I don’t know what happened to Keira Knightley. She’s so pale and sickly-looking now. Not to say that she’s not still beautiful, because she is — she just looks like a vampire skeleton. If anemia and anorexia turn you on, then you just stumbled on a gold mine, my friend.

After fourteen years and two children together, Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis are reportedly calling it quits. People Magazine says:

Multiple sources [claim] that the relationship is all but officially finished.

Depp, 48, and Paradis, 39, who are parents to Lily-Rose, 12, and Jack, 9, have not appeared side-by-side on a red carpet for more than a year.

In fact, some in their circle say the couple of nearly 14 years have already split. Says one insider: “It’s so sad.”

Man, that IS sad. But you know what isn’t sad? Behind-the-scenes pictures from the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. But then you know what’s sad again? The pictures are slightly out-of-focus because some faggot at GQ thought he was being “artsy.” I don’t know how much more of this emotional roller coaster I can stand.

Lily Aldridge, Candice Swanepoel, Alessandra Ambrosio, Doutzen Kroes and Isabel Goulart in the February issue of GQ:

This just goes to show you what a nose job, platinum blonde wig and a shitload of makeup can do for a gal. It worked for the real Marilyn Monroe, so why not the actress playing the part of Marilyn Monroe in an upcoming movie? It’s art imitating life… imitating life imitating art. No, that’s right. An extraordinarily average looking girl gets manufactured into a glamorous starlet (Michelle Williams real life) in order to star in a movie (art) based on the real Marilyn Monroe (life) and pose for a subsequent promotional photoshoot for GQ magazine (art). If you’re high right now, I probably just blew your motherfucking mind. I’ve been sitting in the corner rocking back and forth for the last ten minutes now.

I swear, I am so fucking over Lady Gaga and all her stupid alter egos and her stupid-ass costumes and birthing pods and prosthetic bones. The whole schtick is tired. I wish God would finally do some of that smiting he’s always talking about in the Old Testament. No way the Almighty’s just gonna let that bitch slide.

While we’re on the subject of Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, you should know that Miss September Cintia Dicker also has a spread in GQ Brasil this month. Only her GQ spread is way better because you can see her nipples in one of the pics. Check and mate, Sports Illustrated!

Freida Pinto dressed like a pin-up with her legs up in the air in Indian GQ might be the best thing you see all week, unless you caught wind that there might be pornography on the internet. Then you might find something better. But you might also find some girl taking a shit in a plastic cup. Don’t say I didn’t warn you first.

In the November 2011 Men of the Year issue:

I can’t imagine why “The World’s Leading Men’s Magazine” would put the world’s most pale, boring, and flat-chested actress on their November cover. Unless they’re lthey’re trying to get people to cancel their subscriptions, in which case, keep ‘em coming, GQ!

Her Glamour shoot was slightly more tolerable than her stupid GQ one, so here you go:

GQ has released some behind-the-scenes footage from their photo shoot with Sports Illustrated cover girl Brooklyn Decker in her panties. I don’t know if the shoot was for an upcoming issue or if it’s been around for a while, and to be honest, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me because I no longer believe in the concept of linear time. All is one, and existence in the temporal sense is delusory. That’s what I’m planning on telling the judge at my probation hearing, anyway.

So Lindsay Lohan does kiss her mother with that mouth. Apparently, with tongue. This looks like a screen cap from “Zombie Strippers 2.”

Model Lara Stone in next month’s GQ Men of the Year issue, because nobody wants to see any more of that shit:

Zoe Saldana was Uhura in the Star Trek remake and a sexy blue cat in “Avatar,” so a lot of dorky fanboy types are really into her now. I personally wouldn’t know, because I’m not a dorky fanboy. I just happen to love science fiction and being a virgin.

“Crap-quality pics of Bar Refaeli are still better than no pics of Bar Refaeli,” a voice in my head kept telling me as I uploaded these pics. Except it didn’t stop there. The voice also told me that I was an alien-human hybrid with telepathic powers and that I should try to nurse a feral cat. It didn’t end well. I probably shouldn’t have sold my Klonopin for meth money.

This may be the best marketing campaign Starbucks has ever had.