In The Name Of All Things Rojo, I’ve Made a HUGE Mistake In Moving To L.A.!

I’m in L.A. and:

– It’s only 7:15 in the morning and it’s already so damn warm that I can run down the side of the freeway with nothing but ass lip mittens on.

– I’m so going to make french toast out of a Double Double and chutney out of off-ramp oranges for breakfast.

– And I’ve already been baptized as a born again citizen of Southern California by getting flipped off and called something that starts with an “f” (I’m thinking he called me a “funtabulous rascal,” but I’m pretty sure he called me a “fucking asshole“) when I tried to cut a Yaris off while driving out of the airport.

So, you’d think because of all of that I’d be spitting out smoggy rainbows of happiness. Well, I was until I saw these pictures that reminded me one very, VERY, very important thing: THERE’S NO ROJO CALIENTE IN LOS ANGELES! I was so blinded by the shine of weed cards and Jack In The Box dollar tacos that I completely forgot about this. Why didn’t any of you bitches remind me! Sure, I can troll the aisles of some Home Depot, find a fat chola butchie and ask her to please put an orange Tupperware bowl on her head so I won’t be so gingersick, but it won’t be the same. WHAT HAVE I DONE? We have to go back, Kate! We have to go back to the island!

And these pictures of Cynthia Nixon, Rojo and Little Rojo Christ strolling around NYC were taken in the middle of the night. Yes, the curly rays of sun on Little Rojo Christ’s head are that illuminating.

What An Angelic And Demure Sea Nymph

While looking like the Hotmess Monster, Lochie’s skanky American cousin, human bronzer stick Aubrey O’Day posed for a paparazzo in a staged photo shoot that included a choreographed “1…2…3…NIP SLIP!” moment and some covered clam bumping with her lady friend. Aubrey is so ethereal that I’m sure even her crabs fart up pixie dust. Yes, the City of Miami Beach had to shut down this stretch of beach and keep hos from going into the ocean since Aubrey tainted it with the layers upon layers of lead-based paint she smears all over her body, but that is a small price to pay for creating natural magic like this.

The Look Of Marital Bliss

Now everyone in NYC knows why they have charbroiled nipples today (read: it was hotter than hell). The air caught fire when newlyweds Cynthia Nixon and Rojo Caliente strut around NYC today. Cynthia Nixon has a look on her face that says she’s over it, frustrated, about to stab choke a kitten with her bare teeth and hasn’t had a peaceful bowel movement in days. That is the look on every married ho’s face. It’s the official look of a wife! Married life looks good on both of them, but really what doesn’t? I mean, only Rojo Caliente can pull off a pair of Tommy Bahama shorts and Cynthia is melting the pavement with those Birkenstocks (aka the official footwear of the gayelles).

A little later, Cynthia was on the edge of going full Alec Baldwin on a cab driver when he refused to drive her. Once that NOT KNOWING cab driver realized that he had one of the ginger queens of the island before him, he opened up his yellow chariot and drove her to her palace. Who knew that seeing a slightly rage-filled Cynthia would put me through changes? I thought only Rojo had that effect on me.

Charlize Theron Chopped All Her Hair Off

And she looks like a judgmental cartoon caterpillar. Correction: A really hot judgmental cartoon caterpillar. But you know, Charlize Theron would still look hot even if she got a face tattoo of The Situation jacking off into a rubber vagina made of leftover CROCs. Okay, no she wouldn’t. I took it too far.

Charlize buzzed all her hair off to play Furiosa in that Mad Max: Fury Road (Fun fact: The cops call the street Mel Gibson lives on “Fury Road”) movie starring Tom Hardy as Max. Charlize took a Flowbee to her mane of white gold lusciousness, because in the post-Apocalypse there’s nowhere to plug your flatiron and the pile of rubble that used to be a Sally’s Beauty doesn’t have leave-in conditioner under it. So it’s best just to chop that shit off.

