And here comes 2016 to drag another relationship into the Love Is Dead Cemetery and bury it next to Brangelina’s marriage.
Well, this one hurts. Tall piece of emotionless hotness Ray Donovan (real name: Liev Schreiber) and Naomi Watts were at the Venice Film Festival earlier this month (see: pictures below) to pimp out their movie The Bleeder, and they were pretty much over as a couple at that point. Everyone is breaking up! They both put out a statement to everyone today saying that they’re separating after 11 years and politely told us nosy whores to please respect the “privacy please” sign hanging on the front door to their lives:
“Over the past few months we’ve come to the conclusion that the best way forward for us as a family is to separate as a couple. It is with great love, respect, and friendship in our hearts that we look forward to raising our children together and exploring this new phase of our relationship. While we appreciate your curiosity and support, we ask the press to be mindful of our children and respect their right to privacy.”
Liev and Naomi made two sons together: 9-year-old Alexander “Sasha” Pete and 7-year-old Samuel Kai.
Since it seems like nowadays two famous types can’t break up without some sort of ESCANDALO coming out, I won’t be too surprised if I have to use the “scandal” tag in a future post about Liev and Naomi. (And yes, I see those old “wandering peen” rumors and blind items winking at me.)
And if celebrity break-ups come in threes, I wonder who’s next? Beyonce and Jay-Z? Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson? Shauna Sand and Lucite heels ? (Why did I even put that out there?) That demonic cunt 2016 better not even look at Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. My almost-dead and frozen heart will really die and freeze over if Joanna and Dean from Overboard end their unbreakable love.
What you are looking at above is Ashley Judd, Jim Belushi, Amanda Seyfried, David Duchovny, Naomi Watts, Matthew Lillard, Michael Cera, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and Trent Reznor. And if you can believe it, you’re only looking at less than 20% of the cast of the Twin Peaks reboot. I hope Showtime knows how to place a casual encounters ad on Craigslist, because something tells me they’re going to need to make a couple extra bucks to make sure all those paychecks don’t bounce.
The cast list for Showtime’s Twin Peaks reboot was announced today. We already knew that most of the original cast was open to coming back. But thanks to Showtime, we now know that pretty much everyone in David Lynch’s Rolodex is coming with them. Variety has a screen grab of the cast list, and I’ve put it after the cut.
I almost typed “methiness.” That works too.
I’m also with Theo James (the dude in the poster). When I look at Zoe Kravitz’s hair, I too don’t know if I want to slather it with soy sauce and take a huge bite out of it since it looks like an overstuffed spicy tuna roll. Or slather it with lube, pat my b-hole thrice for good luck and bounce on it.
Last night was the NYC premiere of the second movie in the Divergent series, the franchise that is the Rita Ora to The Hunger Games’ RiRi. Nearly everybody showed up looking a wreck (see the fuckery in gallery). Maggie Q came dressed as a bordello-owning villainess who wears the scalped hair of her victims on her dress. Dylan McDermott wore the half-assed Neo from The Matrix costume that every dude wore in 1999. And Shailene Woodley somehow managed to make one of Walter Mercado’s favorite funeral-going pantsuits look dull and boring. But Zoe Kravitz was the biggest wreck of them all. Leave it to Lenny Kravitz and Lisa Bonet’s daughter to show those hos how messiness is really done.
If the Gorton’s Fisherman did a line of goth stripper clothes for Frederick’s, that ensemble on Zoe would be the crown jewel of his collection. Zoe is kind of like a walking sex party. You can use her hair as a dildo, her dress as a sex hammock and those fringes as whips. Whenever you make assholes and coochies pucker with your hairstyle, you won the night.
When I saw Alicia Vikander (now Academy Award Winner Alicia Vikander) stroll down the red carpet last night, it gave me a massive nostalgia high. A lot of people probably did, thanks to Alicia’s Beauty and the Beast realness. But gazing upon that pale yellow poofy Louis Vuitton dress instantly whooshed me back to memories of playing a game called Beautiful Lady in my childhood bedroom. The rules of Beautiful Lady were simple: look like a beautiful lady. Usually I would play it safe and throw on a Dress n’ Dazzle 3-in-1 Glamour Gown and my exquisite Burger King ThunderCats ring. But if I wanted to look extra beautiful, I’d pull the fitted sheet off my bed and make a stunning ballgown.
