Panty Creamer of the Day

What better way is there to enjoy your Easter dinner of a Cadbury Creme Egg Sandwich and a pitcher of Peeps-tinis than with these pictures of the most beautiful princess in the Disney kingdom Zac Efron fapping to a glass of orange juice on the balcony of his hotel in Sydney? (Nothing turns Zac on like a whole lot of Vitamin C.) You know, Zac Efron was always like a sugar-free Twinkie to me and he's never done anything for me, but these pictures might be a game changer. When did Zac Efron drop his bronzer stick and summon the hotness like this?

And for those you screaming at Zac that he's looking like a fool with his pants on the ground and needs to pull that shit over his "made to bottom" ass, he didn't listen to you, but he did something (NSFW-ish) better. Happy resurrection of Jesus, indeed!

I was in the middle of putting together an Academy of Country Music Awards post when, like a ouija board whose sole job is to direct me to pleasures, my mouse moved my hand to the only pictures from the ACMs any of us need today. Who cares about bland, unflavored gelatin bitches like Taylor Squint and Carrie Underwears when the real loin-quiverers at last night's show were: Wayne Newton and Carrot Top! Your eyes are saying NO and your weak stomach is saying WHY?, but I know your nipples are saying YES!

The supervisor of the ACM seat fillers couldn't even tell you why Fig Newton and Carrot Bottom were there last night and truthfully, I don't need to know. I'm just happy that we're all starting this week right with pictures of Wayne looking like his face is eating his eyes and Carrot looking like an over-inflated Jackie Stallone blow-up doll.

First, I get Betty Draper in a fat suit and now I'm getting Wayne Newton looking like a Wayne Newton wax figure made from a Kim Jong-Il clay statue, leftover skin from Liza Minnelli's last face lift and the eyes from a taxidermied raccoon? The only way this week could be better is if Frito Lay announces the triumphant return of Ranch Fritos!

I really can't read a book (you can stop right there and that statement will till be 95% correct) unless its cover is splattered in leopard print and the words "Jackie" and "Collins" are somewhere on it, but my eyes ate up that Hunger Games shit like I was John Travolta and it was a Dominican man ass. There's not even any sex in that crap! If the first five pages of a book don't talk about "drops of sweat trickling down his plump nipples," I usually throw it in the recycling bin, but I got through the Hunger Games in record time.

Anyway, Lenny Kravitz plays Cinna in the movie and I never pictured him as that character. I pictured a cross between Mondo from Project Runway and the Filipino Power Ranger with a touch of Wilson Cruz. I watched some clip of Lenny in action last night and I still wasn't convinced. But if there's one thing that can convince me, it's Lenny flashing his shaved nipples over a skillet of scrambled eggs in Interview Magazine. You can't ever accuse me of not being easy.

If you're one of the lucky ones who missed the Oscars and want a full-on recap, just pour a glass of lukewarm tap water into a paper bowl full of instant oatmeal and watch as it slowly slowly slowly cooks, because that's about as exciting as the boring mess some of us sat through last night. Everybody kept saying that last night's show was like Werther's Original night in the rec room of a Boca retirement home since it felt like a moth ball air kiss from the Academy to the olds, but saying that is an insult to memaws and papaws. The olds didn't like that shit either. Trust. The olds thought they were getting a dancing Billy Crystal, but because he's fucked with his face so much they got a dancing mummified Kim Jong-Il instead. Most of the olds probably took off their teefs and went to bed before Best Supporting Whatever was passed out.

But besides Meryl Streep's speech, there was a bright spot among the bleakness. It came when Jean Dujardin wiped the permanent smugness off of George Clooney's face by winning Best Actor. Then Jean Dujardin kept the tingles coming by face posing for his life in the press room with Meryl Streep. Jean Dujardin is damn fucking charming. He's like a skinny Gaston from Beauty and the Beast without the doucheness. Sometimes his face looks like he's starring in a toothpaste commercial from the 50s and other times it looks like he's watching two unicorn babies slide down a complete double rainbow in the distance. Jean's face is always set to magic.

Looking at him holding onto that Oscar trophy makes me think that he probably gives the most charming handjobs ever. I bet he smiles that twinkly smile the entire time and gives you an extra twitch in your crotch when he raises his eyebrow at you. Normally, I'd think that smiling while cumming is totally creepy, but it isn't when you do it with smile master Jean Dujardin. It's impossible to not feel happy inside when you're staring at a French man whose smile makes you hear cartoon birds singing and shit.

Giving locked up wise guys in prison a reason to buy government-made lube at the commissary, Renee Graziano of Mob Wives showed off her bikini body for the paps during a vacation in Hollywood, FL with her son. This is the same bikini body that almost put two giant black Xes over Renee's eyes. Bitch almost died for that succulent uncooked ham body.

During the first or second episode of the new season, Renee got her ass lifted and while she was in the recovery room, she sat straight up really fast, splitting the stitches in her back. This ho's back split open and she was in the hospital for weeks. I know, for being built like a cement truck, Renee is so delicate. Big Ang splits her fat slug lips daily when she eats a pygmy goat whole and she just fixes her shit up with Gorilla Glue and a nail gun.

I'm going to keep my thoughts about this Tasmanian Devil's Renee's bikini body to myself, because this bitch could easily shove me down a garbage disposal or knock my teefs into my froat just by flinching at me. Believe it or not, shitting my own teeth out does not sound like a good time to me.

