Category: I Don’t Hate This
The Celebrity Peen Hugger Strikes Again!
Don’t linger too long, or you’re going to get a jealous text from Bradley Cooper: “Sorry, didn’t realize you were just going around hugging crotches willy-nilly. Where I’m from, a crotch-hug means something, slut.”
Award season usually brings us lots of actors pulling ‘serious contemplation face’, lots of actors talking about their craft (just typing that gave me such severe douche chills I had to put on a cardigan), and now, thanks to Vitalii Sediuk, we can also add to the list ‘lots of actors’s crotches getting blindsided by the Ukraine’s No.1 professional crotch-snuggler’. The last time we saw Vitalii, he was nose-deep in B-Coops nut sack; this time he set his signs on ambushing Leonardo DiCaprio on the red carpet at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival. As I started to watch the video, I sat nervously hoping he didn’t pull a Will Smith and deliver a roundhouse kick to Vitalii’s face, but thankfully he laughed it off. Meanwhile, check out the blonde woman. Jesus lady, calm thafuck down; he’s hugging his legs, not ripping the balls off with his teeth. If Arnie Grape is cool with it, we’re all cool with it.
Hopefully this isn’t the last we see of Vitalii Sediuk, because I’ve already placing bets in my Oscar pool of who’s crotch he’s going to hug next. Right now it’s 5-1 odds on Bruce Dern,10-1 on Chiwetel Ejiofor, and even-odds he hugs Matthew McConaughey’s crotch and faints (“Why does it smell like Corona and low tide at the ocean?”)
Here’s more of Leo, Martin Scorsese, and Big Poppa Waffles (aka Jonah Hill) arriving at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival. And for no reason but ALAGANCE, I’ve also included a side of Karina Smirnoff, who arrived looking like she’d be more comfortable in a Sochi nightclub showing high-level members of the IOC a good time:
(Pics: Wenn)
Pay Attention Madonna – This Is How ‘Sexy Twerking Memaw’ Is Done
Even though the word ‘twerk’ and the act of twerking are as dead to me as a bloated #YOLO washing up on the banks of the River Swag, I can still find some room in my heart to let in one last display of a white person trying to ass-bump an invisible ghost. Immediately after watching this video of Helen Mirren getting her twerk-on, I’m boarding up the coffin lid with nails and lowering it into the grave plot reserved for the Dutty Wine (because for some reason, that dance move is resurrected nightly in my kitchen after my 2nd glass of Baileys).
Because Dame Helen Mirren is the best at pretty fucking much everything, she was FINALLY given the Harvard Hasty Pudding award for Woman of the Year. I’m sure a meaningless award given by an American college might mean nothing to you, but for some of us, receiving a gold-plated snack bowl and getting to ride around in a convertible beside a dude dressed like Miss Chi-Chi Rodriguez is the pinnacle of success. Plus, their award ceremony is more fun than the Oscars drunk booty calling the Golden Globes. During the ceremony, Helen was asked to play a game of charades and one of the words she got was TWERKING. After doing some weird shovelling gesture (is that what twerking is in England? “Just ‘avin a twerk in the garden with a fag”) she finally lets the DGAF wash over her and squats down for a rump pump.
Now, it’s not the best twerk game I’ve ever seen (I once saw a dude twerking at McDonalds for a McChicken sandwich) but it’s pretty damn good for an old one who’s been put on the spot and doesn’t even really want to do it. Plus, she didn’t have any music! If they knew they had a card in that pile that said TWERKING, then it’s their responsibility to also provide her with a couple of songs to pop dat pussy to. And maybe a shirtless dude to twerk on.
Here’s more of Dame Helen playing charades (I’m sure calling someone an Owl of Ga Hoole in an insult in one of the nerdier cosplay communities) and riding the Excuse My Beauty Express through town:
(Pics: Wenn)