Would You Like To Swing On A Star?

John Travolta probably thought that he was the only legendary QUEEN at last night’s Savages premiere in L.A., but nope. John was dethroned the second the red carpet received a glamorous visit from his Saturday Night Fever co-twirler Donna Pescow, known to my fellow children of the late 80s as THE MOM FROM OUT OF THIS WORLD!  

If you read the title Out Of This World and are saying “HUH?” the same way John Travolta’s peen does when a lady kisses him on the lips, then please go back to 5th grade recess and let the adults talk about a very important television show. Not just any very important television show, but a very important television show about a human woman (played to perfection by Donna Pescow) who sexed on a male alien (voiced to perfect by Burt Reynolds) and gave birth to an alien/human daughter with supernatural powers. Homegirl could stop time by pressing her fingers together! It blew my mind. There’s further proof that us people of the 80s were simple and hypnotized by simple concepts. But really, who’s not hypnotized by this?

You know, now that I watch that shit again, I’m pretty sure Out Of This World was just Scientology propaganda. I mean, it does look like Suri Cruise: the teenage years. Whatever. I still love it and I love it so much that I’m not going to mention that Donna Pescow’s scarf thing looks like it was just used to wipe Ronald McDonald’s ass. Donna is serving up some ketchup mustard realness and I don’t mean that in a good way.

Here’s a few other tricks and tramps from last night’s premiere: Donna, Blake NotSoLively (thinking she’s Kim Basinger in L.A. Confidential and shit), Benicio Del Toro, Mary-Louise Parker, Salma Hayek and Taylor Kitsch.

Battle Of The Catsuits

I’m mad that there’s no VCT (visible camel toe), because I really want to see their sparkly camel toes do the Kid ‘n Play dance together.

Some dude with a name like a mid-level law firm (or a name like a Wilson Phillips cover band that only sings Chynna’s parts) won American Idol last night, because easily impressed teenage girls who lose their minds over white boys with guitars are the only tricks voting for that shit, but who cares about that when we’ve got Fantasia and Chaka Khan defying the laws of Spandex and sequins. With the help of an industrial-strength sausage caser, Fantasia and Chaka squeezed into catsuits and showed those amateur whores how suffocating-crotch-glamour is really done. Chaka wins this catsuit fever battle, because she’s Chaka and wins almost everything, but Fantasia gave her a run for her Cameflage. Fantasia looked like a giant gay eel trying to swallow Verdine White whole. Fantasia split that catsuit up the side, because she knows she’s way too much for it to handle and didn’t want it to overexert itself later. That was nice of Fanny.

Wearing that catsuit almost makes me forgive ‘Tasia for putting that discount Halloween store Morticia wig on her head. Almost. And here’s a few more pictures including some of Fantasia flashing her coma titties on the red carpet. Yes, Cher worked that look better almost 40 years ago, but I can’t hate Fantasia for trying.

Micaela Schäfer Does It Again

At the Men in Black 3 premiere in Berlin yesterday, Will Smith, Josh Brolin and Nicole ScherMINGEr all received a lesson in sophistication and style when Germany’s high priestess of class Micaela Schäfer floated onto the red carpet wearing a stunning couture ensemble exclusively made by your old shitty VHS player that ate almost every tape. Micaela, who was diagnosed with elegant-itis which causes beauties to overheat if they wear actual clothes, showed us all that it doesn’t take much to look like the epitome of a lady. All you need is a dog chain collar from Petco, black panties, an 80s belt from the Salvation Army, barf from a VHS tape, a pair of camera-ready nipples and zero amounts of shame.

Yes, it’s true that after the premiere, janitors mistook Micaela for a shredded trash bag that was ransacked by raccoons and threw her into a dump truck, but I’m sure she looked absolutely gorgeous as she climbed out of the landfill.

RuPaul’s Drag Race: Dick Did Willam In

On last night’s grand finale of RuPaul’s Drag Race (click here to see the whole thing), Willam finally burped up the rule she broke that led to her getting banished to the land of misfit wigs. Willam didn’t get sashayed away for cheating on a challenge or for being Shangela in disguise. Willam fucked himself by getting fucked!

