John Travolta

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.

I see that thick folder with John Travolta's name on it. It probably has more pictures of hard dick than the folder on my desktop labeled, "more pictures of hard dick, part 3."

The Hollywood Reporter has been posting excerpts from Lawrence Wright's book about Scientology called Going Clear and yesterday they shared details about John Travolta's fucked up relationship with the Cult of L. Ron Hubbard. John joined Scientology after actress Joan Prather told him about it while on the set of some crap movie called The Devil's Rain in Mexico. John started taking classes at Scientology's Celebrity Centre and was hooked after he believed that they helped him get his breakout role on Welcome Back, Kotter:

Travolta began taking the Hubbard Qualified Scientologist Course at the Celebrity Centre with about 150 other students. He confided to the teacher, Sandy Kent, that he was about to audition for a television show, Welcome Back, Kotter. Kent instructed everyone to point in the direction of ABC Studios and telepathically communicate the instruction: “We want John Travolta for the part.” At the next meeting, Travolta revealed he had gotten the role of Vinnie Barbarino -- the part that would soon make him famous. “My career immediately took off,” Travolta boasted in a Church publication. “Scientology put me in the big time.

Scientology gave John a Sea Org handler and it was the handler's job to keep him in check, manage his relationship with his fans and she even had to get Paramount to buy a large block of Scientology audits for his birthday. John's handler goes on to say that she became very close to him, but Scientology tore them apart and later manipulated her into luring him back to the cult after they felt like he was straying away. She eventually left Scientology and became a "Suppressive Person" after they kept her baby from her and punished her by throwing her in a disciplinary program. The entire excerpt is as long as Chris Brown's pencil dick, but it's a must-read. It reads like a scary novella as written by Stephen King.

Anyway, the best part of the excerpt is that the name of John Travola's former Scientology handler is: SPANKY TAYLOR! SPANKY TAYLOR! Her real name is Sylvia Taylor, but everyone calls her Spanky.

John Travolta would have a handler named Spanky Taylor. Spanky Taylor sounds like a sex act involving whips and anus clamps. It's just a perfect name. John Travolta's world would totally be a different place if he had stayed friends with Spanky Taylor. SPANKY TAYLOR!

"You might like it" isn't only the line that John Travolta says after he raises his ass up in the air and rubs his Scientolohole against a massage therapist's crotch. It's also the name of his new Christmas song with Olivia Newton-John. The cover of John and ONJ's holiday album is what you would see if you put a magnifying glass up to a unicorn's fart bubble after it ate all of the Christmas candy, and the video for their first (and last) single is just as special.

In the video that costs less than the shoe polish John Travolta smears all over his head every morning, JT and ONJ two-step, hug and drive together in Ocala, FL. Everything about this gift from Baby Xenu is beautiful from the hairy skid mark on JT's chin to ONJ's face looking like an inside/out rubber cat mask to the chain wallet to the random hugging of policemen to ONJ driving on the sidewalk and waving at nobody.

Yes, this is what has become of Danny and Sandy and I might LOVE it!

Usually, John Travolta's the one who needs a healer to massage the pain away (example: "I've got an ailment in my anus. Can you knead it out?" - John Travolta), but he recently used his Scientology powers to magically heal a car crash victim's broken ankle.

John tells the Scientology publication Celebrity Magazine (via Celebuzz) that when he was in Shanghai for some work stuff, he met a man who was suffering from ankle pain and he rebuked the OWWWs from the dude's body using a technique called an "assist." The name of a Scientology healing technique would have the word "ASS" in it. John said this craziness:

“I was in Shanghai recently at a work event and the Master of Ceremonies’ best friend had recently gotten into a car wreck. He had broken his ankle and was in constant pain. I asked him permission to do some Scientology assists and he said, ‘Okay sure’. People were standing around watching as I did them. You could actually see him confronting the pain and after a while he looked up at me and said ‘I feel better’ so I said ‘Okay end of assist.’ He had gotten noticeably better and I was chomping at the bit for more.”

Celebuzz says that according to the Scientology handbook, an assist is "a process whereby a Scientologist helps an individual to heal himself — or to be healed by another agency — by removing his or her reasons for precipitating and prolonging his condition and lessening their predisposition to further injure themselves or remain in an intolerable condition."

What a fancy and technical explanation! Let me put it into words we can all understand. Basically, during this particular Scientology assist, John Travolta pressed his fingers and the tip of his tongue on specific pressure points on the man's dick. In between pressing his tongue against pressure points on the man's peen, John told him to channel that pain from his ankle up into his nutsack. As John continued to rub those pressure points, he told the man to release that pain out of his dick hole. John rubbed harder and faster while shouting, "Shoot that pain paint, good man! Let it out!" Then after the man released the pain, John said, "End of assist."

