Take off that stupid fucking shirt. You're her 'boyfriend' not a 12 year old girl at her concert.
Happy America day and all that...on to something in pop culture that is more ridiculous and offensive than Trump...I'm kidding, nothing is. I don't usually take a vapid interest in celebrities' love lives, in fact I've come to believe that everything is just one giant PR stunt. Especially when it come to Taylor Swift. Whereas prior I thought she dated guys or material (you definitely see more candid paparazzi photos right before a new album of hers comes out) I'm starting to think that she just desperately wants the publicity.
Instead of writing yet ANOTHER break up song or for that matter break up album...she should write a song called 'My Vagina's Magic'. It has a nice ring to it, and I'm convinced some kind o witchery is involved to bag a Hiddleston. Up to this point, her revolving door of boyfriends have been meh at best. Not exactly prime breeding material. But great for her next basic bitch anthem.
She's got a blank space baby...and she'll write your name...Hiddleston if you don't get the fuck out.
Apart from basically all reasons that make them incompatible, let's consider this. Tom Hiddleston went to RADA and appeared in many Shakespeare plays at the Old Vic before breaking into film, I'm not trying to be elitist, but TS is not exactly in his intellectual group. I can't even imagine what they talk about. After watching a few of her interviews I'm going to say something to do with her cats?
Now he's spending time with her girl squad. The pictures honestly make him look like that really creepy dude in his thirties who hangs out with millenials...which is kind of exactly the case.
Another thing; if you went on twitter the other day, what's trending? Not the Turkey airport bombing, not Bagdad, but Hiddleston's ridiculous tank top. Little backstory, I'll try to give it to you without getting nauseous. Grown man, college graduate, esteemed actor Tom Hiddleston wore an I Heart TS t-shirt. For the love of god. The internet couldn't stop being embarrassed for him. I've done a few embarrassing things in my life...ok a lot of embarrassing things, but I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed via third party.
Where exactly in this group of fools does Hiddleston fit? Go stand in between Karlie Kloss and Gigi Hadid, it will make you look like even more of an asshole.
Did they have some kind of sleepover the night prior and Hiddleston got talked into some kind of dare? Did they then retreat to Taylor's mansion where they painted his nails and braided his hair? Come on Tom, you're a grown man not that creeper at the bar who hits on girls half his age. Please don't tell me they made you drink cosmopolitans either. It was just ghastly and wrong, and there goes my witchery angle. No way in hell does a man that is respected in the arts, that's a RADA graduate, a serious actor, who votes and pays taxes behave like that. Taylor's vagina must really be magic. Either that or her squad knows some serious brain washing techniques. If so, Urban Outfitters (known for making ridiculously offensive T-shirts) needs to put out a 'Free Hiddleston' t-shirt, overpriced cotton-poly blend, and extra soft? Get on that because this has quickly devolved from ridiculous to embarrassing to just plain sad.
The two supposedly met at the Met Gala, but I have a feeling Taylor hunted him down right after her and Calvin called it quits, and made sure that a photographer was there. I mean who can resist a gothy skinny bitch who can't dance?
They've been officially online for like only a month, and for this short time, they've done nothing but profuse PDA for the camera. We know more about their relationship than they probably know about each other. And in that short time, they've met each other's parents, and have traveled all over the world. Something doesn't smell right.
Post script: There might not be that much to freak out about. There is a lot going around the interwebs that the whole thing is a Joaquin Phoenix I'm Still Here piece of performance art. Hiddleston is a fabulous actor after all. If so, I'm very excited for the basic AF music video...do I sound jealous? I'm so not jealous.
I seriously cannot believe it's taken me so long to watch A Royal Affair (2012) but it's been sitting quietly in my Netflix queue until the other day when I was driving up Sunset Blvd. and saw Madds Mikkelsen in a very ill-fitting pair of suede pants (yes, suede in May) walking down the street towards The Coffee Bean. I've heard pieces about it here and there, most of them good, but no one saying it's pretty damn close to a perfect movie, which it completely is.
An affair begins in shadows. How's that for pretentious?
It is a Danish historical drama that made the rounds at some important festivals last year and even landed a nomination for Best Foreign Language Film at last years Oscars, shamefully it didn't win.
It tells the true story of a British princess betrothed to a psychotic and somewhat slow-in-the-head Danish king and is forced to relinquish all over her customs, language, and family and move to Denmark to begin a bizarre life with a bizarre man. Although The Princess Caroline Mathilde (Alicia Vikander) is unbelievably beautiful, like right out of a Botticelli painting beautiful, the king does not enjoy 'visiting her bed chamber' if ya know what I mean, because he'd rather get wasty-pants and do it with some nasty hooker, his words...no seriously. But it's in Danish so it doesn't sound so trashy.
