Anne Hathaway’s Husband Puts His Mouth On Her Toe After She Almost Drowns To Death

“Yes, honey, bow down and kiss those Oscar-winning feet with tongue, bitch...”

While vacationing in Hawaii, Anne Hathaway went for a little swim in the ocean and it was all fun times until she lived through my nightmare. The paps say she got caught in a riptide and while she was trying to keep herself from drowning, she cut her foot on a reef. This is why I can’t with the ocean. My mother’s side of the family would go to the beach in Ensenada, Mexico almost every summer together. The ocean and I go together as well as grammar and I go to together, so of course I almost drowned one year. I got pulled under and the crashing waves wouldn’t let me come up. I thought I was going to drown and become a not-so-satisfying meal for Mexican sharks. But I somehow got out of there, ran up to shore and cried into the lap of my older cousin who was eating a sweet tamale. I cried and told her that the Grim Reaper almost rode by on a jet ski to collect my soul. I poured my scarred emotions and a whole lot of saltwater onto her. She rolled her eyes at me and said, “Stop being so dramatic and don’t even ask for a bite of this tamale.” Vicious sweet tamale-eating bitch! I’ll never forgive her for that. And by “that” I mean refusing to share her sweet tamale with me, not the “rolling her eyes at my near death experience” thing.

Anyway, after Anne screamed for help, a surfer saved her ass and brought her to shore. Anne’s husband, who always gives me “if Ryan Gosling bareback fucked a son into Alice the Goon” vibes, put on his imaginary nurse hat and tended to the cut on her foot. I don’t know if he’s kissing her owie or if he’s pulling some “if Quentin Tarantino was a vampire” shit by sucking the blood out of her toe. They’re both boring, so it’s probably the former.

Pics: FameFlynet

Jason Momoa And His Ex-Piece Are Real Friendly With Each Other

While hanging outside of a house party in Beverly Hills on Saturday, human mountain of muscles and wolf hair, Jason Momoa, “canoodled” and touched lips with a piece who was not his wife Lisa Bonet. I think this is the best place for me to put the ClairHuxtableSideEyeAndFingerOnChin.GIF.

The NYDN news says that the ginger trick (who sort of gives me shades of Big Brother Rachel) is Jason’s ex-fiancee Simmone MacKinnon. Some source says that this is just a St. Angie and James Haven-style friendly kiss of love and they’re not bumping wet parts. They’re just friends, so Jaleesa doesn’t need to hold Denise’s bag while she whips a whore with her dreads. (Not that Lisa Bonet would give three shits about this.)

You know, those pictures are actually pretty tame and G-rated and not that big of a deal. You can tell that Simmone really does only see his hot ass as a friend. Because every human behavioral scientist will tell you that when greeting Jason Momoa, any peen-loving chick who feels things in her loins would grab her grappling hooks, climb his body, wrap her legs around his neck and say “hello” by kissing him on the mouth with her other lips, and she’d slip him the tongue. So there’s nothing to see here. Moving on!

Pics: Splash

Jean-Claude Van Damme Does The Splits On Two Reversing Volvo Trucks To An Enya Song

I took a beginners yoga class once and the instructor said something like maybe one day we’ll all get so advanced that we can learn the Monkey Pose (aka the splits pose). She was selling me a goal I wasn’t into. Why the hell would I want to learn how to do the splits? If I suddenly grew a second asshole on my taint, then I’d want to learn how to do the splits. But now there’s another reason to learn the splits. If I learned how to do the splits, I could do it on two reversing Vulvo (typo and it stays) trucks while an Enya song plays in the background, which is exactly what Jean-Claude Van Damme is doing in this commercial.

Jean-Claude Van Damme may be a douchebag full of used enema fluid, but I have to give him credit for keeping calm while the future of his nuts lay on two reversing Volvo trucks. The PR whore for Volvo Trucks brand claims that zero CGI was used in the commercial and they shot it in one take. I love it, but I’d love it even more if toward the end of the commercial one of the trucks suddenly swerved to avoid a family of ducks waddling across the road.

Emma Thompson Forgives Helena Bonham Carter For Being Kenneth Branagh’s Side Piece

Looking at that picture again, it’s obvious that Emma Thompson is saying to Helena Bonham Carter, “….why you little home wrecking hussy whore, I can smell my husband’s musty nutsack on your bref from here,” while a blurry evil stepmother-like bad influence on HBC’s shoulder says to her, “Fuck her, get that uncut dick, honey.” It all makes sense now.

All they back in 1995, Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh’s marriage died and the rumor was that it ended after she found out he stuck his wayward dick in Helena Bonham Carter’s crumpet. At the time, Emma and Kenneth were married for 6 years and she had worked with HBC in Howard’s End. Kenneth then did Emma wrong by doing HBC while shooting Frankenstein and the two stayed together until 1999. Emma hasn’t really talked about how she was the British Jennifer Aniston of her time, but in the Sunday Times (via The Daily Mail) she says that she forgives HBC and the two made nice years ago.

On letting go of any rage she felt for HBC: “You can’t hold on to anything like that. It’s pointless. I haven’t got the energy for it. Helena and I made our peace years and years ago.”

