The MTV Movie Awards was an unnecessary pile of useless dingles, but it was still the best thing MTV has aired in years and that's because during the Twatlight and Hunger Games appreciation ceremony, chronic panty cream-inducer Joe ManJello came out as Big Dick Richie, his character from Magic Mike, to give the "Most Transformed" award to Elizabeth Banks for wearing a pink wig in THG.
Never mind that Joe ManJello basically called your vagina and my no-no hole an ax wound (that's what my doctor calls it, so I'm used to it) by wielding a giant ax around like it was his dick, why did Matthew McConaughey and Channing Tatum stay on the stage when he came out? How can one fully fap to Joe ManJello when Matthew's T-Rex arms and Channing Tatum are in the same shot? I can't focus on Joe when I'm too busy wondering why Channing Tatum is starting to look like a bloated 35-year-old high school gym teacher who always drunkenly cries about how he had to turn down an invitation to the NFL tryouts because his girlfriend got knocked up.
And is it wrong of me to secretly wish that Joe ManJello's film and TV career dries up so that he has to start doing hardcore gay porn to pay his gym membership and protein shake bills? I mean, with cum gutters like those.....
If a movie poster doesn't look like it should be printed on 3x4 glossy card stock and passed out by a twink in a sleeveless shirt in front of Micky's on Santa Monica Blvd., we don't need it! The Magic Mike hos obviously get that, because here's the A for effort, low-budget poster for that cinematic bulge party camouflaged as a movie (I'm hoping). This is some Village People night at your mom's favorite club shit. This movie better not let me or my Saran-wrapped parts (I care about the cleanliness of movie theater seats) down. It better be like an episode of Dancing Bear. (Google that at lunch on your iPhone when you're in the comfort of the last stall in your office bathroom).
And here's some pictures of Joe ManJello flexing his He-Man doll body in Men's Health UK. The things your Photoshop is going to do to that picture of him with the tire. Adobe should just go ahead and add a "replace tire with muscle bottom" tool in Photoshop.
If your internet connection is going in and out this morning, that's because Kim Kardashian is furiously refreshing The Paperboy page on Fandango until the BUY TICKETS button comes up, because that bladder wine-loving heffa wants to buy ALL the tickets! If Lee Daniels' upcoming movie The Butler (co-starring Matthew McConaughey as John Fucking Kennedy) is going to be a major shit show, then his new movie The Paperboy is the piss stream before the dump. The Paperboy made its debut at Cannes this week and so far many of the critics have declared it a campy piece of utter shit. That means I can confidently say that The Paperboy is going to be my favorite cinematic masterpiss of 2012!
The Paperboy is based on the novel by Peter Dexter and follows two brothers, the Texas T-Rex and Zac Efron, as they investigate (Princess Zac as an investigator? HA!) the case of a death row inmate played by John Cusack. This is the part that is already making me hand over my credit card number to buy a ticket. Nicole Kidman plays a trashy, sex crazed tramp who is obsessed with John Cusack's character and wants to marry him. With Nicole's help, Zac and Matthew try to figure out if John Cusack committed the murder he was convicted of. Vulture says that in the scene where Nicole first meets John Cusack face-to-face, she is so horny for him that she rips off her pantyhose before her pussy explodes into a hand-free orgasm. Please tell me that after Nicole's coochie seizure moment, Zac snaps his fingers and says, "Guuuurrrl, I'll have what she's having!"
As for that scene where Nicole R. Kellys Zac, I'll let Vulture give it to you:
Later in the movie, as Efron's romantic ardor for Kidman is at its peak, the two head to the beach, where he decides to cool down with a dip in the ocean. Naturally, he is attacked by CG jellyfish. (Only the sixteenth weirdest thing to happen in this movie.) Covered in sting marks, he barely manages to drag himself to shore, and when Kidman is alerted to the attack by some comely girls who surround Efron, she pushes them away, pops a squat, and out comes number-one. And yes, you get a close-up of the stream. This is a movie that often seems to be missing important transitional scenes or specific inserts, but you had better believe that when Nicole Kidman pees on Zac Efron, that camera is there.
Thank the Maybelline Gods for waterproof foundation, because if Zac's "maybe she's born with it" face got messed up in the making of that AFI-worthy moment, he would've had a hissy fit over that...pissy fit (sorry).
And I'm calling it right now. The Oscar goes to......Nicole Kidman's piss stream!
Here's Zac Efron still glowing from his golden shower facial at The Paperboy photocall with human marble pillar Nicole Kidman, Macy Gray, Matthew McConaughey and John Cusack.
If you're the Alabama Leprechaun and you're looking for the wrong stuff to smoke, head directly to the casting office for The Butler, because they're obviously tripping into new dimensions over there. They're tripping so hard that they've frolicked into a new world where casting Minka Kelly and Matthew McConaughey as the Kennedys makes sense. Because it makes zero sense in this world. R. Kelly and Rooster McConaughey as Jackie & John makes more sense than this mess.
Indiewire has blown out a crack cloud in the form of news that the Leighton Meester impersonator and the Texas T-Rex will join Forrest Whitaker, Oprah, Cuba Gooding Jr., Lenny Kravitz, Terrence Howard, Alan Rickman (as Ronald Reagan), Jane Fonda (as Nancy Reagan), John Cusack (as Nixon) and Nicole Kidman's forehead (as The White House) in The Butler. Lee Daniels, who directed Precious, will direct the story of the White House butler (played by Forrest Whitaker) who served eight presidents from 1952 to 1986. But who the hell cares about the story! My ears are too busy curling at the thought of Matthew McConaughey trying to turn his extra slow drawl into JFK's accent. It's going to sound like what would hit your ears if a stoned Forrest Gump was in The Departed.
