If you put your hand over Ellen Page, you'd sort of know what it would look like if you got to frisk ASkars. How Ellen Page kept herself from tickling ASkars' armpits with her hat's lips is beyond me. And yes, that grown man in the bottom right is totally Stefan-ing out of his mind, because he can't believe the Swedish essence of ASkar pits is blowing his way.
The oddest pairing since Kunty Karl and Choupette went to a Stanley Cup finals game at the Staples Center in L.A. yesterday and some are saying this means that Ellen is doing a sexy single bar gymnastics routine on ASkars' peen when the lights go down. Please. It's true that if you polled the planet's population, including inanimate objects, on whether or not they'd let ASkars stick the tip in, 99% would grab the butt lube and you ask where the line for that ride begins. When ASkars struts by a rock, the rock finds a way to grow a vagina so he can fuck it. Everybody wants to hump ASkars. But not Ellen Page. I mean, my common sense gene is preventing me from picturing that. They're just two beautiful lesbians who like to watch sports together. That's all.
They also did a movie together and I hope it went so well that they work together again in a movie version of the adventures of the Jolly Green Giant and Little Sprout. Because I want to see that.
In case you've been looking for a picture to tattoo on one of your ovaries, here's a picture of Theseus' son, ASkars, holding a tiny baby lamb in Bullett magazine. Yes, that baby lamb looks smug, but I'd be smug in the face too if I was an adorable baby lamb and was in the arms of a human Swedish lightning rod. Lamb is like "Awww, bitch, don't hate" and he has every reason to be like that. If every story about a lamb or whatever in the Bible was replaced with this picture, I'd totally read those stories all the time!
It's almost like ASkars is saying, "Look at this lamb, I'm going to make condoms out of it so that you can ride me until your pussy says 'baaaaaah.'"
That really is beautiful....unless you're a vegetarian...or an animal lover....or a person who doesn't completely hate lambs. If any of those are the case, then I totally ruined that picture for you.
via Best Week Ever
The literary beacon of truth that is The National Enquirer (via Celebitchy) has put ASkars, Charlize Theron and a gay bar in the same story, and have given me the beautiful image of those two blond giants eye fucking each other as a go-go boy's ass cheeks wiggle in the background. ASkars has backed away from an Olsen and fallen right into the golden crotch on Charlize Theron. Some source says that Charlize and ASkars strolled into GYM Sportsbar in West Hollywood, ordered two beers and then found love in a homo place. The source said this about Charlize and ASkars' time together:
“They ordered two beers and went to sit on the patio. I realized it was Charlize and her date was Alexander Skarsgard. It was clear they were a couple, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes.
People said hello, and they were really nice. After about 45 minutes, they left with their arms around each other and drove off in the same care.
Another source said that Charlize is busting nuts on the inside over ASkars and they went to a gay bar, because they didn't think anyone would recognize them there. Um, is GYM one of those "in the dark" bars or is 99.99% of its clientele completely blind, because what self-respecting gay dude would not recognize ASkars? I could be blindfolded in the basement of GYM and I'd know ASkars walked through the front door, because my asshole would start blowing out the melody to a Swedish Viking song.
Anyway, can you imagine watching these two fuck? It would be all legs and all blond hair. If you want to know what it looks like, pull off the legs from a Ken Doll, pull off the legs from a Barbie, grab a blond weave track, dip all of them into lube, throw them into the dryer and press "air dry" before fapping away.
Page Six says that at Vanity Fair's after-Oscar party on Sunday night, Swedish lightning rod ASkars dropped in on the hand of Zeus and after waving away trick after trick throwing their soppy wet coochies at him, he zeroed his glare on the youngest Olsen, Elizabeth Olsen. ASkars' ex-piece Kate Bosworth was also at the party, but I don't think she saw anything since one of the janitors mistook her for a brittle broom and used her to sweep up all the chocha dust that exploded everywhere when ASkars glided in.
A witness tells P6 that ASKars and Elizabeth Olsen were locked in each other's words in a dark corner for a long time. The witness didn't say if "talking in a corner" led to "Elizabeth climbing Mt. ASkars to explore his mouth cavern of orgasms with her tongue," which would eventually lead to Elizabeth frolicking all over ASkars' naked body. So let's hope it doesn't go past the corner.
