Open Post: Hosted By Ricky Martin In A Speedo

Oh, here’s Ricky Martin just casually hanging out in his Spandex swim chonies in front of a photographer, two assistants, a lighting team, four stylists, a nipple waxer, a pose coach, a bronzer applier and a hair person. Ricky Martin threw up this casual nipple-hardening picture of his dad bod on Instagram today and he should’ve left it at that, but he had to ruin the moment by vomiting up a chunky wave of hashtags.

#islander #beachbum #livemylifebarefoot #saltyhair #sandyfeet #speedo #sunga #up #early #earlybird WAKE UP GANG. #newweek #newyear #2016

Whenever I see a trick using that many hashtags, I just want to channel my inner Helen Sinclair and grab their hands while saying, “Don’t hashtag!” But Ricky did burp up one hashtag I can appreciate. I didn’t know what “sunga” meant until I Googled it. I got two definitions for it. The Sunga is a Brazilian-style swimsuit for dudes. “Sunga” is also the name for waxing the hair off of your nuts. via Urban Dictionary

male version of the brazilian wax, involving hair being waxed off the man’s balls, butt crack, butt cheeks and pubic region

I guess not all hashtags are annoying. Sometimes hashtags can give you the image of Ricky Martin’s freshly waxed b-hole.

Open Post: Hosted By Amanda Lepore And The Other Beauties Of The Life Ball

And here’s the porcelain figurine goddess that Courtney Stodden is trying to become one liquid plastic injection to the lips at a time.

Amanda Lepore recharged everyone’s power bars at the Life Ball, one of the biggest AIDS charity events, in Vienna yesterday when she gave them all kinds of life by strolling onto the carpet with luscious red lips that looked like a freshly bloomed Anthurium, exquisitely crafted brows that a chola will razor a bitch for and tits so high the angels could touch them with their toes. Amanda Lepore puts the Life in Life Ball. The Life Ball also brought out the likes of Conchita Wurst, Marcia Cross, Ricky Martin, Carmen Carrera, Courtney Love and Bill Clinton.

Yes, Bill Clinton and this generation’s Marilyn Monroe were at the same event. For Bill’s sake, I hope he brought a $1,200 cigar that was dipped in the world’s most expensive champagne and rolled in diamonds, because Amanda Lepore only allows the finest of finest things to touch her opulent body.

Pics: Wenn.com

What In The Name Of Slutty Morticia Addams Is Going On Here?

I know, how dare I compare singer Charli XCX and her messy pile of black mosquito netting to the exquisite goth glamour of shameless true blue slut Morticia Addams. I’m honestly hanging in my head in shame. And quite frankly, so should Charli XCX; the bar for pseudo-gothic skanky side-boob was set pretty high by Rose McGowan, so unless you’re planning on showing up in nothing but a thong and two spiders glued to your nipples, don’t even bother.

But because I believe in giving credit where credit’s due, Charli XCX gets a single clap of approval from me for at least trying to inject some trampy glamour into the 2014 Bill-bored Music Awardzzzz. The Tai to Iggy Azalea’s Cher must have had to check her invitation four times to see if she was at the right event, because everyone showed up to the Billboard Awards in Las Vegas in fancy-ass ball gowns and Grace Kelly-looking hair like it was the damn Oscars. Which is all kinds of “excuse you, bitch”-levels of wrong, because if any award show held in Las Vegas is on par with the Oscars, it’s the AVN Awards (DUH). Charl XCX is clearly wiser than her 21 years; she understood that the Billboard Awards are the Grammy Award’s nitrous-huffing burnout cousin and dressed appropriately.

Here’s more of Charli XCX wearing Hot Topic’s version of the slut dress (“Can you check in the back to see if we have any more of those Edgar Allan Poe-job dresses?”) at the Billboring Awardzzzz, as well as her partner in copyright infringement Iggy Azalea who chose classy over trashy (bad move, always choose trashy if you’ve got the ass for it), Jennifer Lopez showing us what the unedited pictures of her A.K.A. album cover looked like before she destroyed all evidence of their existence, the gas station bath salts Grace Kelly Kesha, Kanye’s old My Size Barbie Amber Rose in a pair of your Memaw’s solar shields, JOSH “oh, the things I would so would” GROBAN, and a super jacked-looking wig with guest (guest: Chrissy Teigen).

