Here’s Robert Pattinson stoically standing in a junkyard to summon the tiny unicorns back to his enchanted forest hair. That’s not grease and oily build-up covering his tendrils, that’s the syrupy nectar tiny unicorns secrete when they rub their haunches against his wisps of hair. That’s not sparkly dandruff stuck up in there, that’s unicorn sperm. Here’s RPattz looking ridiculous in L’Uomo Vogue and the mop on his head is so damn high that if the angels hung their faces over the clouds, they could floss their teefs out with the tips of his hair.
You can laugh at him for wearing that Lanvin coat, but it’s not fashion to RPattz, it’s armor! Every time he steps out of his house, the crazed Twihards who camp in his front yard gutters, throw themselves on his body. Well, the next time they do it, will be the last time they do it. Unless….they mistake those things for cone dildos and try to mate with one. I’ve made the same mistake too…
And here’s also some pictures of RPattz with KStew at a party at the Hollywood Forever cemetery last night. Even his mask look miserable.
Stuart V. Goldberg not only looks like he slipped out of Liberace’s urethra, but he is also a delicate poet of Shakespearean proportions. Mr. Goldberg sings to People that he spent several hours with White Oprah and Lindsay Lohan this weekend to discuss the possibility of representing her in The State vs. DELUSION. Contrary to the rumor going around that LiLo felt Mr. Goldberg was too eccentric for her, he claims that he’s the one who decided not to sprinkle his glitter on the case.
Mr. Goldberg also gave his opinion on the state of Lindsay Lohan and he showed us that he should really be writing songs for Don Ho to sing up in a dinner theater in heaven. Mr. Goldberg flipped his silvery wave of hair, did a kick, ball, change and sang:
“My impression of Lindsay is that she’s a fragile lost child – a sleeping beauty with her head in the sand. I found her not fully forewarned of the consequence of her actions. I’m concerned that she’s not disciplined or tethered enough to the reality of adult consequences. She doesn’t seem to have the awareness of what’s going to befall her.
My real worry for her is not just the jail time, but my fear is that she’s overly susceptible to a probation system that’s set up for her to fail.”
The beginning part of that quote proves that Just For Men hair dye combined with fake tanner does indeed create a toxic fume that eats at brain cells. NO! Mr. Goldberg has a kind heart unlike us. While he says that Lindsay is a “sleeping beauty with her head in the sand,” we say that she is a delusional dopehead with her head up her own ass. Mr. Goldberg is a better human being (?) than all of us.
No, not Tom Sturridge or RPattz. The dandy dandelion in the middle who is making RPattz’s magical follicles feel inadequate (Why do you think he’s wearing a hat?) has been cast in the title role in Sony’s reboot of the Spider-Man franchise. Sony announced last night that 26-year-old Andrew Garfield will stuff his bits into Tobey Maguire’s old leotard for the next Spider-Man 3D movie, which will start playing in theaters on July 3, 2012. HA! Like we’ll all be around then.
Sony reportedly broke up with Tobey and Kiki Dunst, because they didn’t want to leave a giant stack of cash on their nightstands anymore. So Sony decided to put out a totally brand new set of Spider-Man movies with a cheaper cast led by the fancy lion up there. Marc Webb, the director of this shit, had this to say about Andrew:
“Though his name may be new to many, those who know this young actor’s work understand his extraordinary talents. He has a rare combination of intelligence, wit, and humanity. Mark my words, you will love Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker.”
Andrew’s credits include The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, Lion for Lambs, Boy A and The Social Network.
Unfortunately for all of us, that picture of Andrew is kind of old so he no longer has a luscious mane that makes him look like a European hair dresser who drives a 1980s Ferrari convertible and sleeps on a waterbed covered with satin leopard print sheets.
That Spidey shit doesn’t shoot until December so that gives Andrew enough time to grow his lush waterfall of hair out again, because the world needs a Spider-Man who looks like he just stepped out of a salon (salon glooooooow).
via Coming Soon
The Crystal Enchantress of the Ice sat down with the Abominable Wigman this morning to discuss all sorts of glittery things, and of course his arch rival’s name was brought up.
Wendy Williams read a cuntified quote from Evan Lysacek about Johnny Weir not being asked to participate in Stars on Ice. In case you can’t watch the video above, here’s the quote from Likesdadick:
“‘Stars on Ice’ is really selective of who they hire and they only hire the best of the best to skate. It would’ve been hard of them to justify hiring him, and I think he was really upset because he wanted the financial benefit of the tour. A lot of us in the skating world were really disappointed in the way he reacted, basically whining that he wasn’t chosen.”
Johnny, who was dressed like a fancy Russian lesbian going to a bris, responded by saying that he has never been asked to do Stars on Ice, and it’s not a problem for him. Johnny believes that everybody made a big deal out of him not participating because he was the Miss Congeniality of the Olympics. Johnny then called Evan a “slore.”
Hm. Is Evan a slore? Before we answer that, let’s brush up on the official meaning of “slore” from the most accurate dictionary in the world: Urban Dictionary. According to UD, this one of the definitions of “slore“:
The combining of a “slut” and “Whore“. Usually in terms of a real trick ass bitch, who can’t keep dick out her mouth/puss/rectum.
“Yo that bitch ain’t nuttin but a mudda’fuckin’ Slore”
Cut to Evan making a guilty face while a dick is in his mouth, puss and rectum. On that note, we’re not going to fight you on that one, Johnny.
And if you need more Johnny in your life today, here he is spreading the sparkly icicles to Lady Caca’s “Bad Romance.” If you really want to make this an extra magical viewing experience, turn the volume down and play the theme song for “The Neverending Story” instead.
Don’t you feel like you’re riding through Fantasia on Falcor’s back?
If you’re sitting at an empty dinner table in the UK somewhere, waiting for a warm plate and a motherly ear, then you better take a good look at the picture above, because your mother is at the London premiere of Remember Me trying to woo RPattz with her charms. Yes, she’s wearing the pendant you made her in the third grade. She even signed her name on that sign. THAT SHAMELESS TRAMP! And I didn’t know she was allergic to vaginas? How does she touch her….Oh, forget it. We’ve already gone too far.
Tonight was the big London premiere of that non-Twilight movie RPattz is in. My favorite part of any RPattz premiere is looking at the pictures of the crazies who show up to pop the panty pudding in person. Like these girls:
Bitches screamed so loud in excitement that their “e” shrunk and turned a different color.
RPattz, who was dressed like someone’s insurance salesman father coming home drunk and scaring the children, had his big premiere last night for the movie that isn’t Twilight. RPattz was a menagerie of faces you see in the waiting room at rehab (or the high school principal’s office).
Sometimes he looked stoned, sometimes he looked like he was tweaking out, sometimes he looked boozed and sometimes he looked like he didn’t know what the meaning of sleep is. I’m just going to assume he was having a strange reaction to all the different kinds of panty pudding fermenting around him. That shit can be like Jenkem. Or maybe his vagina allergy was acting up again.
Here’s more of RPattz at the NYC premiere of Remember Me last night with Claire from Lost. Somebody dragged Kristen Stewart out of her beaver hole to stumble across the red carpet and act like she would rather be taking a hot bath (which is saying a lot) than get her picture taken.