I couldn’t leave the site with a Kim Kardashian in her bikini pic. I may hate this shit and more importantly hate you, but not enough to do that to even my worst enemy, because you see, she’s the fucking devil, while Candice Swanepoel, is an angel, at least that’s what the marketing people at Victoria’s Secret who own her, want me to believe, they even use it as her twitter and instagram handle, that I am sure she doesn’t run, or check, but who instead has a team of people managing, cuz she’s too busy debunking the lies that are HIV…..or whatever it is that she does while sitting on all her money…. These are a couple pics she posted today from her shoot….
Are those cries of pain or pleasure. The same sounds she made when Marilyn Manson was discussing his role as Paul from the Wonder Years while deep in her asshole with some cryptic vampire tool in efforts to make his bullshit seem more authentic, or are they the sounds she learned from Marilyn Manson when he’d take off his costume and stage act and listen to his music, trying to cleanse himself of the lie he’s become with all his money he traded his integrity for…. What it comes down to is that all I know abou Evan Rachel Wood is that she bangned Marilyn Manson… Oh and she had a nude scene in MILDREd PIERCE and was TOPLESS IN FLAUNT and that she’s getting her nose pierced on the internet in video making cries I could probably climax to….but then again, I can climax to anything.
Karlie Kloss is a model, but then again who isn’t a fucking model. I seems like every girl I know is a model, thinks she is a model, acts like a model, or poses like a model for her facebook profile/instagram, that the whole model thing is getting boring, and I’m more into girls who aren’t models, the good old scared of the camera kind of insecure pussy you can really take advantage of and who I can hang out with and not get annoyed of all the fucking picture taking, because not everything needs to be documented, and bitch, you’re not hot enough to justify using all that film up, oh right, we don’t have film anymore, and that’s the fucking problem with this photo revolution, it’s the accessibility of the shit making everyone a model and photographer cuz it is free but still no one willing to send me fucking nudes…
Mila Kunis would be a more believable housewife from the 1960s, you know all wholesome and well behaved, all Emily Post school of etiquette trained always ready to treat her man like her boss and manager her house the way it is supposed to be managed….if she wasn’t such a whore. You know the whole probably HIV Positive thanks to Culkin kinda throws off the authenticity of this shoot and even the fantasy of this shoot since AIDS didn’t exist in the 60s. The government hadn’t implemented population control diseases to rid the world of gays and blacks yet. The only thing realistic about this shit is that she’s old enough to be a housewife. Garbage.
Aubrey O’Day is disgusting. I normally like fat chicks in thongs for the comedic relief alone, but I don’t find it funny when this bitch is doing it, I just find it depressing that she has to try this hard, like a little whore who isn’t so little anymore, when her body can’t support her strategy, at least not for my eyes, but then again, I’m not her black male who will fuck anything white whether it can sing or dance or hold good coversation or not target audience…. I guess I just like my whoring less strategic marketing moves, and more fit. TO SEE THE REST OF THE PICS FOLLOW THIS LINK
I haven’t seen one of these in a long time, not a vagina in panties, but Lindsay Lohan’s vagina in panties, mainly becasue no one gives a fuck about Lindsay Lohan, even though she wants us to, otherwise she would have left LA and taken her millions of dollars to live a quiet life in an amazing place at 25, but I guess that wouldn’t have been good enough for this spoiled brat, instead, she decided to stick around, burn through her money, take shitty roles in movies, hang with shitty people, make shitty underwear choices, in just one pile of fucking shit she deservers because she’s an evil, horrible, self absorbed cunt I’d like to get pregnant, or at least try to get herpes from, cuz she’s still Lindsay Lohan and that alone makes her lovely. TO SEE THE REST OF THE PICS FOLLOW THIS LINK
Michael Winterbottom, one of the most fascinating and idiosyncratic filmmakers of our age, makes so many movies that some of them creep into festivals very quietly and, just as quietly, creep out, never to be seen again. That wasn’t the case with The Trip , for my money one of the most intriguing pictures of 2011, a woolly exploration of middle-aged angst that featured Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon (as themselves) bickering and trading Sean Connery impersonations as they made their way through the English countryside. But two years before that, in 2008, Winterbottom brought a picture called Genova to the Toronto International Film Festival. The picture, a mildly engaging drama in which Colin Firth plays a father who moves his family to Italy after the death of their mother, never got a U.S. release, fading like the worn face of a stone saint on a medieval church. Fortunately, Winterbottom’s latest, Trishna , a retelling of Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles set in contemporary India, hasn’t met the same fate. And though it’s a bit of an oddity, it’s an affecting curio suitable for both Hardy enthusiasts and Winterbottom fans alike. Freida Pinto is Trishna, the Tess character, who comes from an impoverished family living in a small village. Jay (Riz Ahmed), is her Angel/Alec (Hardy purists should be warned that the two characters have been condensed into one, perhaps a bit clumsily), a man who sweeps her away from her life of poverty, only to end up resenting and degrading her. Even if Winterbottom has taken what some might consider unforgivable liberties with the story, Trishna works: Winterbottom has a feel for the story’s landscape, including the hardscrabble beauty of the countryside, all yellow dust and scrubby trees. It’s both a place Trishna needs to escape from and it’s home — there’s no safety or freedom there, but it’s the only place she’s truly herself. Pinto gives a lovely performance here. No other role she’s been given — as the hero’s dream woman in Slumdog Millionaire, or as a Palestinian orphan girl in Julian Schnabel’s deeply disappointing Miral — has asked as much of her, and she greets the challenge boldly. In the barest terms of the plot, Trishna is a victim, a tragic heroine, but Pinto always lets you see the character’s immovable self-assurance shimmering beneath the surface — that’s the very thing that threatens her lover and tormentor, and brings about her downfall. In Winterbottom’s scenario, Jay’s sudden turn against Trishna isn’t believable or readable in movie terms — his love for her appears to be operated by a switch that turns off abruptly without cause or reason — but it makes sense in the grander scheme of the impossibility of love. The dialogue here is mostly improvised — this is a casual, hip-pocket approach to a revered classic — but Winterbottom keeps the story moving deftly. We might appreciate Winterbottom more if he worked less, but he’s unlike any other filmmaker on the landscape, trying something new just about every year. Some of it sticks and some of it doesn’t. But almost always, he gives us something worth looking at. Editor’s note: Portions of this review appeared earlier in Stephanie Zacharek’s Toronto International Film Festival coverage.
‘I’ve been spittin’ about the streets and makin’ my money, and that’s how I’m gonna continue to do it till I can’t do it no more,’ Meek tells MTV News. By Rob Markman Meek Mill Photo: MTV News
Are you surprised to see Emma Roberts walking around looking upset in a pair of short shorts and an ironic hipster t-shirt? Me neither. This chick has so much potential, she’s got good genes, but she seems to have fallen into the wrong fashion crowd. Although, she does like to show off those really long, skinny legs of hers, so that’s alright. This outfit with some of those clear stripper heels, a bikini top and a tan, and a couple of half naked Korean hookers and we’ve got ourselves a photoshoot. Hot.
If you’ve ever been envious of the lives that soccer players live, you’re about to get really upset. Here’s soccer wife Sylvie Van der Vaart hanging out in the pool with her freaky Dutch international footballer husband. Not only is he a millionaire superstar athlete, but he gets to go up for headers with this hot piece any time he wants. It’s just not fair. Does he have his own blog? I don’t think so jack! Where’s my half naked former model who does nothing but spend my money and hang out in a bikini?
