Jennifer Lawrence is about to become Jennifer Maroney, thus making her the second-best J. Maroney. But that also means JLaw needs one last wild night of single-girl debauchery, which for JLaw most likely will mean boozing, farting, falling, puking, and pissing in a $2000 Dior dress. And according to The Sun, said night will be planned by her friend Adele. I know some people aren’t here for bachelorette parties in gay bars, but I have a feeling this one will be welcomed.
Celebrity wedding season is upon us, and it started off with a whimper with The Prattengger’s biblically sanctioned fruit and vegetable affair. I fully expect Jennifer Lawrence to swing the pendulum in a messier direction by offering her guests BBQ beef ribs with no fork and using personalized whoopee cushions in lieu of place cards. According to People, JLaw’s already picked out her dress and venue for her upcoming first wedding to art dealer Cooke Maroney.
What do hetero chicks do when they want to keep Night At The Roxbury-type dude bros off their asses and terrible music from ruining their Friday night out? They party with the gays, obviously. A self-proclaimed “stay at home mom” going out drinking with her recently engaged friend at a NYC gay dive bar should be no big deal, except when the mom is the second “greatest singer in da world” Adele and her friend is America’s farting and falling sweetheart Jennifer Lawrence.
It wasn’t that long ago that Jennifer Lawrence was banging beige elevator music guitar hero Chris Martin before moving onto Darren Aronofsky (which I always saw as a bizarre setup, but the old timer seems to have no shortage of company of beautiful ladies, whether they deny it or not. That director dick must be good when he calls it to “Action“). Now America’s favorite farting/falling (farting while falling? I’ve heard that’s a thing) Sweetheart has taken the final step before locking her lady bits to one person forever by getting engaged to Cooke Maroney, an art dude from Gladstone Gallery, and she has a fat old rock on her lock down finger that proves it.
Remember Jennifer Lawrence? It feels like it’s been centuries since we’ve all screamed, “That JLaw, she’s so relatable!”, over the multi-multi-millionaire famous actress showing that she’s one of us by busting out a total natural fall at the Oscars (which we’ve all done, of course) and accidentally super queefing her tampon onto the floor during an important business meeting with Oprah and Steven Spielberg (that didn’t happen, but I’m sure it happened). JLaw is in Dark Phoenix, which comes out this summer, and that Theranos biopic starring her is still in the works, but she’s mostly been taking time off and spending it pulling some post-sex dutch oven action (you know she does) on her boyfriend of about 8 months Cooke Maroney. And now Cooke Maroney is her fiancé.
I always need an internal Hazmat Cleanup when I see or hear the words Harvey Weinstein, and the above effigy created by Edenbridge Bonfire Society that was burned moments later, barely takes the edge off of the disgust his name and image invoke. He has become synonymous with that festering pile of abandoned trash floating on a barge in New York Harbor. This latest Harvey garbage isn’t any less biohazard producing than any other, and it has an extra layer of grossness to it. Apparently Harvey dragged Jennifer Lawrence into his bad acts, claiming that he had sex with her, while in the act of attempting to rape a woman who has now filed a lawsuit against him. Continue reading