The explosive Breakup Scene that drives all romantic comedies, the one so expected that it’s no longer a spoiler, happens in The Big Sick. But the stakes are graver than in your average rom-com. In this case, the leading man Kumail (played by Silicon Valley’s Kumail Nanjiani) is a Pakistani-American comedian who’s…
I’m pressing pause on my regularly scheduled program of making bad dick jokes and slobbering at the mouth about dick like dick is the only thing that matters (it is) to bring you pictures of an actual dick!
Milan Christopher is an out and proud hip-hop artiste, model and Love & Hip Hop: Hollywood cast member, and he decided to celebrate Gay Pride Month by bringing out the Wienerschnitzel franchise on his crotch for Paper Magazine. Milan tells Paper that he decided to let his south-pointing lubed-up salchicha hang out for the sake of activism. Milan feels like it’s time for society to be okay with the sight of a greased-up naked man. Sure, Milan bared his perfectly pruned dick shrub (which is giving me Kid from Kid ‘N Play meets Bart Simpson) and oily peen for attention, but he is still my hero. Anybody who uses his big dick as a sledgehammer to break down barriers and pave the way for more dicks in photo shoots is a real vanguard to me. Milan is putting the PEEN in pioneer. NSFWness ahead.
Milan told Paper that many women have gotten naked in the name of art and so he’s pushing for equality by puckering up his peen lips for the cameras.
Well, I just feel like in our culture it’s so taboo for a guy to show their bodies but it’s ok for a woman to do it. I just kinda want to break that. I think I have a nice body and I think it’s art and I just think that it should be celebrated like they celebrate women’s bodies. So you know, I could be a guy and be gay and be black and be artistic and be artistic in a nude fashion shoot in the same way that anybody else could.
And so I want that. I want that “break the internet” moment. I want people to look at this and be like, “Oh, wow, it’s ok.” This guy is a musician, he’s on TV. He’s doing this, he’s doing that but it’s ok.
This post could be 2 words long and it’d still have too many words in it because the only thing that matters is DICK, so without further adieu…
And here’s Milan working his stick-shift in front of a Starbucks car:
You know, though, if Milan wanted to break the internet, he could’ve easily done that. All he had to do was go to Spectrum’s servers, pull his dick out, hit that shit with it and BOOM. Broken.
There’s more pics of Milan’s activist peen at Paper.
Netflix has been killin’ it with its original content lately, and its latest movie seems like another big win. To the Bone (which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year) stars Lily Collins as 20-year-old Ellen, who can’t seem to beat anorexia no matter how many times she goes to rehab for the eating disorder. With her life on the line, she’s sent to a treatment center run by a doctor with unconventional methods, played by Keanu Reeves, in hopes that she’ll find the strength to beat the disease. The dark comedy is helmed by writer-director Marti Noxon (who’s worked on UnREAL and Buffy the Vampire Slayer), and also stars Carrie Preston and Liana Liberato.
A person is drowning in a pool. To those on the surface, the pool appears fairly shallow, that the person drowning could easily get out of their situation by simply standing up. But below the water, the depth is infinite. There’s a powerful suction that appears at random. Waves knock the person down constantly. To those above, it appears the waves are simply caused by the drowning person splashing. And maybe they are, but it doesn’t matter — they’re still there. And the person chokes and coughs and desperately tries not to sink. The people above throw lifesavers the drowning person can’t reach, even though to the above it looks like it would be so simple just to grab hold. Those above are angry, sad. The below can’t hold on much longer before their lungs fill and they’re lost for good.
And all along, what no one has noticed is the one next to the drowning person. This person is also drowning. But they are not the drowning person. No one is trying to save this person. This person cannot save themselves, they cannot save the drowning person, they can only choke back chemically treated water and wonder if they’ve kicked too much or not enough, or if they are the reason the drowning person got in the pool in the first place. They grab and slap and beg the drowning person to come with them but the drowning person can’t or won’t hear them, because their own splashing is so powerful. Next to this person is a staircase that easily leads out of the water. But if they take the stairs, the drowning person will be gone forever. This person is gasping, just like the drowning person. They are just as scared. They are just as dying. And no one can see it. No one cares. Those above blame the drowning person for drowning, and the other one for being there at all.
This is what it can mean to love an addict.
Much has been made of Carrie Fisher’s cause of death over the last few days. The news of what was in her system at the moment we all lost her has been met with gossip, derision, anger and a sense of betrayal, betrayal that she could turn her back on sobriety and life so easily, as though it’s ever easy at all.
To love an addict is to be enraged by this response, because you know it’s all bullshit, that it’s a fundamental societal misunderstanding or refusal to understand addiction and mental illness. And because, despite every screaming muscle that knows better straining to stop you from feeling this way, you feel it too.