And no, I didn't just write Scientology gay porn starring John Travolta. I wrote about a medical procedure. Get your brain out of the gutter. But seriously, that man only said he felt better, because he wanted John Travolta to get away from him.

And every time you give a hand job, you need to stand back up and say, "End of assist." That's a good line!

Who knew that all this time Kristie "Third Wheel" Alley has been waiting in the wings, wishing for the day when John Travolta would finally shave Kelly Preston off of his face and pick her as his new beard. On tonight's 20/20 (via Radar), Kirstie tells Barbara Walters that contrary to popular belief, Krispy Kreme isn't the true love of her life, John Travolta is.

Kirstie says that she fell seriously in love with John while shooting the first Look Who's Talking movie and she never tried to beard him, because she was married at the time to Parker Stevenson. Kirstie says that she wanted to leave Parker and run away with John, but she resisted the urge. In between shooting the second Look Who's Talking movie and the third one, John married his lifelong beard Kelly Preston. Kirstie still considers John the love of her life, but she's happy to be his main fruit fly and cherishes all the time they spend together (aka having a kiki in the Scientology bath house.)

Poor Kirstie. Why isn't Kirstie the one on People Magazine talking about her "miracle baby"? Why isn't Kirstie the one giving John choreographed kisses on the red carpet? Why isn't Kirstie the one holding hands with John in staged photo-ops? Why is it that bitch Kelly Preston? Why didn't John choose her? Oh, Kirstie, always the fag hag, never the beard.

I don't mean to disrespect Kelly Preston's bearding skills, because she is a world-class beard, but Kirstie Alley would've been better. Kirstie would've gladly and loudly lied to everyone about how she gets it on with John all the time and he really knows how to work that dick on her cooch like a real heterosexual. Kirstie would've laid it on extra thick during staged public displays of affection on the red carpet. And every time John came home crying because another massage therapist ran away from his hungry, hungry b-hole, Kirstie would've made him feel better by making him a big pot of cake batter soup with cookie dough bits in it. Then Kirstie would've put on Auntie Mame and let John recite all of Rosalind Russell's lines. She'd gladly take Vera's lines. That's a beard to the end right there. Oh well, it's John Travolta's loss!

Pour me a cup of hot cocoa, because I butt birthed out a peppermint-flavored marshmallow just from looking at this cover of Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta's new holiday album of music. This is what it would look like if the meaning of plastic surgery and the meaning of gay became conjoined twins. Everything about this piece of art is a work of true beauty and let's analyze it all:

1. The Christmas tree in the background! That tree dimmed its lights, because it wanted to give all the attention to the sparkly twinkles in John and Olivia's eyes that only show up when they join fabulous forces by touching heads.

2. The teacups, which are pissed off, because they aren't the most precious things in this picture.

3. Olivia's face, which has gone from looking like that of a human's to that of a plastic Thundercat's.

4. The thing on John Travolta's head, which has replaced the pink fairy princess tiara as the gayest headpiece in the world. They must've shot this picture in the middle of a freezer, because I can't believe that Sharpie puddle on John's head isn't melting from the heat he and Olivia are making. I've seen cartoon hair that looks more life-like and real than John's spray-on helmet. How many Caltrans workers did it take to paint that pristine hairline? That hairline might be the straightest thing about John.

AND NineMSN says that my new favorite Christmas album feature a guest spot by BARBARA STREISAND! I love it when the punchlines punch themselves.

(Thanks to everybody who sent this in) 

Sometimes I really have to slow clap for Kelly Preston's legendary and iconic beard game, because she's always 100% loyal and doesn't give a shit while giving a shit at the same time. Case in point: John Travolta and Kelly followed the rainbow which led them to gay mecca of the Mediterranean that is Mykonos. Fun fact: "Mykonos" is Greek for "poke me in the no-no." Hide yo male massage therapists, Mykonos.

Radar has a few pictures of John and Kelly smiling and waving at the cameras as they stroll through the gayest island in the Mediterranean. (Okay, it's not totally gay, but it's pretty gay. It's true that if you fart in Mykonos. Your farts will smell like the color of the rainbow.) I love the pictures, because there's John and Kelly smiling at everyone while I'm sure a bunch of gay boys hehehehehe into their cocktails off camera.

Either John and Kelly have the IQ of his day wig or they're geniuses. I mean, trying to kill the gay rumors by vacationing on the one of the gayest places on earth? I hope John and Kelly keep this "straight love in gay places" theme going, because I really want to see them renew their vows at the White Party in Palm Springs.

