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This clip of Tom Hardy and McG on the set of This Means War is from the olden days of 2011, but I've never seen it before and I'm passing it along just in case you too haven't been blessed in the eyes with the image of a paintball punching Tom Hardy right in the nalgas. You know, Tom Hardy denies all the bi rumors, and this video proves that either he's telling the truth or he's a total 100% top. No, dude who is a bottom or vers would put the goods in danger like this. If you're going to take a quick pounding to the ass, it's best if you waddle away with your asshole still intact. Mostly intact, I mean. Picking pieces of your painted ass lips up off the floor is not a fun way to end a good time.

Having the ability to spit paint out of your b-hole is not a selling point on your Grindr profile, believe it or not. Wait, can paint be used a lube substitute?

(Thanks, Jeff)

In today's NSFW crossover episode between Memaw Is Not The One and Tales From Public Transportation, my new role model lays into some young trick on a SEPTA bus in Philadelphia and if I had to use one word to describe this it would be: MAGIC!

This memaw doesn't need to pull a switch out of her bag when she can verbally hit a ho with gems like "I'm not a stupid bitch like you!" and "You see this fist?" Leave it to the older and wiser generation to teach us that you don't need to punch your enemy to prove a point, you just need to call them a stupid bitch over and over again. Whenever I'm feeling low, I'll pick myself up again by thinking about how somewhere in Philadelphia this granny is serving some STANK on a young trick who just doesn't know.

Now, where can I get all the paperwork I need to legally adopt this poetic granny as my standby abuelita?

Source: BroBible via Gawker

Jesus be a Debbie Harry! Wearing a Dollar Tree mop head (or maybe that's the hide of a komondor puppy), Debbie Harry dropped her shit and scattered glittery shards of YES! at WIP Underground in NYC last night. With the help of DJ Miss Guy, Debbie brought everybody to church and my abuelita would be proud, because despite the fact that the Pope thinks my gay soul will eventually liquify into Satan's lube, I think I'm a born again Catholic now. T-shirts always tell the truth so that means Debbie's face will be immortalized in stained glass in every Catholic church and believers will start to see her face in toast. Sign me up! The father, the Debbie and the holy ghost....

Here's the official gemstone of Staten Island and the star of Mob Wives, Big Ang, showing the hos of Los Angeles what real beauty looks like as she strolled into Boa Steakhouse to make sweet love to one of the cow carcasses they hang in their freezer room. I don't know whether I want to watch Big Ang wrestle a pack of warthogs or watch her try to blow a bubblegum bubble without it popping on her baboon pussy lips. I'm falling in love all over again.

This is what it would look like if Sam the Eagle used Jackie Stallone's back alley plastic surgeon to look like a female Khloe Kardashian. I know, it was wrong of me to compare Big Ang to that beastly trash Khloe Kardashian. I should never do a gorgeous creature of an undermined species like that.

If your pussy has its own religion, is worshipped by billions, has been nailed repeatedly and has received gifts from wise men, then this NSFW song from DJ Pillow Queen will speak to you and your pussy on a spiritual level. Majela ZeZe Diamond, come get DJ Pillow Queen, and together you can take the Gospel According to Pussy circuit by storm!

via Jezebel

Mr. Ghetto has already caused many a Walmart shopper to check for ass dust on any products they wish to buy (Note: You should probably always check for ass dust at Walmart anyway.) and now he's back to ruin The Lion King for all of us. What did Simba ever do to Mr. Ghetto?! Any thoughts I had about this mess were swatted away by those bouncing leopard asses. I just want to lie down on the floor and wait until a stampede of wildebeest puts me out of my misery. I'm only passing this on to you, because I believe in the Circle of Fuckery. And what is the opposite of Hakuna Matata, because I have a lot of that after watching this.

(I hate you for this, Crunk + Disorderly)

The "LEGGINGZ R NOT PANTZ" rant I usually let out every time pictures of Xtina wearing Spandex sausage casings come out will never be directed at CoCo, because she's doing good work by stuffing herself into a pair of leggings that make her crotch look like a half open ebony oyster. When you pair CoCo's precious pearl pocket with one of Peg Bundy's old outfits, miracles happen. As soon as CoCo's blessed camel toe galloped in front of that line, the dude with the "music" tattoo he obviously regrets had a tattoo-free arm and that dude on the left who sort of looks like the fourth place winner in a Dr. Phil look-alike contest no longer looked like the fourth place winner in a Dr. Phil look-alike contest (meaning his stache fell off).

I used to think that those thuribles the Catholic priests sway around had burning incense in them, but now I know that holy smoke is really CoCo queefs.

What ever kind of medicinal good shit Joan Rivers was smoking on the last episode of Joan & Melissa needs to find its way vaporizer, because it took her on a messed up journey that ended with her getting into the hot tub with her clothes on and drinking chlorine water out of her shoe. I might believe this staged mess if Joan was a newbie stoner-in-training, but she's already admitted that she's smoked her fair share of heaven's blossom and she even toked her original face off with Betty White back in the day. Betty White just turned down the Cypress Hill and took off her bong mask to shake her head at Joan Rivers trying to act like she's that baked. And if throw a black wig on Joan Rivers, this could easily pass as a night in the life of Demi Moore.

Like Jennifer Aniston when Justin Theroux seriously asked her out on a date without saying PSYCH! afterward, Kristen Bell was filled so much potent happiness over meeting a sloth that she melted into a puddle of joy before the sloth drank her up with a straw (that'd probably make her life).

Seriously, Veronica Mars showed Ellen a clip (skip to the 2:00 mark) of her having a melodramatic meltdown after her piece Dax Shepard introduced her to a sloth on her birthday. OVER A SLOTH! It's not like the sloth sang her a Stacey Q song or brought her a plate of Chocodiles (Why don't they make Chocodiles anymore?). It was just a sloth being a sloth. Veronica Mars is fucking crazy. Although, if you woke up next to Dax's face every morning, you too would be so vulnerable that your raw emotions would spin out of control at the drop of a SLOTH. This is your "crying over cat videos while on your period" moment on speed.

And I'm totally changing Birthday Sluts to Birthday Sloths.

What is Full Throttle Saloon on TruTv and why haven't I memorized every single episode already? Because I need more natural patriotic beauty like this in my life.

With hair like a melted rocket pop and tits of destruction that look like a Fix-A-Flat ass, Cathy tells her admirers outside of Full Throttle Saloon that believe or not it took six titty jobs for her to look like Kim Kardashian is ripping out of her chest ass first. It's like Anna Nicole Smith was reincarnated using the tear drop of an American bald eagle. The true look of patriotism is a pair of massive silicone globs barely covered with two bikini bottoms tied together. We should all pledge allegiance to Cathy.

via Buzzfeed