I think of Carrie Fisher, who dedicated her life to telling her story, to helping people with her experiences. Those experiences matter and count and they are not undone by a toxicology report, chemical strains found in a vial of blood. I think of Billie Lourd, who lost so much so quickly, and who has been forced into the role of legacy defender. Who understood her mother so well, who is using her pain and loss to speak out about mental health and stigma, who is so strong at such a young age, no doubt in part because of what they went through together, but who likely also feels things she doesn’t want to feel but can’t help, like that same anger, rage and betrayal she desperately wants no one else to feel, and likely feels that same anger, rage and betrayal at herself for feeling those things. I think of Debbie Reynolds who was in so much pain that it killed her, because so many times I’ve thought it would kill me too.
Addiction is a cruel, terrible illness. It maims and kills and destroys. And not just the addict. In the wake of this disease, others fall. We feel everything. We remember everything, even what the person we love doesn’t and won’t. Their story is our story but it’s not our own, relegating us to supporting characters in our own lives. We cannot save this person. The only way to save ourselves is to walk away and that can be so impossible that it’s not an option, like cutting off a limb trapped under a tree.
Carrie Fisher made a difference. Carrie Fisher was good and powerful and made us feel good and powerful and unalone. Nothing and no one can take that away from her. But Billie and Debbie, and every other person whose lungs are full and can’t hold on much more but may have to hold on forever, we see you. And whatever you’re feeling, no matter how much you want not to, just know there are those of us treading water beside you. And eventually we’ll make it to land.
Love.com has languished in my Netflix queue for a few weeks now, simply because its description was so absurd to be irresistible: “When a fashion blogger falls for a video game vlogger, their romance goes viral. But separating their virtual life from reality gets complicated.” The alleged premise, clearly, was an act…
Juju has more jobs than god, and that’s the way she likes it. A star of Love & Hip-Hop: New York, the boss of a real estate business, proprietor of a weave company, an actor and model, a part-time student (she’s working on her master’s degree) and, last but not least, something of an advice guru on social media, she…
And yes by “sweet air kisses of love,” I really mean “butt burp bubble of hate.” Although, it seems like Patti LuPone can’t even be bothered with producing a fart for Trump.
If La LuPone ever had a filter to begin with, I’m sure it broke and flew out of her mouth decades ago when she belted out a high note. Patti isn’t one to hold back her thoughts on anything. Patti was on Show People With Paul Wontorek last month to promote her Broadway show War Paint and she took a moment to shoot out an anti-Trump river of pure fire that was so piping hot I’m surprised it didn’t charbroil Paul’s face and leave him looking like….well, like Trump. Patti called Trump a “fucking ass motherfucking asshole,” “a fucking nut” and “certifiably insane.”
At this past Sunday’s Tonys, Patti gave a CliffsNotes version of that rant.
Patti was asked by a reporter from Variety why Trump should come see War Paint. The show must go on, but it won’t go on with Patti on the stage if Trump is sitting in the audience. Patti won’t perform for him if he goes, and when asked why, she kept it short and simple by saying, “Because I hate the motherfucker, how’s that?”
And now presenting the eloquent, theatrical and superior reboot of “Cash me ousside, how bow dah.”
I’ve been meaning to sample TBS’s Angie Tribeca for a long time now, but something else always comes along, like scurvy, and before I knew it, the third season finale had arrived (oddly, all three seasons have aired within the last 18 months, because TBS doesn’t abide by the traditional rules of television). I tuned into last night’s episode for one reason, and one reason alone: Chris Pine playing a Hannibal Lector parody.
What can I tell you about Angie Tribeca after one episode? For one, now I know where Wynn Duffy ran off to after Justified, and for those of you aching for more Deon Cole (who plays Charlie on Black-ish) in your lives, he’s a series regular here, too. A German Shepard named Jagger is also a series regular: He can mix drinks, and fill in as Sergeant in the absence of human police officers.
The one episode sampling also confirmed everything that I’ve heard about Angie Tribeca: It’s very Naked Gun, which is to say: Some of the jokes are really funny, and some of the jokes are really bad. Rob Riggle, for instance, held an entire police department hostage with a single bed bug, which falls under both categories: It was really funny, and really bad.
Overall, I liked it, but I’m not sure I liked it enough to watch the entire series run. That said, it boasts a lot of great celebrity cameos — Jon Hamm, Mary McCormick, Bill Murray, Natalie Portman, Sarah Chalke, Busy Phillips, Keegan-Michael Key, Adam Scott, Jessica St. Clair, Timothy Omundson, and Robert Pine, who I am weirdly just now realizing is Chris Pine’s father. Holy shit, how did I not know that? NEPOTISM — so it might be worth watching a few select episodes like, for instance, the one featuring both Chris and Robert Pine.
… (20 minutes later) …
Oh, that one had Constance Zimmer, Rachel Dratch, Chris Pine and Robert Pine (who made no sly jokes alluding to his son, sadly). It didn’t change my opinion of the series, however. It still had a 60/40 good-to-bad joke ratio, plus some terrible, and terribly hilarious puns. I also know the twist ending to the serial killer case that’s being investigated in this episode now. Fuck it, I should watch the other Pine episode, too, before I draw any definitive conclusions about the series.