"Hand me the foreskin sweat-flavored lip gloss. Johnny has to do this shit with FEELING!" is probably the line Kelly Preston spit at her Scientology-appointed handler in the limo minutes before she did this with John Travolta on the red carpet at the L.A. premiere of his movie Savages last night. John and Kelly tried to make the public forget about all the tales of his tingling, man-hungry Scientolohole by putting on a good-old fashioned, manufactured public display of ewwwffection show in front of the cameras. It didn't work. This is about as natural as the beaver's ass on John's head.

Just yesterday, yet another dude dropped a sexual harassment lawsuit on John Travolta's gitchi gitchi ya ya anus, so I understand why John and Kelly's publicist choreographed this stunt, but they should've rehearsed more. These pictures are where awkward goes to feel more awkward. John is trying to use his Scientology training to imagine Kelly Preston's lips as a succulent, twitchy man hole and she knows this, which is why her eye is saying "Please tell me this is almost over...." to the photographer.

Hugh Jackman and his wife Deborra-Lee Furness need to teach a class at the Learning Annex on How To Successfully Shoot Down The Gay Rumors with Some Public Beard Love, because those two know how to do it without overdoing it.

On a positive note, at least this gives Tommy Girl and the boys at the Scientology bath house something to giggle about as they do themselves in the butt with e-meter cans.

What I mean by that is that somebody should've snatched that carpet sample off of his head, because it is dreadful. Anyway, for the first time since everybody learned about the terrifying adventures of John Travolta's man finger-eating whirlpool anus, he put on a brave wig and came out (not like that) to honor Shirley MacLaine last night. No, John wasn't presenting Shirley with the Sally's Beauty Supply Lifetime Achievement Award in Lace Front-Wearing. Shirley was the recipient of the AFI Life Achievement Award and John was there to honor her. I really don't know who's wig game is worse: Shirley or John's. Shirley's looks like it's slowly shifting off of her head and John's wig is laid like a sod square.

The likes of Meryl Streep, Dakota Fanning, Mena Suvari, Melanie Griffith and Jennifer Aniston thought to themselves, "That is such a realistic wax figure of a Vulcan Dracula" as John Travolta spit out nice words about Shirley. I appreciate that John is showing us what Eddie Munster would look like if he grew into his widow's peak, but damn. Bitch needs to pull out his payroll sheet and erase the name of the ho who keeps buying his wigs at Leonard Nimoy's yard sale.

And if you were about to announce the countdown for the inevitable "Angie's fame whoring leg vs. Aniston's fame whoring leg" battle, save your bref.

Before John Travolta hired Kelly Preston as his full-time face merkin and terrorized massage therapists with his gaping, powderless donut hole, he rode on the wings of butt sex love with his pilot Doug Gotterba. That's what John's former secretary, Joan Edwards (read that as John Edwards or Joan Holloway if you this story is already bland for you), and Doug's ex-boyfriend, Robert Britz, tells The National Enquirer (via Radar). They both say that shortly after Doug started working for John in 1981, the two started doing it on the down low. How many times do you think they did it in the cockpit and how many times do you think John asked Doug, "Do you want to cock my pit?"

Joan Edwards, who worked for John from 1978 to 1994, says that she's always known John likes to gobble peen with his b-hole and she never cared. After Doug became part of John's staff, he and Joan hit it off. Doug confessed to Joan that he was sexing on John regularly. Robert Britz, who dated Doug after John, tells the Enquirer that Doug and John's relationship wasn't exactly the epitome of romance. It all started, because John kept grabbing at Doug's crotch. Doug finally gave in, because the job was "lucrative" (translation: bitch got paid). Robert also says that he watched a video of Doug and Robert hanging out topless in a hotel room together:

"I personally saw about two minutes of Doug's home video showing John Travolta sitting at the end of a bed with his shirt off. There were plates of food in front of him. The video appeared to be shot in a hotel room. Doug made it clear that it was very lucrative for him to be what he called John's 'personal right hand man' and homosexual partner."

Just like how most love stories of our time end, Doug stopped fucking John, because he suddenly became grossed out by John's hairy bear body.

All of these gay sex stories about John Travolta pretty much have the same theme. John is always going after dudes who have no interest in diving deep into his sugar walls. The ones that do it, do it for the cash and not because they want to. Humping on a dude who is rolling his eyes, playing Sudoku on his phone and cutting off his cuticles with a tiny pair of scissors doesn't sound like a good time to me. "That's funny should say that because...." - my last boyfriend