Terrible accents aside, 99% of this movie's budget is going to go toward turning these hos into the people they're supposed to be playing using the same shit the Kardashians smear their faces with (sandbox indian clay, terracotta epoxy putty and shark cartilage). To save money, Lee Daniels should just fire everybody and cast this movie from Disney World's Hall of Presidents. It'd be cheaper and the performances would definitely be better.
Because your Facebook feed isn't already filled with a bunch of sappy bitches slobbering over how their pieces went to Jared and slipped an engagement ring on their finger over the Christmas holiday, here's another one to keep your heaves going. No, this isn't a picture of Blanket Jackson getting the life sucked out of him by a Dr. Evil on roids. It's everyone's favorite bongo-playing stoner Matthew McConaughey kissing on the mother of his 2 chirruns, Camila Alves, after proposing to her on Christmas Day. Today, the definition of "precious" is the image of Matthew getting down on one knee, pulling out a shiny marijuana leaf ring and trying to put it on Camila's finger with those tiny T-Rex arms of his. I bet bitch couldn't reach and had to use a grabber. Matthew Twatted this afterward:
Just asked camila to marry me, #MerryChristmas
Matthew and Camile have a 3-year-old son named Levi and an almost 2-year-old named Vida, so some whores are saying throwing these two a "WHY BOTHER?!" side-eye. But just because they already made two baby friends together doesn't mean they no longer have the right to ruin each other's lives by getting married! So I say, congratulations, and I also say, DAMN FUCK THAT'S A BIG ASS HEAD. It's almost like a Kardashian goiter.
My skin is almost the same shade as Matthew McConaughey's after laying my eyeballs on these pictures of his mother Kay McCabe raising her dress (from Coldwater Creek's Freak in the Streets Collection) and flashing her nude chonies at the Hollywood premiere of Abraham Lincoln Log Lawyer (or whatever the hell that shit is called) last night. Sometimes when there's not a subway grate around for you to stand over, you have to create your own Some Like It Hot moment. The best part is that Kay served up her goodies while posing next to her son Rooster. Rooster is like, "Cock-a-doodle-don't, mom!" But thank the hell she cock-a-doodle-did, because Kay definitely brought the heat. If this is what happens when you mix Metamucil and Four Loko, serve it to all of our grannies and grandpas!
A little warning though: you might want to cut eye holes in a fireproof blanket and throw it over your head before looking at all these pictures of Kay. Because if you don't, the fire blowing off of Kay's legs will leave you with the complexion of burnt Indian clay like Matthew McConaughey, and now me.
And believe it or not, other people actually showed up to last night's premiere even though Kay is really the one who matters. In order-ish: Matthew McGreasyhey, Camila Alves, Frances Fisher, Miss Kay with Rooster and Ryan Phillipe.
Meanwhile, I've got two pairs of nipple warmers on, I've practically got a heating pad shoved into my ass crack and here's this motherfucker jogging and playing with his son in Malibu like he has no idea what cold feels like. THAT BITCH is totally teasing those of us who are living on Snow Miser's taint right now by wearing a beanie on his head. You know, because he has the choice and we don't. Or maybe he just doesn't want to burn his plugs. Whatever. I still can't be mad at Matthew McConaughey, because the world will stop spinning if he doesn't aim his bare nipples at the sun at least once a month.
Matthew McConaughey's natural scent of fermented armpit jelly, patchouli oil, weed smoke, taint fromage and sweat can never be masked, so I'm not sure why Dolce & Gabbana asked him to be the face of their new cologne. But they kept the fuckery going by using the "THINNING CURSE" tool on his head before cutting and pasting it onto the body of a svelte dandy with delicate hands that only touch silk. I mean, like Matthew's real arms are even long enough for him to touch his neck anyways. Bitch please!
The pose is way too "grab my smelling salts" for Matthew to pull off. Was Chace Crawford not available?
Outside of a restaurant in Milan the other night, Morgan Freeman just couldn't contain his desire to kiss and nipple-grab Matthew McConaughey. Git it, pepaw! Git on that bitch as if he was your step-granddaughter!
Every time somebody whispers that JLo and Skeletor are now members of Tommy Girl's Church of Anti-Glibness, she gets her assistants to use both of their hands to pull her ass cheeks apart so that she can fart on that rumor. But I'm not sure if I'm buying JLo's denials anymore, because what are those thought-stealing nodes she wore on her body to the Hope Gala in NYC last night? SCIENTOLOGY PROBES (those two words together makes Tommy Girl drip from all his orifices every time) that's what those are!
But seriously, you might be wondering why (probably not) JLo isn't screaming in pain from those rings digging into her flesh. Eh. JLo stopped feeling pain along time ago. It's obvious since she's the only one who isn't trying to dig out her ear drums with her bare fingers whenever her songs come on. JLo feels no pain.
Here's more of JLo with Skeletor at last night's charity thing along with Selita Ebanks, Matthew McConaughey with Ms. Hair Iz Important, Jill Zarin with Grandma Wrinkles' oil applier, Kathy Griffin and Giant Snooki.