Jared Leto Is Free To Ride Again!

Now that Jared Leto has finally ripped the cockatoo from the top of his head, he can jump on his white wheels and ride through the city without having to worry about a flock of birds following his ass thinking they are migrating elsewhere or deal with annoying hags trying to fuck with his sexy by throwing pieces of bread at him. And even though he still dresses like a drag king doing the worst impersonation of SamRo ever, I’m glad that he’s hugging his hotness again.

Anyways, here’s a little more of Jared with his brother Shannon bike riding through Manhattan yesterday afternoon.

Jared Leto Finally Puts The Hot Pink Mohawk To Sleep

Jared Leto must have gotten sick of bitches throwing bird seed cut with Pop Rocks at the hot pink mohawk slowly sucking out his hotness from the pores on his scalp, because he finally bathed it in glue remover and put it to bed! Yes, Jared’s hair is very “SamRo going to a Mad Men-themed rave”, but at least it doesn’t give me the urge to slip on my Super Mario overalls and jump on top of it. Although, that’s not really a bad urge to have.

Now that Jared’s hair is looking like it walks amongst us in this dimension, he needs to stop taking fashion advice from a color blind raver who has ingested way too much glow stick juice and only buys accessories from the candy section at Toys “R” Us.

Here’s more of Jared with his 30 Seconds to Mars bandmates Shannen Leto and Mars Tomo at a press conference in Mexico City.

Vivien Leigh Knew How To Party

While Laurence Olivier was on the veranda petting the heads of one of his many pool boys, his wife Vivien Leigh was out leasing peen at the local gas station/whore house. This is according to a new ESCANDALOSO (not really) biography that claims the late Vivien Leigh was “a bi-polar and bi-sexual nympho.” File this under: We were all Vivien Leigh in our past lives. Hell, I think most of you are Vivien Leigh in your CURRENT lives.

Darwin Porter, a so-called friend of Vivien’s and co-author of the biography, writes that Scarlett O’Hara loved “rough trade” and slept with several of her co-stars including Marlon Brando, Rex Harrison and British actress Isabel Jeans.

Whether true or not, this is my favorite excerpt from this mess of a tell-all:

“In the 1940s, the world’s most recognizable star would drive down to Scotty’s (a notorious LA brothel that masqueraded as a gas station with one pump and 22 attendants) with her friend George Cukor, the initial director of ‘Gone With The Wind,’ and they would both pick out young men for the night

They would pay the men with gifts such as cigarette cases, jewels, or even stocks and bonds. She depended on the professional discretion of men not to boast they had just serviced Scarlett O’Hara.”

Don’t you wish you lived in the days where you could drive up to Scotty’s and buy a man whore with a nephrite cigarette case and a ruby bracelet off your own wrist? Nowadays, you have to buy a piece in the back alley of a Sunoco with a wad of wet tens and half of a meth rock.

The whores of yesteryear probably even apologized afterwards for giving you the clap. Those were the true days of class and elegance.

Source: New York Post via Jezebel

White Hot Fever

The sexiest witness of Jehovah was honored at the BET Awards last night for giving us a lifetime full of pussy-popping hip shimmies and dramatic facial expressions that make all your lips pucker. Prince graciously expected his award while wearing a tunic from Lisa Frank’s New Age collection with his own image on it. Only Prince (and Liza Minnelli….and the Golden Girls…and Steven Seagal) can get away with wearing a turtleneck with flared sleeves! Jehovah’s Witness should make that ensemble their official uniform. That would make me open up the door when they come a knocking.

Prince’s tribute also included a performance featuring Alicia Keys’s pregnant ass crawling on a piano, Patti LaBelle kicking her shoe off and Trey Songz making doves commit suicide. You can watch it here, but the real entertainment was going on in the audience courtesy of Prince. This is what the purple unicorn thought of Trey Songz acts of butchery:

AND THIS is what he emoted while watching Alicia Keys. This is the part where we takes notes.

Prince is reinventing the side-eye by adding a coy lip quiver. Sorry, Gabourey Sidibe, but the word “precious” is going back to Prince thanks to this move. The dude behind Prince knows what I’m talking about.

Helen Mirren’s Chichis! Why Not, Right?

*Images removed per request. Boooo*

Above is a picture of Helen Mirren from New York Magazine looking like she got caught going pee pee in the tub. It’s like her urethra is sending her brain a message like, “I’m not dooooone.” And after the jump below is a picture of a topless Helen Mirren in the tub. But before we go there, let’s read some quotes from Helen about her new movie Love Ranch (where she plays the madam of a pussy peddling emporium) and other things.

If you look at Helen’s nipples without reading the quotes, everyone can point at you and call you a PERVY PERV. But if you read the quotes first, you get college credit. Or something like that:

Helen on wanting to be a bad bad girl: “I’m a would-be rebel—the good girl who’d like to be a bad one. It’s true! I haven’t grown out of that, have I? I’m still the good girl who wants to be a bad girl. But I’ll never make it as a bad girl … I’m not a prude or a moralist and I never have been, but I’m too fearful, too much of a wimp, really.”

Helen on what she said when the director of the movie (who is also her husband) asked her to spend the night in a brothel: “I said, ‘Read my lips: I’m not going to spend a night in a brothel.’”

Helen on what she learned after she gave in and spent the night in a brothel: “It’s amazing how quickly you get into dildos everywhere and pink-feather handcuffs. Within an hour you’re completely used to it.”

Helen on psychotic whores: “Susan Austin [the Mustang Ranch’s real madam] said you had to be tough, because maybe you do have 25 psychotic whores. A lot of them come from very dysfunctional backgrounds, and women together like that can be very dangerous.”

Helen on female celebrities bringing ho shit to the forefront: “I’m thrilled young girls are claiming their sexuality for themselves. I love bold women: Madonna and Scarlett Johansson—sexy and gorgeous, but not only that. And Miley Cyrus—fantastic! And Lady Gaga. I love the way she’s elevated pop to performance art, or dragged performance art down to pop, or maybe made a wonderful amalgam of the two.”

I’m going to wash out the thought that Helen Mirren thinks Miley Cyrus and Lady Caca are “fantastic” with her nipple-infused bath water. After the jump is the NSFW of Helen Mirren in the tub. Since we usually only see 20-something titties around here, it’s nice to finally look at some well-seasoned chichis. Chichis who have seen some shit! Chichis who can write their own memoirs! Anyways, enough of my rambling.

UPDATE: I had to close the bathroom door on Helen Mirren’s chichis, but you can click here to see her.

Decisions…Decisions…

So here’s Prince William and Prince Hot Ginge trying not to laugh until their throats pop at David Beckham’s “Minnie Mouse passing a kidney stone” voice while the three hung out during a World Cup event in South Africa today. The three of them standing together like this brings up one question in my head: “Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

I didn’t have to dig that far up my no-no (“oh, look I found your missing sock“) to pull out the answer to that one. It’s easier than a Lohan. I would marry Prince Hot Ginge while fucking Becks which would temporarily kill Prince William’s eyesight. Actually, it would kill all of their eyeballs, but who cares about stupid details.