So it’s time for the media to inflict another round of headlines exclaiming which female star looked dazzling in which designer dress. It’s like a parody of real life. A world where we line up all these celebrities and take pictures of them in stupid-looking outfits on a red carpet and ooh and ah at them as if they are in the throes of curing cancer or something else even remotely useful to civilization. Most of them are middle-aged and their attempts at selling themselves as sexy on a beach would be a joke but suddenly under the watchful gaze of their “people” everyone is told that they are stunning and gorgeous.
They’re not. They are average looking people in overpriced dresses.
You know what makes a girl sexy? Big tits. A nice ass. Long legs. All the physical features that we currently believe to be desirable. Anything else is bullshit. Gwyneth Paltrow is not beautiful. She is plain. Painfully plain. Maybe 20 years ago I might have banged her but believe me when I say I wouldn’t have waited around very long if she was undecided. She is a product of the Hollywood hype machine that so many sheep buy into. As an actress she can pretend to be anyone she wants but when she walks into the real world her only saving grace is money. If she was Gwyneth the girl down at the diner she’d be Gwyneth who better get a boyfriend soon because she’s starting to look a bit long in the tooth. Nice girl but she can’t get an order right to save her life.
I’m just sick to death of being sold on who is hot. I know who is hot, I have eyes. I can make up my own mind and I get pissed when a magazine or internet site presumes to dictate to me. People magazine should put out their annual list of the 100 most powerful publicists because that’s all their “most beautiful” list is. When I think about it a bit more it’s not even my eyes that make the final decision. It’s my dick. In my head I carry around a list of the top 100 vaginas my dick would like to end up in. To talk about it in any other way is just disingenuous. That’s what we’re really talking about. Physical attractiveness. The body carrying the DNA that my DNA would like to mingle with.
It has nothing to do with paparazzi or publications pimping glamour, it has to do with sex. Sorry but I don’t make the rules, I just revel in them. You can’t throw a rock on Venice Beach without hitting a smoking hot girl and believe me when I tell you that none of the Hollywood chicks fuck like a $1,000-a-night hooker in Vegas (I had a coupon). I have zero interest in the 40-something actress whose career is slowing down so she decides to romp around on a beach somewhere in a bikini to get some attention. You’re old! I don’t care! Fuck off!
Truth is if she has a daughter I’d probably rather bang her.
There’s nothing I enjoy more than to watch some vapid twat start to age badly. You know the types I’m talking about, they become well-known because they flash their tits or beaver in a movie when they’re 22 and then for the next five or six years we have to endure them being interviewed and taken seriously. It fills my heart with joy when I read about how their fake breasts popped or their fourth facelift went horribly wrong. “Put a bag over your empty head” I scream with a smile that threatens to have the corners of my mouth meet in the back of my head.
Don’t get me started on designers. What a bunch of self-absorbed dickholes. If only they could all be rounded up and forced to work at Sears for the rest of their lives. The way our culture not only tolerates them but makes them relevant is crazy to me. I see the dresses that these Hollywood dipshits wear. They end up looking one of two ways: they either look nice in the same way they’d look nice if they went to the mall and picked out a new dress or they look stupid in a “Look at me! Look at me! I’m trying too hard!” way.
The most amazing thing is that people buy into this shit. Plumbers and firemen and teachers and people that actually work for a living tune in to see these empty-headed multi-millionaire idiots parade up and down on their way to movie premieres and award shows honoring themselves.
Are we all fucked in the head? Fuck these people and double fuck the ones that are being touted as “beautiful.” They’re just normal people. I bet there’s a girl walking into the local deli that I’d rather see naked than any of the top 100 as decided by a collection of jaded ex-runway-jockey douchebags.
For once in your soulless lives be honest with the public. Don’t be like the Miss America pageant which tries to tell us that decisions on hotness should be based on how a girl looks in an evening gown as opposed to a wet t-shirt. Shake that ass Miss Vermont if you want my vote.
Ok, I’m really off the rails now. I think you get the general idea though.
Fuck Hollywood, fuck People magazine and triple fuck Gwyneth Paltrow because she’s not the most beautiful woman in the world. On a good day she’s barely in the top billion.
Just stop it.
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