“Incel Hero” Jordan Peterson Cried When Asked About Olivia Wilde Modeling Chris Pine’s “Don’t Worry Darling” Character After Him

One of the scarier subcultures to come out of the batshit crazy political climate we’ve been living through are “incels,” or basically a group of angry, conservative, undesirable men whining on the internet about being utterly unfuckable and how it’s all women’s fault. Dr. Jordan B. Peterson, a Canadian psychologist, often spews rhetoric the incels agree with and makes them feel smart when regurgitating his blather, so he’s emerged as a leader of the incel community. And because Don’t Worry Darling accounts for 97% of all current drama, here we are. Olivia Wilde, still making the rounds promoting DWD–now talking about the actual film rather than the conflicts in the cast and crew–recently said that she based Chris Pine’s character, Frank, around “insane, pseudo-intellectual hero” Jordan Peterson. Jordan recently appeared on Piers Morgan Uncensored and broke down in tears when asked his thoughts about inspiring the unsavory character.

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Sharon Stone Stopped Drinking Because She’s Afraid It Will Give A Case Of The Hags

Allow me to save you some time and about $4.99: if this picture of 56-year-old Sharon Stone looking smoother than a piece of wax fruit on the cover of Shape is any indication, that article on how to ‘Age-Proof Your Body’ is probably just a 2-page advertorial from Adobe Photoshop. Step 1: Pick the Gaussian Blur tool and apply a shit-ton of it to an old picture of your face. But Sharon Stone is warning Shape readers (via The Daily Mail) that sometimes there isn’t enough Photoshop in the world to trick you into thinking the wrinkly face of death isn’t creeping up on you:

“There was a point in my 40s where I went into the bathroom with a bottle of wine, locked the door, and said, ‘I’m not coming out until I can totally accept the way I look right now.’ And I examined my face in the magnifying mirror, and I looked at my body, and I cried and cried and cried. Then I said to myself, “You’re going to get old now. How do you want to do that?”

After calling her housekeeper to help lift her up from the dramatic fetal position in the bottom of the shower, Sharon said she decided to start fighting her age by eating a high-protein diet full of steak and fish (“I’d like a word with you” – her butthole) and hitting the gym. She also dared to utter the following blasphemous words:

“I used to love wine, but I don’t drink at all now. I think, at a certain point, it’s better for women not to have any alcohol because it can make your face, breasts and midsection get very bloated.”

Nope. Wrong wrong wrong. Wine would never do that; wine wraps itself around you in your time of need and loves you unconditionally, whispering You Look Bee-yoo-teeful deep into the hear-holes of your soul. Sharon must have been doing wine wrong; wine only bloats you out like Melissa Gorga in a fat suit if you’re washing down a Costco tin of double-salt popcorn with 2-3 bottles every night. But if you alternate each bottle of wine with a glass of water or Baileys, and refuse to look directly into a mirror, you won’t turn into a sad, bloated boozy mess (at least that’s the system that works best for me).