I have nothing against Elizabeth Olsen. She's like the Marilyn Munster of the Olsens. She's harmless, but my allegiance forever belongs to the health and well-being of ASkars' Swedish nipple knobs. If shit gets serious between ASkars and Elizabeth, he'll eventually have to sit at the dinner table with the Olsen Trolls. ASkars' charm could make a dead vulture's peen swoon, but his powers have no effect on those evil Olsen Trolls. They would scurry up his body, slide down his mouth and eat him from the inside/out. The next time we'd see ASkars' nipples is when the Olsens wear them as earrings. This Elizabeth Olsen and ASkars thing can't happen. ASkars' nipples are at stake. Fartfull! (Fartfull isn't only the name of an Ikea bench, it's also my favorite Swedish curse word.)
With his pubes of a cherub locks smelling like Nice 'N Easy and his mighty viking oar legs covered in dad jeans from Mervyn's going out of business sale, ASkars is embracing the homely to play a normal looking person in Disconnect which shot scenes in Yonkers, NY today. Yes, it's obvious that ASkars is trying to Charlize Theron his way to an Oscar by camouflaging his natural SWEDISH GOD OF THE GODS hotness with the wardrobe of a father of three you'd stand behind at Chili's To Go, but I'm glad he did. Because this is some shit that should make you swoon out of your reasonably-priced cotton panties.
This ASkars probably smells like Palmolive soap (because the soap dispenser full of Dial in his shower ran out), only stays in motels where he can use his AAA card, still uses a Thomas Guide, always asks the waiter at Carrows if they have specials and only answers the phone by saying "Yell-o!" May the viking gods slap me in the loins with a thunderbolt for saying this, but I prefer my ASkars served like this. This is some realness I can get into.
I mean, this ASkars' idea of a hot Saturday night is probably sharing a bowl of Jiffy Pop and a bottle of Chateau Diana while reading Joyful Noise poems together before getting into some lights off missionary sex on his Jennifer Convertible. How can you fucking not prefer this ASkars?!
Let's just assume that this bite-sized caramel twinkie was actually the same height as ASkars, but magically shrunk down before the Swedish mountain of hotness so that he could gaze up at him the way one gazes up at the sun. Let's also just assume that pygmy gay's fly was actually up until ASkars came along and it dropped low so that his peen could breathe in some Swedish musk. That little pocket hottie is only doing what we would all do in this situation. Actually, most of you public whores would be asking the pap to hold your purse as your knees started to bend.
And who ever said that a picture is worth a thousand restraining orders, was talking about this picture.
The sun is shining, and coochie and ass lips alike are clapping together now that ASkars and the splintery broom who didn't turn back into her human form when Belle declared her love for the Beast are no longer humping on each other! Today, the sound of an angel's orgasmic queef comes form UsWeekly who is pleased to announce that ASkars' Swedish meatballs are back on the Ikea buffet line after two long years. Grab your trays!
"It was very mutual," a source tells the new issue of Us. "And it happened a while ago."
During a July 21 Film District bash at Comic-Con in San Diego, the actor, 34, flirted with a brunette -- and left the party with her.
"He's single," confirms a source, "and he is loving the attention!"
YES! Now all of us can finally twist our nipples to ASkars' half nekkid ass nekkid body without worrying about Kate Bosworth crawling out from under our beds like an oatmeal version of that crazy little bitch from The Grudge. This is not only good news for our fap fantasies, but it's also good news for Kate's stomach. Now that she's no longer only slurping on ASkars' pickled gherkin, she can put some actual food in her mouth. But really, I can't blame Kate for not taking her mouth off of ASkars' pickled gherkin, but I can blame her for letting go. If I was Kate Bosworth, I'd immediately shampoo my hair since her mop looks like a plate of onion straws marinating in pit sweat. Then I'd get on his peen and never let go. ASkars' dick would be Jack and I'd be Rose. But unlike Rose's dumb ass, I'd NEVER let go.
(Image via Superhero Fan)
If my fuck parts produced the L.A. premiere party for True Blood, ASkars, Joe Mangina-Jello and Ryan Kwanten (Beeehl and his soggy crepe-wrapped zombie face are not invited) would've shown up wearing only thongs made out of bloody vampire fangs and gold chains attached to each other's nipples, and they would've gotten ALL THE ATTENTION. But since my fuck parts didn't produce the L.A. premiere party for True Blood, those three showed up wearing wardrobe furnished by Pierre Cardin (Chuck Woolery shout out!). Instead, all of the attention went to Evan Rachel Wood and her Flowbee fresh haircut. BOOOO.