Pics: Splash

Ricky Martin And His Dude Of Four Years Are Over

And whenever I see a picture of Ricky Martin and his J. Crew catalog (I see those heather grey tees) looking family, I’m always reminded that his twin kids dress better than me and their hair game is next level. I think the one on the right is even wearing hair clay. My hair can’t even take hair clay. Damn that kid.

So, Ricky Martin’s spokeswhore queefed out a statement to People saying that after four years of doing each other, Ricky and his stock broker partner Carlos Gonzalez Abella are no longer doing each other full-time.

“Ricky and Carlos have mutually agreed to end their relationship but continue to be united by friendship and their shared experiences.”

The hell kind of cheesy statement is that? I hope that by “shared experiences” Ricky means the sex tape they shot together. I mean, it’s always a tragic day when two hot bitches break up. But it’s even more sad for us when they break up amicably. Because I want Ricky and Carlos to get into a fight, throw vases at each other and I want Ricky to scream LARGATE at Carlos before kicking him out of their mansion. Then I want Carlos to get revenge by leaking the fuck tape they made with bright lights and HD cameras. Is that too much to ask?!

Oh well, at least we’ll always have that picture of them shaking sand off of a towel together. (Sadly, “shaking sand off of a towel” is not a euphemism for something sexy.)

What In The Hell Kind Of GD Outfit Is This?

Usually, I’m all for a dress that makes eyes frantically search the chichis zone for a possible nipple slip situation, but I just can’t with the mess Jessica Chastain had on her body at the Doogie Howser SINGS! Show last night. To me, in interviews Jessica Chastain always comes off as a sweet, overexcited kitten whose eyes flare with potent glee at the sight of anything shiny, so I sort of understand why she decided to wear this shit. “SHINY! AH WANTS IT ON ME!” was probably Jessica’s first reaction to that fug mess. But it’s her friends, family and stylist’s job to gently sit on her something soft, hand her a cup of herbal tea and calmly tell her that the dress she chose makes her tits look like they fell into a coma after contracting a rare bedazzled bacteria infection. Even Jessica’s chichis are frowning at this look.

That dress has achieved the impossible by looking both slutty and frumpy. It’s like a whory memaw’s freakum dress. That dress is such a slut that it even comes with its own STD. Or maybe that shit on her dress is a sparkly green fungus only found in the enchanted forest or rotten eggs laid by a gay trout. I don’t know what it is, but I do know the free clinic should quarantine it and treat it with a topical ointment.

And Jessica made that mess look even worse by standing next to the epitome of glamorous perfection Bernadette Peters. Who let her do that and why do they hate Jessica so much?

Anyway, here’s a bunch of pictures from last night’s TONYs. In order: Jessica Cheststains with Bernadette Peters, Ellen Barkin (whose hairline should be studied by the Unexplained Mysteries people), Judith Light, Ricky Martin, NPH with his partner, Sheryl Crow, Amanda Seyfried, BP, Clair Huxtable, a pug in Endora drag, Stockard Channing, Audra McDonald, Linda Lavin and Hugh Jackmeoff with his feathered beard.

Man Nipples Galore

Yes, the man nipples features in this man nipple buffet are not man nipples I’d ever request, but it’s a slow as hell Monday and we have to take what we can get! When the paparazzi hands me pictures of Ricky Martin’s freshly waxed nipples, Eli Roth’s furry chest knobs, the nipples that Trudie Styler pinches during a 6-hour tantric orgy and the nipples that Alan Thicke’s sperm co-built, it is my duty to post them.

Plus, I had a serious week last week, because I had to blog from California while helping a relative deal with a shitty issue that they made me promise not to blog about. (Note: The word “shitty” in shitty issue is not to be taken literally, so don’t grab my hand and take me there. Don’t.) So this chest clitorises of men gallery is just what I need even if I’m never going to look at Braille dots the same way again thanks to Robin Thicke’s nipples.

Here’s more of Ricky Martin giving an invisible beej (during a concert in Amsterdam), Eli Roth (in Ischia, Italy), Sting (also in Ischia, Italy) and Robin Thicke with Paula Patton in Miami.