Rihanna had a busy night last night, performing at the Brixton Academy with Beyonce and Jay-Z before hitting up Nozomi for a little sushi, and then partying at Mahiki nightclub until 3am. And somewhere in the middle of all those comings and goings, she found time to make a replica of her lower torso entirely of chewed bubble gum and cottage cheese. I bet it’s a real conversation piece.
I posted a link about the “So You Think You Can Dance” vagina flasher in the quickies today, but TMZ only had the one disappointingly censored picture of Contestant #22036’s crotch. There’s where I step in with a full sixteen seconds of slow motion audition video of what may or may not be a black person, possibly a Pacific Islander, flashing the judges as she wallows in the floor. Granted, she could just be wearing a brown thong or cursed with the kind of booty fat that hangs down low and gives the appearance of being labial in nature. I don’t know. I’ve watched it three times now and I still don’t see it. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t keep trying! That’s just my strong work ethic for you.
Sharon Stone gave the paps a little up-skirtage while vacationing in Sardinia this week. Although I’m not sure if it technically qualifies as an “upskirt” since she’s the one doing it to herself. Not to mention that there’s bathing suit underneath. And she’s 51. And scratching her ass. By my calculations, that’s at least four cases for disqualification right there.
Naomi Campbell did her best Britney Spears impression as she danced it up underpants-less in a St. Tropez nightclub with boyfriend Vladimir Doronin, flashing her snatch for all the waiting paparazzi to see. Although I can’t say for sure that’s her vagina. It could be a charcoal briquette next to a piece of bacon fat or maybe just part of her left teste. Only Naomi’s gynecologist knows for sure!
Most of these (including the super closeups I made just for you) are NSFW:
A friend of mine recently introduced me to her boyfriend, and when he asked me what I did for a living, I replied, “It’s hard to describe, really… kind of a tasteful melange of social satire… you might call it a ‘provocative commentary’ on the dynamics of the culture of celebrity.” And then she said, “She puts up pictures of famous people’s tits all day.” Well, fuck her. I also put up pictures of famous people’s asses. Seriously, why do some people have to make things so one-dimensional sometimes? Jerks.
Ali Larter picking up change in a short dress and falling victim to the monological imperative:
Ugh. How this dumb bitch manages to remain alive and still tottering around is a complete mystery to me. She’s spent the last several years literally doing everything in her power to court Death, but that worthless Grim Reaping jackhole can’t be arsed to pay her a damn bit of attention.
Amy Winehouse, graceful as always, leaving Maddox Nightclub in London last night:
If the giant adam’s apple hadn’t already convinced you that Nicolette Sheridan is really a tranny, that half of a scrotum bulging out of her panties oughta pretty much seal the deal.
Paris Hilton flashed her black panties from the back of the car as she left Punk nightclub in Soho last night. I’m sure you’re as shocked as I am! Not but the crotch-baring, but by the fact her panties aren’t a blend of irradiated teflon, PVC and tyvek held together with heat-sealed Thermo bond seams. I figured that regular cotton panties would have burned up on first contact!
A lot of times, when people ask me what I “do,” I say “it’s an amalgamation of social commentary and study of the interpersonal dynamics of the culture of celebrity.” And then I pretend to ash my cigar and adjust my imaginary monacle over a snifter of brandy instead of stubbing out my Marlboro in a half-eaten cheeseburger I found under the couch. It just sounds better than saying “I scour the internet looking for upskirts and nip slips like an eleven-year old boy with his mother’s Glamour magazine.” On that note, here’s Jessica Simpson’s bare bottom onstage at Good Morning America yesterday. I’m pretty sure the dynamics of interbeing and monological imperatives are hidden up there somewhere. You just have to keep looking!
I learned way back in the second grade that the best way to impress a boy was to show him your underpants. Jennifer Aniston seems to have learned this lesson a little later in life, but still — better late than never, right? Of course, if the underpants don’t work, she could always try eating a worm on a double dare. It’s practically a guarantee for first choice in the kickball team selection process!
At the Toronto International Film Festival yesterday:
I was always a big fan of nursery rhymes as a kid. And not just for the homosexual and infanticidal subtexts, either. Mostly because they rhymed. I love a good rhyme. And a rhyme about seeing underpants in France would be the perfect lead-in here, if actress Jamie-Lynn Siegler were actually wearing any. No cigar. So I’m forced to go with the “Me Chinese, me play joke. Me put pee-pee in your coke” opener followed by several armpit fart noises and the “booger machine-gun.” It’s the only intro 4 out of every 5 third-graders recommend!