On how she used her hurt feelings to play a wronged wife in Love Actually: “I’ve had so much bloody practice at crying in a bedroom, then having to go out and be cheerful, gathering up the pieces of my heart and putting them in a drawer.”

On how she and HBC are kind of alike: “Being slightly mad and a bit fashion-challenged. Perhaps that’s why Ken loved us both. She’s a wonderful woman, Helena.”

Emma probably blessed Kenneth and HBC with her forgiveness after she made DanRad, Emma Watson and the ginger one hold them down while she choked them out on the Harry Potter set. But seriously, yes, Emma Thompson is a shiny jewel lying on top of life’s greatest treasures, but it’s probably semi-easy to forgive Helena Bonham Carter and that whore Kenneth Branagh when you can wipe your tears with Greg Wise’s dick almost anytime you want.

And the real story here is that we haven’t given HBC the credit she truly deserves. HBC scooted on Kenneth Branagh’s married peen and she supposedly got on Tim Burton when he was engaged to Lisa Marie. I’ve always said that Sienna Miller is the home wrecking hero of Britain when HBC passed her sledgehammer baton to Sienna. Forgive me for not knowing my British home wrecking history, HBC!

The Time Michelle Pfeiffer Was In A Cult Of Breatharians

Long before Michelle Pfeiffer maintained her beauty and strength by catching baby deer in the wild and sucking their blood under a full moon (Wolf was a documentary), she hooked up with a cult of crazies who believed that humans only needed a diet of sunshine and air to survive. It’s kind of funny that insane bitches who only eat air for breakfast, lunch and dinner don’t get that much oxygen to their brains.

Michelle tells The Sunday Telegraph’s Stella Magazine that when she first moved to Los Angeles from Orange County, she got involved with a couple who she describes as “personal trainers.” They were really into dieting and really into weights. Michelle says that she no idea that was she was a disciple of their cult even though they wanted to control her life and believed that humans in their highest state could survive without food and water.

“They worked with weights and put people on diets. Their thing was vegetarianism. They were very controlling. I wasn’t living with them but I was there a lot and they were always telling me I needed to come more. I had to pay for all the time I was there, so it was financially very draining. They believed that people in their highest state were breatharian.”

Dear Michelle, any trick who tells you that you don’t need donuts to survive is a minion of Satan and you better throw holy water at their faces before running far, far away. An evil whore who hates donuts is no friend of Jesus.

I guess Michelle was new to the whole “common sense” thing, because she didn’t realize she was involved in a cult until she met her first husband Peter Horton who had just been cast in a movie about the cult known as the Moonies. While helping Peter do research on Rev Moon Sun-myung’s Unification Church, she talked to ex-Moonies and the similiarties between their experience and her experience made her realize that she was involved in some wrong shit.

“We were talking with an ex-Moonie and he was describing the psychological manipulation and I just clicked.”

Michelle never names the cult she was involved with, but let’s put the clues together. They didn’t eat food, they didn’t drink water and they believed that air is the only nourishment your body needs. It’s obvious that the cult Michelle was involved with is called “the modeling industry.”

And Goopy Paltrow took a sip from her cup of organic beluga whale breath after saying, “What a weak bitch.“

The Crystal Enchantress Of The Ice Retired From Competitive Figure Skating

Before we get into the Crystal Enchantress of the Ice making ice rinks melt into a pool of tears by retiring, let’s talk about that picture. Here I was thinking that Johnny Wear goes to bed every night in a cocoon of Veet waxing strips and every morning, his husband rips them all off really fast so that his skin is always as smooth as a porn star’s anus. So yeah, that bear arm does not belong to him. The only fur that Johnny Weir likes on his body belongs to other animals.

As expected, Johnny Weir pulled off his crown, took his final bow and skated out of the world of competitive figure skating. Johnny never registered for the qualifier for Nationals, so there was no chance for him to make the Olympic team. Johnny announced his retirement on Today this morning and said that although he’s not going to spread the glitter at the Sochi Winter Olympics in Russia next year, he will be a correspondent for NBC. Johnny said that he’s too old to compete at his third Olympics. I’m pretty sure that NBC is still prejudiced against non-US IPs, so if you can’t see the video below, the only thing you need to know is that Johnny looks like Pee-wee Herman in Thurston Howell III drag.

Matt Lauer asked Johnny about supporting the Sochi Olympics even though the Russian government hates gays, and he said:

“I’m a gay American. I’ve married into a Russian family. I’ve been a longtime supporter of Russia, the culture, the country, the language, everything about Russia. While this law is a terrible thing that you can’t be gay publicly in Russia, I plan to be there in full support of our brothers and sisters there and not be afraid.

If I get arrested, I get arrested; if not, great, but our presence is needed. For all the Olympians that worked so hard, a boycott is just the worst thing that you could do to all these young people.”

I have mixed feelings about this shit, but I’m all for it if Johnny Weir uses only the lyrics to ABBA songs during his commentary and does all of his commentary in front of the Kremlin while wearing a sparkling rainbow bodysuit made of paint and rhinestones. I’d also love it if Johnny sat it front of five dancing go go boys who every ten minutes, stop, turn around, bend over and spread their cheeks to reveal their anus lips painted all the colors of the Olympic rings…but that might be overkill.

(Pic via Webstagram)