The Only Way Is Elegance

If the lady behind you is not preparing her nostrils for the scented current of snatch that is about to blow her way, then you’re working the red carpet wrong. This is Lauren Pope, of the British reality mess The Only Way Is Essex, at last night’s London premiere of Twatlight: Breaking Hymens, Part 1.

For those refined ladies out there who want to look like their body is luxuriating in expensive glamour but don’t have the budget for it, take an economical styling tip from Lauren Pope. Sneak into your local brothel, rip two satin curtain panels from their rods, slap one on each side of your body, cinch it together with a luggage belt around your waist and BAM! Lauren calls it “The Scarlett O’Whorah.” You don’t even need double-sided tape to keep your dress from flying up and exposing the goods for free. Just do what Lauren did and dab a little of your natural coochie glue on your thigh.

Not wearing panties will tell the world that you’ve got a resilient pussy that can handle the elements and your labia lips flapping in the night wind will provide a romantic soundtrack. This ensemble is everything. Thank you, Lauren.

Lauren is the only Pope we should be worshiping.

And So It Begins….

At last night’s TIFF premiere of The Ides of March, Stacy Keibler’s temp job as George Clooney’s piece of the moment officially started. I’m sure Stacy got a passing grade during her first day on the job review since she followed the two rules: try to look as hot as possible and swallow the word “marriage” if it ever tries to crawl up your throat and jump out of your mouth.

While wearing a 90s black velvet dress from the archive closet of Contempo Casuals, Stacy posed by herself on the stroll and kept her words to a minimum when hos asked about George. Like when People asked her what she liked about George, all she said was this:

“Everything!”

Good answer, bitch. The professional trainers in the Hos of George Clooney Division at the Manpower temp agency trained her well. But the Miss Cleo in all of us (and there is a Miss Cleo in all of us) knows how this is going to play out. Stacy is all smiley and quiet now, but it’s only a matter of time before she starts to get bold and casually lets out the danger word that forces George’s b-hole to push out the strap-on and snap for security to bring empty cardboard boxes for her shit. Then before she knows it, Stacy is standing in the hallway of The George Clooney Halfway House For Dumped Girlfriends waiting for Sarah Larson to hang up the payphone after she finds out if her manager at the Hawaiian Tropic Zone is going to give her another shift.

Milk that shit while you can, Stacy. It’s obvious who George is really going to end up with. No, not Brad Pitt. I’m talking about this loyal homegirl right here:

Your mama is going to make George Clooney happier than anybody ever could!

Here’s more from last night’s Ides of March thing. In order: Stacy Keebler Elf, The Clooney, Ryan Gosling with his mama, Evan Rachel Wood (thinking she’s Madonna at the end of the Open Your Heart video), Dave Matthews, Marisa Tomei and Kate Mara with Max Minghella.

Work Those Vaccine-Free Titty Balls, Jenny McCarthy!

While Jim Carrey continues to dig an underground tunnel from his basement to the bottom of Emma Stone’s dirty laundry hamper, his ex-piece and Autism activist Jenny McCarthy busted out a “chichi bags out, hip to the side pose” (you can learn about on page 16 in Bikini Photo-Op Posing for Dummies) while out with her new dude in Malibu yesterday.

Yes, Jenny’s dude looks he screams “bada bing, baby!” when he’s about to cum and his lube of choice is probably made by AXE, but his body has one of my favorite kind of man stomachs on it. You know, he has one of those sampler stomachs. If you want to knock your tongue against a half six-pack, he’s got that for you. If you prefer your man guts the same way you prefer your Whoopee cushions (rubbery and bloated), then he’s got that for you too. The best of both worlds.

And those of you hating bitches out there who are reading Jenny McCarthy’s body its rights, you should know that she got that body from doing lots of yoga. Okay? Yeah, more like yogatthatbodyfromtheplasticsurgeonbitch.

Strut Strut Struttin’ That Ass

Here’s Ryan Gosling struttin’ his ass away from a bunch of gawkers who are ooh-ing and aah-ing at how awesome it is that every time they watch the hipster ninja walk away, a song by a band they’ve never heard of plays in their head and their tongue suddenly feels like it just licked the foam off of a can of Pabst. Seriously, when Ryan struts, a wannabe hipster gets his first skinny jeans.

It was just a regular day in the life for Ryan Gosling in NYC yesterday. Ryan made like a moose face to the paps during an iced tea break and then posed for the default Facebook profile picture of a handful of fans. Meanwhile, Ryan’s Benji dog rolled his eyes on the inside wishing that his owner would stop mean mugging at the paps so that they’d go away and he can caca on the sidewalk in peace without the world knowing what his shit looks like. Think of Benji dog for once, Ryan.

Sit Down, Brangie

Just over a week ago, Rachel Weisz and Daniel Craig totally fucked up tied the knot out of the blue in a private ceremony. From what The New York Post reports, while the rest of the world was going “WHAAA? They had totally different SO’s a few months ago!” her neighbors in the Catskills said they knew that shit was coming. Check out this quote from “a source” (damn, that bitch gets AROUND):

“I saw them in the local grocery store, Emmanuel’s Market Place. They looked like the world’s hottest couple…They were casually dressed, then Daniel suddenly pulled Rachel to him in the middle of produce and gave her a passionate kiss, right next to the bananas. They looked more in love and sexier than Brad and Angelina.”

HAHAHA IN YO FACE, BRAD AND ANGIE!!! SOURCE totally owned your ass! Actually, no, that’s not really saying much since current Brangie is only sexy if you get turned on looking at a plate of boiled bratwurst with a botoxed chopstick and some wax lips on it. I think the funniest and sessiest part of this quote is the detail that they did it by the bananas! SUGGESTIVE. Move over cucumbers, there is a new king of phallic produce!

There were also reports of them PDAing all over each other at the local gym. Before you say “Pinche putas!! A minute ago, he was engaged and she was shacked up for the last 8 years with her baby daddy!” (like you really knew that shit since you get all your news on Dlisted), they dated briefly 20 years ago and recently fell back in love with each other’s privates while working together on “Dream House” last year. So technically, they have the longest relationship in the history of Hollywood. HOT.

Lenny Kravitz Prefers The Classics

Looking like the bouncer to the apocalypse gateway, Lenny Kravitz strut his ass all around SoHo in NYC yesterday afternoon while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. You know, I prefer Lenny’s old timey rotary shit (made by Alexander Graham LOOKATME) to the Bluetooth crap that makes hos act and look like crazed schizophrenics. But my only complaint about this mess is how big that phone is. You know how much space that takes up in his manpurse?! It could at least serve other purposes. It should be a phone dildo! Or a phone flask! Or better yet, a dildo phone flask (“Can you fuck me now?”)! Now that is a real invention!