Good Morning, Here’s Craig David Working Out (Because He Obviously Never Does That)

Some of us are just coming off of a long weekend where we shoveled piles of cake pieces and charbroiled meat patties marinated in beer into the eating holes on our faces until we bloated up like vaporizer bags full of lukewarm farts (special thanks to face eater expert J. Harvey for making it possible for me to do so), so what better way is there to start this Monday (camouflaged as Tuesday) than by looking at pictures of Craig David flexing the six pack on his nipples in Miami over the weekend.

If you feel bad about only picking up 2-liter beer jugs this weekend instead of picking up a barbell like Craig David here, don’t! It’s true that the Gods above allow humanity to have only a certain number of muscles total, so we’re doing Craig David a favor by giving him our shares. I don’t have muscles so that Craig David can have more than enough. You’re welcome, Craig David!

If you’re still trying to figure out who the hell Craig David is, I should tell your ass that he used to be known for singing, but now he’s known for being a muscle hoarder.  Craig David is also what your last name would be if you had a three way marriage with Daniel Craig and Larry David. Good to know.

And if torsos like greased up sticks of delicious beef jerky don’t do it for you, I also threw in pictures of Gabrielle Union warming her nalgas in Miami yesterday.

I’ll Take What I Can Get

The gayfetti is still exploding in my head after Maryland became the latest state for me to become somebody’s huzzban’ during a drunken ass whim (I’m thinking I’ll have a Female Trouble-themed wedding in honor of Baltimore’s crown jewel John Waters), and now the gayfetti is exploding down below after my eyes touched this picture of Prince Hot Ginge and Prince William partying their nipples off in a locker room. This shit is totally fake and comes from photographer Alison Jackson who is known for creating lukewarm escandaloso royal scenes using a PHG look-alike and a Prince William look-alike (who also does “Left at the Altar Because I’m An Annoying Bitch Now Let’s Eat My Tears Off Of My Wedding Cake” parties as Carrie Bradshaw).

Alison put together this level 6 panty creaming moment for UK Cosmo’s 40th anniversary. While I appreciate that Cosmo published this picture next to their article on labia decals (I’m guessing), I CAN’T with them and Alison for putting Prince Fake Ginge’s ass cheek in the background. PHG’s royal nalgas are the money and fake Prince William’s face should be in the background. Actually, fake Prince William should really be on the porcelain throne, because judging by his facial expression his end is about to crowneth a turd, as Queen Elizabeth I always said.

via OUT (Thanks, Seth)

Put It Away

Lady Gaga (the “lady” part is up for discussion) was spotted out in Paris shopping sans Underoos once again says Hollywood Rag. Bitch, put some pants on. That being said, I’m glad she’s helping the local economy and hopefully buying some stuff to cover that shit up while she’s at it. Come to think of it though, maybe she had lots of panties and they all put on their Nikes and drank the Kool-Aid to willingly go to the next level. I can’t say I blame them.

You know, I’m not a prude (more of a total ho really) but I have to say I’ll be glad when this no pants / leggings count as pants phase of our fashion history is over. My mama was always like “make sure you have clean underwear on!” meaning UNDER my clothes, so I just can’t with this trend. Why is it always the people you don’t want to see doing that shit that are doing that shit?? Charlize, baby, you are welcome to support the no pants phenomenon at your leisure. I’ll wait. People of WalMart, please sit the fuck down.

On another note, MTV.com says she and Justin Beiber are the front-runners for charitable celebs this year. So maybe she just donated all her lingerie to the needy? Gaga is a giver like that. Don’t mind that the crotchless panties all started out with crotches. They did not melt away or off themselves, she cut them out. Just believe that and don’t think about it too much.

ETA I have no idea how this ended up under Crumbs. I blame Al Gore as the inventor of the internetz. #notmyfault

Hot Ginge On A Hog!

Never mind the cell phone strapped to the waistband (!!!!!!!!) or the fact that he’s dressed up more like a lesbian lumberjack buying a chainsaw at Home Depot than a butch bitch biker, Prince Hot Ginge straddled on a Harley is still making all of my pistons fire. Prince Hot Ginge has moved on from California to Arizona to continue helicopter training, and this past Friday he transformed into The Gingey Rider when he rented a Harley from a dealership in Scottsdale. This is the same Harley dealership in Scottsdale that I’m going to need you to stand guard in front of while I sneak in to make out with that bike’s seat. You have my permission to mace me in the face if you see me putting a condom over one of those handlebars after pulling down my chonies. The ginger fever hits me the wrong way sometimes. I can’t help it.

A witness tells The Daily Mail that the strands of pure bronze sprouting out of PHG’s arms twinkled in the sun and blinded all motorists as he sped off for the open road with his bodyguard. The witness went on to say, “Harry looked like he definitely knew his way around a motorbike. It was Friday rush-hour traffic. He was on the freeway for a while before they hit the open road. He was weaving in and out of commuter traffic. He didn’t even have proper leathers on or gloves. He rode like a pro.”

You know, it’s best that I let this moment from last night’s Saturday Night Live describe my feelings about Hot Ginge on a Hog:

At this performance, the role of these PHG pictures will be played by Paul Rudd and the role of me will be played by Jason Segel.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and practice my “grazing with a BIC” technique since the hanky code tells me that PHG gets into shaving shit. I knew there was a good reason for why the tingles overtake me when I get a whiff of ginger-scented shaving cream.

Scenes From Occupy Twatlight

Did your coworker in the cubicle next to yours who named one of her 12 cats Edpurr Cullen and who you once caught bidding on a Twilight toilet seat cover call in sick Friday and today? If she did, then the crazy bitch just got caught. Snitch on her! She obviously made her way to the Nokia Theater in L.A. to temporarily move into the Twilight Tent City (aka The Jennifer Aniston Projects) in hopes that some of RPattz’s DNA will fall on her tongue as he walks past her on the red carpet at the premiere of Breaking Dawn tonight.

Some of these Twihards have been camping out for the past five days! THE FUCK doesn’t even begin to describe. “Oh hi, nana, no I can’t make it to your 90th birthday party, because I’ll be sleeping on the fucking concrete so that I can see Taylor Lautner in the flesh from 200 yards away. Oh, stop crying, nana…”

If you’re in the L.A. area, you better pop open your umbrellas now. In just a few minutes, L.A. is about get a torrential downpour of extra chunky cooch cream that has been brewing inside of hundreds of Twihards for days. Just look at these crazies. Some of these Twihards put on wedding dresses to pose next to a cardboard Edward Cullen, so just imagine what they plan to do when they see the real thing in person. As soon as RPattz’s toe touches the red carpet, hymens will break, pussies will explode and a cherries jubilee tsunami will take him out. By the end of the night, he’ll look like Carrie at the prom. Well, at least that means hundreds of 30-something Twihards will finally lose their virginity tonight.

Some Community Man Nipples In The Morning

Most of this morning’s news is all about Rick Perry scraping his own shit from the bottom of his hot cowboy boot and some Penn State students flipping vans over their football coach getting fired for putting on his Pope Goggles, so I’m going to temporarily blow away those dark clouds of insane terror and bring out a bright shining sun in the form of a topless Joel McHale!

Joel is trying to make GROUNDBREAKING HISTORY by being the first white man to be named as People’s Sexiest Man Alive and so he twerked his camouflage nipples (somebody please send him some black licorice nipple dye) for an audition video. People asked him to put together a video of him making an everyday activity look orgasm-worthy and this is what he came up with. Strangely enough, this is exactly what coffee hour at Ryan Gaycrest’s office looks like. This is also what Corbin Fisher’s class of 2011 15th reunion is going to look like.