Evan Rachel Wood showed up looking like the Happy Hour-shift bartender at an L-Word themed bar and tells Popeater that she cut the locks that Marilyn Manson used to nibble pie bits out of, because she's really androgynous.
"I grew up in love with David Bowie. So I was always into very androgynous things. Guys, girls... I'm into androgyny in general. I'm constantly changing, I'm constantly growing. I think I'm a little controversial? I just try and keep some mystery, so hopefully people can't really put their finger on it."
You know what I want to put my finger on? Her tongue, so she can shut up with that "I'M SO EDGY! I'M SUCH A PRINCE SONG! I'M SO NOW!!!" crap. Bitch is about as mysterious as a pus-filled wart on Paris Hilton's labia. Bitch needs to change into a mouth gag and kindly sit down. Somebody needs to glamour A CLUE into that trick.
These little wet noodle hos think that if they chop their hair off and put on pants, they are suddenly the second coming of Tilda Swinton. Newsflash, bitch, looking like a recently divorced French teacher who came back from summer break with a "hot new" cut she got from the head stylist at MasterCuts is not EDGY. ........wait. Since I put it that way, maybe this is edgy and new after all. Carry on, Evan!
Here's a few more pictures from last night's premiere. In case you haven't been introduced yet: ERW, PAM!!!! with her husband, Ryan Kwanten, Joe Mangina-Jello, Anna Paquin, Stephen Moyer, ASkars, Carrie Preston with Michael Emerson, Sam Trammell with his wife, Deborah Ann Woll with her guest,
If you worked at GQ and got a call from Alexander Skarsgard's publicist confirming that he will be happy to grace the cover and pages of your magazine with his long Swedish limbs, what is the first thing you would do? If it was me, I'd immediately torch the sample closet, hypnotize the editor into declaring June "The Nekkid Swede" issue and tie up any stylist who came to the set with "clothing options for Mr. ASkars." That's what anybody with working genitals would do!
Well, anybody but those hos at GQ. They completely covered up the sexiest thing that has come out of Stellan Skarsgard's penis hole! ASkars' lingonnips? Covered up! They also covered up ASkars' happy trail that leads to the FLÄRKE in his pants! (FLÄRKE is the name of the Ikea bookshelf that took me four hours to build and left me all sore up the next day. I'd like to think that ASkars' peen has the same kind of power.)
If that wasn't bad enough, GQ also asked the director of Straw Dogs what the set was like during ASkars' fake rape scene with his girlfriend Kate Bosworth.
"In the beginning, Kate would be crying after every take and Alex would try to comfort her. By the end, everybody got really raw."
So GQ kept ASKars' body under wraps and then brings up rape and Kate Bosworth's name in the article. Way to break a wave of boners, GQ. Why didn't go they all the way by making Gwyneth Paltrow interview ASkars about his feelings on CROCS in the room where Osama was killed?
It's that time of year again when celebwhores from every list gather in the desert of California and hipster-ize themselves by rolling around in a bin at the Salvation Army and filling their pores with Patchouli! It's Coachella! It felt only fitting to let Tara Reid, who puts the hell in Coachella, lead the way of hos who look like they just fell out of the ass of an Urban Outfitters.
Only Tara the Terrible would wear Lucifer's footwear of choice in 1 million degree weather. You just know the inside of her UGGs are coated with a thick, gooey toe-smegma that is made of whiskey that secretes out of her foot pores and coke dust from an 8-ball she stashed in there years ago. At the end of the night when all the food trucks are closed, Tara can smear that UGGs butter on a piece of cardboard and get drunk high all over again! Actually, Tara might be a genius for that. This is the only time in history I approve of UGGs.
Anyway, here's who joined Tara in sweating their pits off while sucking the nuts of a coco. In order: Penn Badgley with the gay son from Desperate Housewives, RDJ!!!!, Vanessa Hudgens (who needs to know that we already have one Lisa Bonet), Tara, Jack Osbourne, Alessandra Ambrosio with her dude, Nick Simmons, Dita Von Teese, Usher, Danny DeVito, Ashley Greene with that dude from Kings of Leon, The Hoff with his latest leased piece, Kellan Lutz, Paul McCartney, ASkars with Kate Bosworth, Tony Hawk and Bud Bundy.