I liked to use the fitted sheet because it was far more glamorous and show-stopping than the flat sheet. It puffed out at the bottom, and as everyone knew in the 80s, puffy = instant sophistication. It was dead easy – I’d just wrap it around my waist and fasten it with a banana clip. Then I’d throw on my “wig” (a pair of black nylons) and wait for the flattery to roll in. Alicia clearly knows that Beautiful Lady is always the look, because she made sure to pair her bedsheet dress with flat-on-top/long-in-the-back hair too. Although I don’t think her jewelry came from Burger King. If I had to guess, it’s probably some cheap crap from Harry Winston or something.
Alicia wasn’t the only one who was giving me flashbacks to my homemade fashion years. Kate Winslet also took me for a walk down memory lane.
Right now, Leonardo DiCatchAHo is getting a plank installed on the side of his yacht for his piece-of-the-hour to walk off of after he’s done with her, and that could only mean one thing: IT’S CANNES TIMES! It’s that time of year when actor types pimp out their movies, low-rent fame whores frolic on
yachts sailboats dinghies and movie critics get life from cutting bitches up in their reviews (see: last year’s glorious Grace of Monaco reviews).
The Cannes Film Festival opened tonight with the premiere of Sharknado 3. No, I wish. It opened with the premiere of La Tete Haute. Lupita Nyong’o started this shit off right by giving us some “Mrs. Roper goes to Miami in 1977″ glamour in a Gucci gown that was decorated with what looks like herpes-ridden flowers. Lupita also took us all back to 7th grade science class by serving up some sternum for days. Lupita twirled, twirled, twirled on the red carpet and she twirled so much that she created a strong wind that blew all the way to Atlanta and knocked over self-proclaimed twirl queen Kenya Moore.
Lupita looks fine and everything, but I have one very important question: WHERE IN “DOES SPIRIT AIRLINES FLY TO CANNES?” HELL IS PHOEBE PRICE?! How can Cannes even start without its queen there to fill a seat? Chicken Cutlets is usually at Cannes every single year, because she has a poultry heart made of gold and knows that the festival needs her A-list beauty, glamour and talent. So where art thou, Chicken Cutlets? She probably decided that Cannes is over and it’s all about the Burbank International Film Festival now.
And here’s some others that are NOT Phoebe Price at the opening ceremony tonight. I’m still trying to figure out which superhero Karlie Kloss came dressed as.
A wise ho once told me “You can be classy, sassy, or assy” (truly wise words to live by), and since we’ve already covered sassy and assy, here’s Lupita Nyong’o working some classy. Lupita is the definition of class to begin with, but she could have shown up wearing a pearl-covered coochie shield and I still would have thrown her into the classy pile, because pearls are classy as hell. You could throw the trashiest, dirtiest skank in a pearl necklace (not THAT kind), and you’d be all “Excuse me, madame – may I offer you a glass of Champale and a cigarette that I didn’t roll myself just now in the bathroom?”
But really, what more is there to say about Lupita Nyong’o’s amazing pearl-encrusted Oscar dress than: PEARLS. So many pearls. Every pearl. Sorry, oysters, all your pearls are belong to us. And by us, I mean Lupita; she has all your pearls now. Your job here is done, oysters; all you have now is being delicious when shucked raw and topped with mignonette sauce. And to Lupita’s stylist (who I assume is Pearl Van Oyster from The Waterville Gang), good job on the diamond earrings; I think pearls would have been too on-the-nose.
Here’s more of Lupita looking like the Atlantis entry into the Miss Universe pageant, as well as just about every other fancy dressed type at the Oscars last night, including Julianne Moore, JLo looking like the textbook definition of JLo, and the ghost of my last duvet Marion Cotillard: