Duke Of Web

What might first appear to be a horrible accident following a binge on jalapeño nachos is actually just Gisele Bundchen sporting The Best Shorts Ever Created during a photo shoot. While we’ve always considered Gisele a mild victim of butta-face, there’s no denying that her ass ranks highly on the scale of ass. If there was such a thing. By building in a revolutionary ass ventilation system, we give kudos to the designer of these shorts for realizing that functionality is just as important as fashion. Likewise, we chastise the creator of the heated car seat for not realizing that cooked ass is never a good thing. As much as we like them, we must pray that assless shorts never see mass production, unless their usage can be severely regulated. For instance, they should be sold in Miami, but not Wisconsin, the home of cheesy, pale, corn-fed, orange-peeled ass cheeks. And any male caught wearing them who is not part of a Village People tribute band should serve time in an Indonesian prison. Tom Brady is one lucky bastard.

We’ve seen plenty of pictures of George’s woman Sarah Larson, but usually she’s hobbling around on crutches or fully clothed, neither of which is very hot. Our first glimpses of Sarah followed an unfortunate motorcycle accident last year in which Clooney attempted to circumvent traffic laws and pass a Mazda making a right turn. Sarah came away with a broken foot, probably for planting it firmly in Clooney’s ass for driving like an asshole. Before servicing movie stars, Sarah’s previous gigs included eating scorpions on Fear Factor and serving booze to suicidal gamblers at The Palms in Las Vegas. Here for your amusement are some old pictures of Sarah enjoying some delightful girl-on-girl fun as a “go-go dancer” in Las Vegas. It also goes to show you that you can crank out a stinker like Ocean’s 13 and still live like a sultan.

Neighbors near Christina Aguilera’s Beverly Hills mansion are complaining that the Dirty girl and her husband are disturbing the peace with their rambunctious naked frolicking in the swimming pool. The couple, who welcomed Son Max in January, recently purchased the mansion which once belonged to bat decapitator Ozzie Osbourne and his wacky family.

As Christina explained to Star magazine “On Sundays we just do everything in the house, and we’re just cosy and laid back. We don’t need to go anywhere, we’re just with each other. We do everything naked. We even cook naked.”

These poor assholes can’t seem to get a break. First they’re subjected to the MTV film crew leaving Burger King wrappers and Red Bull cans on the grass, and the extreme misfortune of living next to annoying, nappy-headed, bespectacled Jack Osbourne along with sister Kelly, who looks like Nathan Lane in a wig. Then, as if life couldn’t get any worse, a naked blond moves in. Can a category 4 hurricane be far behind?

Unfortunately their joy was short-lived when the Osbournes moved out, only to be replaced by a hot young blond starlet with enormous flesh pillows who likes to swim naked. In calling the police, the nosy neighbors defied logic by not following common-sense protocol, which includes immediate purchase of high-powered binoculars and punching yourself in the face for being so gay.

If only that were true. If only he could succeed where Lance Bass failed, joining the Russians to be thrust into the exosphere where an unfortunate mishap would result in instant atomization. But the perma-grinned socialite with the luxurious wavy golden mane remains earthbound, blessing us with his existence. Everything about this tool is annoying, from his unnatural orange glow to his pompous first name. Unless he finds the cure for cancer or starts working in a soup kitchen for the homeless, he’s just using up valuable oxygen, prancing around Hollywood seeking out photo ops with his surgically altered and equally useless girlfriend, Heidi Montag. Actually, that’s not fair. Heidi does have one redeeming quality; frequent parading of her 22-year-old bikini-clad ass amidst paparazzi armed with an arsenal of cameras. We’re still waiting for the dirty photos to surface, like those of compatriot Audrina Partidge. Or at the very least, a Britney Spears-style upskirt as she exits a taxi.

Newsflash: Violet Baudelaire, the inventive teenage vixen from 2004’s Lemony Snickets, A Series Of Unfortunate Events is now 19-years-old. We offer this information as a public service, first because she’s been off the radar for a few years, and secondly so you don’t feel like such a lecherous pedophile for ogling her amazing pillowy lips when horror film A Tale Of Two Sisters is released later this year. Despite whispers of a Lemony Snickets sequel, it is unlikely Emily would be re-cast as the Baudelaire orphan. She was a mere 15-years-old during the shooting of the first film. Were she to return in the role now, Jim Carrey would probably have to kidnap her and dress her in cellophane and hold her in a dark, dank basement, subjecting her to forbidden erotic pleasures. That’s how our version would go, anyway.