… (20 minutes later) …
Oh my God, this show is so dumb. And yet, I laugh at every stupid joke. Uproariously, at times.
«Do we have anyone inside the Animal Rights Movement?» «We had a mole, but they rescued him and set him free.»
«Hmmm. That is ironic, isn’t it? Like the way that Miss Piggy considers herself desirable.»
The product placement on this show is also amazing. «Welcome to the Mennen Speed Stick Maximum Security Prison (We Keep Sweat Locked Up).»
Anyway, I might be a little bit in love with this show now. The whole third season is about a serial killer who kills rich white male big-game trophy hunters and uses their clothes to dress animals as humans. It’s so stupid, and yet, so incredibly funny. I want more.
… (20 minutes later) …
OK, one more. The second season premiere with Jon Hamm and James Franco. Tribeca’s partner is named Jay Geils, people! I mean, it should be a joke that never works more than once, and yet, it works every single time! James Franco plays a cop named Sgt. Pepper!
«We were high-school sweethearts. Ever since college.»
«You know what always makes me feel better? A big bag of dicks.» (Pulls out a bag of Dick’s BBQ)
Jon Hamm’s cameo is literally three seconds long. The biggest name on this show outside of Bill Murray, and he gets 3 seconds and one line. «See you around.» It’s perfect.
OK, now I love this show. Some time around the third episode, the bad jokes became endearingly funny, and the whole thing just clicked into place. This is why you don’t review a sitcom based one episode folks, and now I’m going to need to take the rest of the day off to watch the other 26 episodes.
I don’t have children, but I LOVED this. I can only imagine how much those who do have children might relate to this. — (The Hairpin)
At The Beguiled premiere, Nicole Kidman looked lovely and I was going to link to her picture, but then I saw Courtney Love and NOPE, I had to link to her, because you all can give me all the shit you want about not liking Anne Hathaway’s Italian wedding caftan (I still think it’s hideous, but I do agree that it was probably very comfortable), but there is no fucking way any of you are going to disagree with me about WHAT IN THE ACTUAL SHIT, COURTNEY? — (GFY)
Because white men keep feeling like they need to be involved in women’s bodies, yet another anti-abortion bill was up for hearing today at the Ohio Statehouse. This time, a group of women dressed as Handmaids attended the hearing and sat in silence as a visceral reminder of how real this dystopian nightmare can become. — (The MarySue)
Just another average day in New York City. — (Gothamist)
There is some seriously outdated advice out there for job seekers and much of it is sexist as hell. (But the «don’t wear too much perfume one», that one applies to everyone. SERIOUSLY. I have interviewed entirely too many people whose perfume or cologne I could practically taste. Don’t be that person.) — (Fast Company)
Last week, Reese Witherspoon shit-talked a certain movie, citing how terrible it was as a reason why she began her own production company. This week? She talked smack about a certain actor who ditched his family for three weeks to prepare for a role, something only a dude could do. (THR)
So ScarJost is a thing, maybe? More than just a one-night-makeout-fling-thing? — (Dlisted)
A fabulous little girl pulled some fierce fashion inspiration to cope with losing her hair to chemo, and shut up you’re CRYING. — (Harper’s Bazaar)
Nobody talks about TV ratings anymore. Are you a little curious about what’s doing well among all those cable dramas you watch? Better Call Saul? The Americans? American Gods? Here’s your answer. (Uproxx)
Awww, Julia Styles is gonna’ have a baybee! Side note: I really like her engagement ring. It’s very simple and pretty. — (Celebitchy)
Bachelor in Paradise, which is an offshoot of The Bachelor/Bachelorette has halted production. There are sexual misconduct allegations and a lot of conflicting information about the level of intoxication and inability to consent to oral sex from one of the contestants as well as why didn’t producers and/or other cast members step in and stop things if they were aware of the situation. Plus, throw in some slut-shaming and racial epithets from the super classy online fandom. It’s all really fucked up. — (Lainey)
Battle of the Network Stars was a fanterrible show when I was a kid. I loved it. It’s coming back (again? I think they’ve resurrected it before) and the stars* involved this time are ah-MAH-zing! — (SOMG)
Ursula says this is the best video of all the videos in all the land and I must share it with the world. She is not wrong. — (Facebook)
The #CannonBookClub discussion about Hadley Freeman’s Life Moves Pretty Fast: The Lessons We Learned From Eighties Movies (And Why We Don’t Learn Them From Movies Anymore) goes live tomorrow at 2 pm EST. The discussion questions are up, and several opinionated reviews have been posted. No surprise, people have opinions about Dirty Dancing and Pretty in Pink. Did you learn lessons from 80’s movies? (Cannonball Read 9)