Pull out your push-ups, ladies — George Clooney is single again! People Magazine reports

George Clooney and his girlfriend Sarah Larson have split up after a year of dating. Though there was speculation that Clooney would end his longtime bachelorhood, in March the actor shot down rumors of an engagement.

Well, it’s like they say — “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” Especially when there’s a whole dairy farm full of nubile young cows with big fake udders who’ll let you tag team with your best buddy anytime you want. That doesn’t fly in all fifty states, of course, but you’re cool if you stick with Arkansas and West Virginia. That’s why they call those states “The Velvet Underground,” if you know what I mean. Wink, wink.

Check out George’s new fake teeth after the jump

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Recognize the chick on all fours tonguing the magazine laying on the ground? I didn’t think you would. The above photo is one of many less-than-demure shots of George Clooney’s girlfriend Sarah Larson, a “model” from Vegas, taken a month after they were first introduced. Star Magazine says

“She’s been described as having a successful runway and print modeling career. But until recently, her “modeling career” consisted mostly of being paid by promoters… to attend special events in sexy outfits and party with her wild girlfriends! Sarah… loves to drink. She likes to get wasted when she goes out.”

And therein lies the rub, ladies. Despite a man’s willingness to drop $29.95 and two hours on a Saturday watching footage of young coeds exposing their breasts and soaping each other up in front of an audience of intoxicated post-pubescent males, the response is decidedly less positive when said footage includes you. Especially if he is unaware said footage existed beforehand. Doubly especially if said footage may or may not have been filmed while he was holed up in your honeymoon suite with a case of the shits while you “went for a nature tour to Chichen Itza.” Trust me, “I was in college” and “Me no hablo ingles” will only work so many times before they start demanding paternity tests again.

More NSFW pictures here.

It really got ugly when George Clooney ran into his best friend Brad Pitt’s ex-wife Jennifer Aniston outside Bar Nineteen12 at the Night Before gala in Beverly Hills on Saturday. And by “got ugly” I mean “she sprinted away huffily.” Take that, you silver-haired rake! OK! Magazine says

“George attempted to be friendly, but Jen wasn’t having it,” one eyewitness tells OK!. “After enduring a few minutes of the actor’s presence, Jen turned on her heels and made a beeline for the Sunset Ballroom.” Courtney, naturally joined Jen, leaving… husband David [Arquette] to make awkward small talk with George.

Nothing shows somebody who’s boss like running away from them. Like France in World War II or my birth father when I was four, it’s the only way to truly convey what a sniveling little coward you are. Wetting your pants and screaming for mommy comes in at a distant second.

I know when I think “Fabio,” the first thing that comes to mind is “a good ass-kicking.” Apparently, it’s the same for George Clooney, too. According to Page Six

On Friday, Clooney and gal pal Sarah Larsen were having dinner at L.A. eatery Madeo next to Fabio and a group of women. All was well until one of Fabio’s pals started taking pictures of her friends. According to numerous eyewitnesses, Clooney, assuming the woman was taking snaps of him, asked her to stop - prompting Fabio to explain that the shots were of his group, not Clooney, and to tell the superstar, “Stop being a diva.” Clooney started arguing back, and he and Fabio then got into a shoving match. “The waiters broke it up before it got out of hand,” a witness told In Touch. Clooney then paid his check and left before finishing his meal. According to another In Touch witness, “George looked annoyed when Fabio went to his table. George stood up, dropped the F-bomb and then went to push him . . . George was drinking . . . He wasn’t drunk, but he certainly wasn’t stone sober, either.” Fabio’s manager told the magazine, “George is lucky he didn’t end up in the ER.”

To which George Clooney replied, “Ah, but I was on ER!” There was a moment of confused silence and a couple of indignant mane tosses. Then Fabio’s left eye began to twitch. All he managed to get out was a frantic “I khant bayleeve ees naught buttah!” before his finally head exploded in a mist of bronzer and Axe deodorant body spray. See, that’s what you call “winning a war with words,” my friends. Infinitely better than “winning a diploma from your six-week anger management course.” At least that’s what my parole officer keeps telling me.

A little George in some stills from Ocean’s 13 for the ladies because I hate him with that beard he’s got now:

Michelle Pfeiffer revealed on a British talk show that George Clooney bet her $100,000 that he’ll never get married. According to The Daily Mail:

Pfeiffer, who has come out of retirement recently to play an old haggard witch in new fantasy film Stardust, told chat show host Jonathan Ross: “He’s just a great guy, great with kids. “I bet him he would get married and he keeps inflating the bet - from $100 to $100,000 (£50,000). “I still think he will, he’s a handsome devil.”

But judging by George’s past form, it looks like Michelle will have to pay up, as both she and actress Nicole Kidman previously bet George £10,000 that he would become a father by the time he turned 40.

Fucking Christ. Are all celebrities so retarded that they honestly have nothing better to do than sit around and make inconsequential bets with each other on the mundane intricacies of their lives? If Nicole Kidman and Michelle Pfeiffer are just dying to throw money in the toilet, I invite them to the goldmine that is my life. For instance, I bet someone right now, that I won’t not get plastered on peach schnapps tonight and pass out on the couch in front of the TV watching reruns of “Chico and the Man.” Double odds if I piss myself. Any takers?

More of George and his skank o’ the week Sarah Lawson, after the jump.

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George Clooney’s new girlfriend Sarah Lawson has been getting a lot of press here lately, especially after that motorcycle accident that left George with a cracked rib and her with a broken foot. An almost fairy-tale princess story — handsome prince George plucks her from oblivion and a Cinderella-esque existence as a waitress to live happily ever after in the kingdom known as Hollywood — a real-life Amélie of sorts. Except not, really. She’s just another ass for him to pound. The Daily Mail reports

Before she became [Clooney's] favourite red carpet companion, the 28-year-old worked as a scantily-clad cocktail waitress at Las Vegas’s Moon nightclub at the Palms Hotel. She has also been photographed posing provocatively with a female friend during a 2005 trip to Amsterdam during a stint as a promotional model. Larson, who briefly appeared on US show Fear Factor, last month abandoned her bar job - and the skimpy bikini uniform that went with it - to travel the world with 46-year-old George.

And there you have it. I found it puzzling that someone without a closet full of tassels and g-strings and platform heels would be granted entrance the Clooney lair, but now it all makes sense. She’s a different kind of whore. You don’t actually have to stuff dollar bills in her underpants to keep her attention. Not that she’d object, mind you. Doesn’t every girl dream of a pantload of sweaty singles? I usually walk around the bus station with the waistband of my track pants held out at arm’s length so that passersby can make charitable donations if they are so inclined. Until security asks me to leave, anyway. I’m still keeping my fingers crossed for the day my own George Clooney rolls in on a Greyhound and makes all of my girlish dreams come true.

Some slighty slutty pics of Sarah pre-Clooney after the jump

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