a bretha mortis spell (aka the killing these hos spell) at last night's NYC premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Swallows, and then he gave them life again by popping a hip to pose. Everyone was slytherin' in their pants.
And those who had to clean their mess in the bathroom after laying their eyes on Johnny were: Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, DanRad, Matthew Broderick with his son and Voldemort's mistress, Joey Fatone with his daughter, Precious, Tom Felton, Ralph Fineass, Liam Neeson, The First Drunk of New York, Lourdes Leon and Darren Criss.
When I first clicked on this picture, I felt like I was coming home with my arms filled with groceries to find my piece giggling on the sofa with the shifty skank slut whore tramp from next door. Bags dropped, naranjas rolled across the floor and the tea kettle screamed!
I should've seen this coming, because Andy Cohen always has one eye on the camera and the other eye on your man's dick! That lazy eye wants to lay right next to the silver field of dreams on Mah Boo Anderson Cooper's crotch. This is so. That woman behind Andy is probably texting some shit like: "Witnessing an evil act of homowreckery right here!"
Oh, how I just want to mount SJP, signal her to kick Andy out of the way and then throw Mah Boo on back so that the three of us can gallop far far far away!
While I go and sharpen my shank and practice my dance-off moves, look at these pictures of three gays and a little filly at the Diane Von Furstenberg show in NYC last night.
Sarah Jessica Parker's bony claws of death failed to choke out the gigantic nose dingle known as Shrek. SATC2: Horny Mummies in the Desert was expected to take the #1 spot this weekend even though almost every critic Cleveland Steamrolled that bitch, but it came up short behind Shrek.
That other movie about sexy ladies baring their succulent chichis and whipping their weaves in the desert, Princess of Persia, came in third. Here's the Top 5 of the weekend:
1. Shrek Forever After - $43.3 million
2. SATC2 - $32.1 million
3. Prince of Persia - $30.1 million
4. Iron Man 2 - $16 million
5. Robin Hood - $10.3 million
SATC2 is over two hours long so there is no way I'm going to sign up for that KY and Lanacane party. I would leave the theater with blood shot eyes, cotton mouth and a newfound hate for myself. I can achieve that feeling for free by masturbating in front of a mirror. Besides, why bother seeing that cinematic yeast infection when you can stay at home and read the reviews instead.
Lindy West's review should be stamped onto every SATC2 poster as a warning. Here's a taste from The Stranger:
SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human—working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it's my job—and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. It is 146 minutes long, which means that I entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache. This is an entirely inappropriate length for what is essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls.
This is exactly why there should be a SATC3. That shit unleashes everyone's inner cunt. It makes us all unite in cuntness! More! More! More!
Here's SJP arriving in Tokyo yesterday, and at the SATC2 photo call with Mrs. Rojo, Kim Cattrall and that other one.
Please let Jesus be a Flowbee in the hands of Rojo Caliente, because those pieces of ginger polyester in Cynthia Nixon's hair are making me want to switch religions. Those kids behind Mrs. Rojo are trying not to laugh out loud, because they know if they do a Home Depot will drop on top of them. That is also why I'm trying to be as nice as possible to Mrs. Rojo, but it's the most difficult thing I've ever done (hit me with a "dramatic faggotry" stamp) in my life!!!!!
Why did Cynthia have to leave her hotel looking she was just rejected from a casting call for The Real Housewives of Orange County? That vein on her forehead is trying to pop itself so it can bleed all over that low-budget clip-on mess. Hopefully, Rojo's love volcano will eat those extensions up when Cynthia is kissing on it later tonight. That shit needs to be sacrificed.
On a positive note, at least the giant black cloud (aka the reviews for SATC2) hovering over My Little Pony Parker's head took a little attention off of Cynthia's tragic situation.
Here's more pictures from today's Sixty and the City 2 premiere in London.
Liza Minnelli has a pair of priceless eyebrows that make me want to lounge on them while smoking skinny cigars and mouthing the words to a Judy Garland song, so she can pretty much do no wrong. BUT I cannot ignore the full-blown fuggery she wrapped herself in last night for the Sixty in the City 2 premiere in New York City. Bitch. What.
Liza looks like a honey glazed ham wrapped in an oven bag and ready for roasting! Just sprinkle some pineapple rings and cloves on her ass. And I'd never thought I'd ever write this sentence, but what in the name of David Gest's cunt plug is going on with her chichi area? Did Phoebe Price's chicken cutlets hug on to Liza's titties so that they could get their picture taken at the SATC2 premiere? If so, those bitches are good.
The rest of the hos at last night's premiere were almost as messy as Liza's Party City ensemble. In order: Suzanne Somers, Johnny Weir (still in 1960s serious lesbian wear), Mrs. Rojo, Kristin Davis, JLove, Dayglo My Little Pony, Kim Cattrall, Chaz Bono's puckering no-no, and Bo Derek.
Once again, the marketing team behind Sex and the City 2: Cougar Mummies Gone Wild have taken Photoshoppery to extreme levels with their latest poster. Originally, the other hos were supposed to pose for the poster as well, but they ran for the nearest safe house after staring into the "soul devouring" demonic alien eyes on Sarah Jessica Parker's face. RELEASE THE KRAKEN on this demon!
And what is with all that sparkly sand? Did Edward Cullen fart in the desert again?
via Marie Claire