This week’s gossip roundup is going to give celebrity ladies the week off. I won’t be dragging their asses In the Powder Room with me today, which means that one of you is on the hook to lend me a tampon if Aunt Flo decides to get testy with a bitch, okay? Hold onto your (proverbial) nuts!
My husband and I spent a blessed, childfree evening watching Deadpool at the movies and OH. HOLY. REYNOLDS DONG. It was worth it.
Ryan Reynolds confirmed to E!’s Sibley Scoles that he shot a fight sequence with co-star Ed Skrein completely in the buff, saying he was just doing his part to counteract the exploitation of women in film.
I’m not saying I was on the edge of my seat squinting and trying to catch glimpses of the goods. I’m just saying if Julia Roberts had been sitting next to me holding her opera glasses from Pretty Woman, I would have offered her my firstborn, the $20 in Kohl’s cash I had on me, and a $9 plastic cup of Moscato just for a quick peek.
Fanilow Prayer Circles Work
I’m an old soul trapped in the body of a 37-year-old bacon cheeseburger addict, with the sense of humor of a potty-mouthed middle schooler. While my peers were rockin’ out to all that MTV had to offer, I was sitting in the backseat of my mother’s ’83 Corolla, listening to Neil Diamond and Barry Manilow’s greatest hits on cassette.
My heart stopped when I saw Barry had flown back to California last week after performing a sold-out show in Memphis, and was rushed to the hospital. In a post on his official Facebook page, Barry’s people said he’d suffered complications following emergency oral surgery. With the power of “I Write the Songs” on repeat and nine Hail Barrys, he was back on the mend and performing at a pre-GRAMMYs party over the weekend.
Oh, Alec Baldwin. You Homicidal Daydreamer, You!
Back in 2009, Alec Baldwin’s anger issues were at the forefront of everyone’s collective consciousness after TMZ bought a recording of him calling his then-eleven-year-old daughter Ireland a “rude, thoughtless little pig.” If you thought that was a stellar use of the King’s English, wait until you read what he told New Yorker magazine as part of their exposé on the business practices of TMZ and its head honcho, Harvey Levin:
There was a time when my greatest wish was to stab Harvey Levin with a rusty implement and watch his entrails go running down my forearm, in some Macbethian stance. I wanted him to die in my arms, while looking into my eyes, and I wanted to say to him, ‘Oh, Harvey, you thoughtless little pig.’ He is a festering boil on the anus of American media.”
HOMICIDAL POETRY! THS may be small time now, but my new business goal is to have a celebrity refer to me as a festering pustule on the b-hole of humanity.