I don't watch Vampire Diaries, because there's only so many vampire shows I need in my life and True Blood automatically wins out since it has a whole lot of ASkars nalgas, Joe Man Jello nipples and tang from Lafayette in it. But what I do need more in my life is almost naked pieces on the cover of magazines and Entertainment Weekly gave me that this week with an issue completely devoted to a shirtless Paul Wesley, a shirtless Ian Somerhalder....and that girl in the middle.

You can almost fap to the sexual tension on this cover. Just look at that Paul Wesley, staring deep into Ian Somerhalder's adam's apple like he wants to suck the core out of it. I see how Paul's hand has temporarily made a stop on Nina Dobrev's stomach before eventually making its way to Somerhalderville. I see how Ian is touching Nina's face only so his elbow can hover near Paul's fingers and feel the heat. (Yes, I write a lot of low-grade soft core in my spare time.) Nina needs to quietly slip out, tip toe to the kitchen and make us all popcorn so we can lounge on the bench in front of the bed and enjoy the show.

ONTD user enael read everybody's minds and really made this cover (and fuck parts) pucker into tomorrow:

Now this shit is officially gold certified fap-worthy. I'd print it out, frame it with the gayed up True Blood Rolling Stone cover and hang both of them in front of my toilet, but fapping while making a caca is even too gross for me.

The rest of the pictures in EW are kind of hilarious. That Paul dude is Zoolandering for his life and most of these look like publicity stills a Straight Guys for Gay Eyes porn.

Just like straight unicorns, Courtney Love's sanity and Kathy Griffin's belly button, Jude Law's natural hairline hasn't been seen in a long time and many of us were starting to believe it was just a figment of our imagination. Jude Law has been covering up his bat ears hairline with hats, plugs and Sienna Miller's (NSFW) unused vagine wiglet for years. But you can cancel that Amber Alert for his natural hairline, because he proudly brought it out at last night's Paris premiere of Sherlock Holmes 2. Jude Law stepped in front of the cameras and bravely said, "My name is Jude Law and the front of my hair looks like the crotch of a 70s lady porn star."

My dad's hair was just like him, hardly around and pretty much nonexistent, but every dude on my mom's side of the family is the opposite. They all have full bear muffs on their head. So it could go either way for me. But if I end up like my dad and have a head like an abandoned Chia Pet's ass, I'll probably just go with it. You know, shave it all off and use glitter lube as head moisturizer. Turn my bald ass head into a party ass head. But I would miss the whole hair pulling thing. Somebody should really make a stick-on fake ponytail so a bald bitch can still partake in some hair-pulling fun.

Steven Soderbergh's Magic Mike isn't coming out in theaters equipped with plastic-wrapped seats and popcorn butter that can double as lube until June, but they're already pushing out stills to keep nipples hard and panty cream churning until the summer.

Entertainment Weekly put out those pictures of Channing Tatum (that's Carol O'Neal to you and me), Alex Pettyfer, Adam Rodriguez and Matt Boner flexing their cum gutters as male strippers. One thing I've learned from these pictures is that I ain't shit, because I should've went to nipple waxing school and gotten a job as the head man hair puller on this movie. These dudes are as hairless as a baby worm's pussy. Living The Life is dipping Adam Rodriguez in a tub of NADS and wrapping him in a cocoon of wax strips before pulling that shit off fast. Then I'd carefully pluck each hair off the strips, wash them all off and knit them into a g-string onesie for me to wear around the house. That's not creepy. It's called BEING GREEN! Damn me to hell for not coming up with this sooner.

And I know we've only seen like two or three pictures from this no-no puckering mess, but it sort of does look like the dude version of Showgirls. Showguys! Steven Sodbergh better not disappoint and he better include a scene where Matt pushes Alex down the stairs and Channing rides Matthew McConaughey's dick in a pool while flopping around like a Beverly Hills mermaid having a seizure.

For some of your asses, it's your first day back in cubicle purgatory after a long weekend of lying gut down on your sofa while sucking down a post-Christmas daiquiri (ingredients: leftover Christmas candy of all kinds, the cheap wine your cheap uncle brought to dinner and the perfume from The Dollar Tree that your cheap uncle's wife gave you as a gift) through a straw, so maybe these pictures of some Iglesias nipples will help to soothe your third hangover of 2012. If you're thinking to yourself, "But Michael, I like my Iglesias nipples well-aged and seasoned. Dáme Julio!", then I just have to say, "MOM! Put down your iPad and let's never subliminally speak about Iglesias nipples again."

Whenever I think of Enrique, I think of that beautiful brown face dingle that a possum gnawed off a few years ago after he spread a little queso on it. I still miss that succulent face nipple. I hope he kept it. Actually, since Enrique always goes on about his hamster peen, I hope he attached that mole to the end of his toddler dick to give him more girth. Enrique is mole-ed for Anna Kournikova's pleasure.

I'm always covering Dlisted with heaping servings of dick and man nipples, so finally here's something for all the hos out there who love it when a pair of steel hard nalgas crack their cheek bones while they're tossing some lady salad. This is Serena Williams throwing the paps a "My farts has six packs on them too, bitch!" look while jet skiing with her friends in Miami over the weekend.

When I first brought up these pictures, my eyes fell back like DAMN. That ass. That's an ass that'll make any shit look for another exit because it knows it can't conquer that double stuffed mountain. That's an ass that if you try to bounce a quarter on it, it'll swallow that quarter and spit out a Quarter Pounder. If you tried to hit that ass from the back, it'll circumcise you AGAIN and I'm sure you wouldn't even mind it. When Serena claps that ass, even Zeus sits down and drops his lightning bolt. Bitch ain’t playing around with that ass.

Here’s more of Serena looking like an HGH-taking pit bull in lingerie.