When you make the cast of Drag Race, you have to tuck that fact into your mouth and you’re not allowed to tell anyone. Willam tried to convince his husband that he was off to Europe to shoot a movie, but ho didn’t believe him and followed him to the hotel where he fucked the crown away. Willam later told producers that the muffled moans coming from his room weren’t from Phi Phi trying to take the competition out by suffocating him with a breastplate. Willam told them the truth and that’s why she was told to take a final strut down the catwalk. Here’s the Disqualification of Willam in her own words:

Willam: “When you go away to Drag Race, you can’t tell anyone — it’s top secret. And I told my husband I was doing a non-union horror movie in Europe, which I’ve done before and they suck, so don’t watch them. And he didn’t believe me. He was like, ‘Why you gotta take all this drag?’ So I lied, and he followed me to the hotel. The first night, he walked on my door, and it was a delivery!”

Ru: “So in other words, you were receiving conjugal visits from your husband and, unfortunately, that was in violation of the rules?”

Willam: “Visiting makes it sound like we were visiting — there wasn’t no talking. But they were very long visits — he’s 6’6″.”

I’ve always said that if you’re going to screw yourself out of $100,000, you might as well have something to show for it like a sore asshole and a sex spot on the hotel sheets. Peen is the only acceptable reason for getting DQ’ed from a competition.

Willam’s explanation for barfing on the side of the stage didn’t make it into last night’s episode, but Entertainment Weekly was at the taping and they said she ate too much food. Willam knew she was going to get eliminated and so she ate her feelings at lunch.

Willam explained that she knew she was getting eliminated from the show, so during her lunch break that day, she gorged herself. If you remember, she was wearing a corset-style top that day. So it was simply biology at work: She ate too much and was squeezed into something too small to hold it — so something had to go. Willam did explain, however, that she cleaned up the mess herself.

This explanation makes sense when you remind yourself that Willam’s idea of food is anything that comes in a bottle with the word VODKA written on it. Please, like that bitch eats food!

As for the queen who took it all, you won’t get any complaints from me. If the crown didn’t go to Chad Michaels, the graceful flower plucked from the Laurie Waring garden, then it needed to go to Sharon Needles. Anybody but Phi Phi’s Gene Hackman in drag looking ass.

Okay, maybe I have one complaint. Sharon wore a Ouija board headpiece that blocked the tiara Ru put on her head. Sharon is officially the queen now so it’s her duty to always keep her head crown-ready from now on.

Chicken Cutlets Takes Florida!

Monday has happened to all of us again and some of you are sitting in your cubicle prison looking for a reason to go on. Well, stop making a noose out of paper clips, because there is a reason to go on now that international supermodel and Hot Babe forever, Phoebe Price, is taking her signature pose game across state lines! Everybody on television keeps telling my ass that NYC is going to be hotter than a freckle on a ginger cat’s pussy today and now I know why. The heat is rising from the piping hot poses Chicken Cutlets threw down in Miami yesterday afternoon.

Looking like a photo shoot for Chickens Magazine: Swimsuit Edition, PP posed for the paps despite the fact that a flock of raver birds died on her ginger mane after crashing into the side of her head. Glamour doesn’t stop for bird carcasses clinging to your weave. I checked CNN and they haven’t yet reported on why Chicken Cutlets is in Florida, but I’m guessing she’s there on a goodwill mission as the official Ambassador of the Ho Stroll. Oh Florida, you just keep finding new ways to keep your title as the fuckery capital of the world.

Just Give “Pain And Gain” The Best Costume Oscar Already

Up until now, I was ready to campaign for that Spring Breakers mess to collect the Best Costume Oscar for filling its wardrobe closet with sophisticated ensembles bought at a Panama Beach City bikini store that also sells Pall Malls and piña Colada mix. But EVERYTHING has changed with these pictures from the Miami set of Pain and Gain, a movie about two bodybuilders involved an extortion ring (think Hans and Franz but way gayer) starring Marky Mark, The Rock, Ed Harris and Anthony Mackie. The vision of 80s perfection above is Spanish-Dutch (Sputch) actress Yolanthe Sneijder-Cabau and her ensemble was sprayed out of a pink AquaNet bottle.

From the Camp Beverly Hills half shirt to the Freestyle Reeboks to the high-waisted surfer pants, this entire look is a snap bracelet away from being the official uniform of every girl in my second grade class. That whole picture smells like Love’s Baby Soft. If the entire movie was just Yolanthe busting moves to a Deniece Williams song blaring from a hot pink boom box, I’d copy it to VHS and watch it until the tape snapped.