I’m more curious as to how Charlize cut her hair off than as to what’s really hiding underneath that hat (dun dun duuuuun). When people cut all their hair off, I always ask them if they did it in a rage-filled, melodramatic, emotionally raw, Mary-J-Blige-as-your-cutting-hair-soundtrack kind of way. You know, they caught their piece rubbing his genitals all over their best friend’s face or their DVR didn’t record the last 10 minutes of the Mad Men finale, so they lose their minds. They run into the bathroom, look for scissors, can’t find scissors, run into the kitchen, grab a knife, run back into the bathroom and start sawing off pieces of their hair while loudly bawling about how they’re cutting their past away and shit. Then as their surrounded by mutilated pieces of their murdered hair, they cry sing the lyrics to Not Gon’ Cry. That’s some Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale shit and it’s the only way to cut all your hair off. Do that shit with feeeeeeeling. I do it with a wig every now and again when I need to feel something.

Here’s newly buzz-headed Charlize leaving a medical center in Beverly Hills yesterday with her tiny son Jackson.

Cynthia Nixon Was The Real Winner At The Tonys Last Night

Nina Arianda of 50 Shades of Venus Fur beat out Mrs. Rojo Caliente, Cynthia Nixon, for Best Lead Actress in a Play at last night’s gay Super Bowl, but I’m pretty sure that a few hours later the full body orgasm she got from being named the greatest non-singing actress on Broadway faded away as she tucked that trophy into bed next to her. Nina stared deep into the doped up eyes of the scary face on the left on her trophy and knew that Cynthia was the real winner of the night since she got to tuck in ROJO CALIENTE!!!!

The reigning Queen and Queen of the ginger gayelles made their first public appearance at the TONYs since they resurrected the beaten horse known as the sanctity of marriage from the dead by becoming each other’s wife three weeks ago. It makes the loins of my soul tingle knowing that after all these years together, the sight of Rojo looking dapper as a motherfucker in a Men’s Warehouse tuxedo (from their debonair Hobbit collection) still makes Cynthia moist in the pits. The sign of true love IS creamy pits.

Nobody Wants To Make Out With Kristen Stewart

RPattz, whose scalp makes a cameo as the enchanted forest in Snow White & The Huntsman, was too busy doing more important things (like deep conditioning his taint hair or whatever) to show up to last night’s MTV Movie Awards, so Kristen Stewart had to accept their award for Best Kiss by herself. KStew tried to make a joke out it by begging Charlize Theron, Thor, Taylor Lautner or ANYBODY to get up there and put their lips on hers. Charlize couldn’t do it, because she was backstage putting her lips on a bong she made out of one of those popcorn trophies. Taylor Lautner couldn’t do it, because he’s not one to put his mouth on lady lips for free. So KStew asked herself, WWJAD (What would Jennifer Aniston do?) and the answer was: make out with herself!

You know, what KStew lacks in acting skills, she makes up for in awkwardness. She is beyond awkward. This one time when I was 8 or 9, I walked in on my one-legged stepmother changing her tampon over the toilet in my dad’s guest bathroom. Afterward, she sat down next to me at the breakfast table (No, we weren’t having tomato omelets, thank God!) and we ate in silence. If I could take the awkwardness I felt in that moment and mold it into a human person, that human person would be a lot like Kristen Stewart. Just awkwardness running through her veins…

Anyway, here’s a few pictures from last night. In order: Jennifer Aniston, Jodie Foster (throwing either a “Where’s a strap-on when you really need one?” or “This bitch better not ask me to make out with her!” side-eye), Johnny Depp, Ciara, Christina Ricci, Charlize, Wiz Khaliafaawhatever with Amber Rose, KStew, Emma Stone, Jessica Biel, Chris Hemsworth, Ryan Seacrest with Julianne Hough, Brooke Hogan, Ick & Nast, Jean-Claude Van Damme with guest, Emma Watson, two Fraggle Rock refugees, Marky Mark, Andrew Garfield and Russell Brand.