April 26, 2007
POW! In your face, evil paparazzo bully!
Hugh Grant is bloody genius. I love this guy… I really, really do. He’s gone and allegedly thrown a tub of baked beans at a nasty photog, as if Divine Brown wasn’t fun enough. The real sequence of events is here.
BUT... below is how one might imagine it took place on Hugh’s tidy doorstep:
HUGH: POW! In your face, you rotten paparazzo!
Hugh puffs his girlish chest and hurls the plastic tub of beans into the air. QUICK! He ducks into his flat. He’s playing a cute game of peek-a-boo, now.
PAPARAZZO: Is it a rock? Is it a brick? Run for cover! It’s a motherfucking tub of beans!
BEANS: Splat.
Hugh gingerly peeps out the door.
HUGH: Oh, ballocks. I hit the ground.
PAPARAZZO: HA HA HA! Hugh throws like a girl... and, I got it on film, biiitches!
BEANS: Ooz.
HUGH: Oh bugger. I suppose I’d better run out and give him a little kick in the arse!
Hugh hops from his doorstep with gusto. He gives a mighty kick to the air.
HUGH: I'm saving bloody face now, you wanker!
PAPARAZZO: HA HA HA! What’s he kicking at?
HUGH: I’m kicking at your butt, see!
PAPRAZZO: Would you look at this?
BEANS: Who’s going to eat me now? Tear.
April 05, 2007
Holy Fuck the What.
We can't stop giggling over some RIDICULOUS pictures of Jessica "A Public Affair" Simpson and John "O-face" Mayer frolicking on the beach in Sydney, Australia. What makes them so good isn't just how foolishly carefree these crazy kids are. It's Sky News's inane sidebar commentary. Here, just look.
We're inspired.
As such, we present you with the first edition of our little Thursday Afternoon Slop Culture Photo Story Time.
John: Just because I went to Berkeley for two seconds doesn't mean I'm not manly like your ex-husband! Look at my tensed forearm! I have a mop top!
Jess: Oh my gawd! I'm really loving my new brown hair. But also not.
John: (in awe) I did it!
Jess: (in awe) You did it!
Jess: Thank Gawd my boobs didn't fall out of my cute little farmer girl jumper dress! Look at how cute! I'm not wearing a bra!
John: "You've [sic] got double Ds, you [sic] can't keep those suckers in!" Guess who said that? Ha ha ha!
Jess: Daddy! Ha ha ha!
John: Ha Ha! That isn't psychotic and twisted at all! Hey, I'm really starting to like you!
Jess: This is my playful face.
John: Mm, hmm.
Jess: This is my "I'm a serious actress and recording artist" face. And my "I'm still hotter than Ashlee" face. And my "I'm tousled by the wind and sand and sea and it makes me contemplate humanity and stuff" face.
John: Mm, hmm.
Jess: Hahahaha! I'm so fake looking!
John: Yes. Don't you just love how my sunglasses on my gross mop top make me look like I'm participating in the new head band trend?
Jess: Oh, John, I love your fashion advice! You're so smart and cute! Can we kiss?
John: I hope my headband isn't messed up.
Jess: I hope my boobs fall out!
Gawd! Oh well...that was...well, it was almost better than Nick! I'm so happy right now.
My body is a mother fucking wonderland. I hope Jess is watching me right now. Snap.
Jess, Jess, are you watching? Look! I'm about to dog paddle! Jess?! JESS?!!!
Did you see that, babes?
Ew. This isn't going to make Nick jealous at all. I wonder if Pete Wentz is going to be single soon. Tee hee!
April 04, 2007
IT'S SPRING: Sianara suckas!
The Hills is dunzo its second season, its poor, sweet, California perennials trampled by MTV groundhogs (like Run’s House and Taquita & Kaui). From her side of the California king, one can imagine Heidi Montag softly whispering “Is it really over?” In the other room, Spencer leaks Heidi's new "job" to the press via "homie phone," while team Heidi lies bandaged, in platic-surgeon ointment and gauze.
Such is the unsettling reality we will miss, watching overeager Making-The-Band-3 cast-offs gallivanting in Sin City instead. Girls like Taquita and Kaui are just happy to be on TV. Where girls like Lauren and Heidi will seemingly never be happy… isn’t that the allure?
Goodbye, Heidi—we will miss your utter lack of self-esteem, and pout of total depression in the final-episode still. Goodbye, Lauren — we will miss your small, quaking Valley-girl voice, fielding questions from the Finale-After-Party crowd.
While we await the third season of The Hills, and the demise of the little girl from Crested Butte with a brother named Sky, the sad reality of nervous Los Angeles party girls will go on without us — who have only new breasts, Rachael Ray, and clothing lines to look forward to...