The requisite naked-in-a-copper-bathtub scene, every period piece has one, it's in the rule books somewhere.
Time passes, and the king (Mikkel Følsgaard) grows more more and more despondent and insane due to what his trusted advisers believe to be 'excessive masturbation', so they audition doctors from far and wide to be the king's personal physician. Out of the few that make the rounds is a strangely attractive and mysterious small-town idealist and cheerleader for the incoming Enlightenment movement of Rousseau, Voltaire, and John Locke (and others that character names from Lost were based on) doctor named Johann Struensee (Madds Mikkelsen). It's beyond obvious that sooner or later this young impressionable now-queen and idealist doctor will begin a passionate love affair as she has a secret gateway to her bed chamber, and no that's not code for anything, that's actually in the film. I mean, he's the only one who doesn't wear powdered wigs and rouge, with those ridiculous white silk stalkings they thought looked so fly back in the 18th century.
Madds has that rugged primal manliness...thing that you just can't put your finger on, you just know it's there, although you'd like to put your finger on it.
It's a bit obvious the queen is in need of some real man-lovin' and he's more than obliged to give it to her, but you know what? They end up falling in love, and everything falls apart as it does when love gets in the way of really steamy caressing and intercourse set to classical music. But as a historical drama it works brilliantly. It tells the actual love story and the tragedy of it, although totally inevitably, in such a passionate way that you still fall for it, and by the end of it are wiping away tears saying how you would totally give up all your worldly possessions and live in exile as she's eventually forced to if you could have a love affair like that, but you won't because it's 2013, and shit like internet dating exists.
I swear 18th century costumes make any plot line sexier. That's also on the books.
It's brilliantly shot, and executed, and as a film is almost pitch perfect in narrative, aesthetic, and every other possible detail. Every time I see a costume that astounds me I immediately thought 'take that Sofia Coppola!' and that's always a good thing. This is a film that gets it right, and really reminds us that true love and romance did in fact exist at one point, where people sacrificed everything for it, and it's not like Grey's Anatomy at all out there, you just would have had to have lived 200 years ago, when there was no indoor plumbing. So you take the good with the bad. But seriously, watch this film. It's streaming on Netflix. I don't want any excuses.
(Warning:
Contains endless Arrested Development quotes) Let’s see, what do I do with my
time? Like what do I watch how do I keep current? Well since I have a job (It’s
something you apply for, and they pay you…) I only have about a couple hours a
day. One in the morning when I wake up and get ready, and one in the evening when I get home. After I work out, and before I shower and eventually crash. So I leave those time
slots open for my current sick obsession with everything Benedict Cumberbatch,
so I’m watching Sherlock (2010 - Present), which I’ve already blogged about, so douche chill…
The
only other show I watch is of course The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills
(2009 - Present) because it makes me feel better about myself, though I have to watch it through a hole I cut in a paper plate because of all the HD shiny. As you know, I blog a
shit ton about that show as well. So basically outside my office, I have those
two things to tell me about the world around me. Skinny blonde bitches in
Loubitins and ridiculously complicated and convoluted crimes in England that
I’m too stupid to almost follow. But instead of silently saying a prayer that
they combine the two shows and have one of the housewives found in a pool of
her own blood(I can’t say which
one because ‘that’s a lawsuit’ but we all know who I mean) with Benedict
standing above her saying something smug and demeaning, I’ll get back and go
full circle (ugh, mixing metaphors) to the show I’ve loved the absolute most
since it entered my muddy world and made it beautiful back in 2003; Arrested
Development, which Netflix had the wherewithall to renew for a season showing
exclusively on their website (Them?)
They’ve basically told everyone
else to fuck off, even if it means them taking a chubby, they will suck it up.
Now, let’s get out of our excited-as-fuck skirt and put on our thought-process
Barbara Streisand in the Prince of Tides ass-masking pants suit.
I mean this is huge. The show was
cancelled almost 7 years ago and we STILL talk about it. It’s probably the
biggest hit cult series there is, and FOX execs are pieces of shit. I’m sorry,
but you are. But let’s not dwell on our anger. I want to go through that
beautiful magic of the first three seasons and decide finally who is the
biggest perv of the series. And I’ll tell you one thing, it’s probably not who
you’re thinking.
You’re thinking GOB because he
dates whores, underage girls, and throws freezing cold water over the shirts of
his entirely female baseball team and almost always makes an impromptu sexual
innuendo when speaking, but it’s not. That’s just part of his adorably
ridiculous character, that even I’ve grown to love.
Tobias' acting resume headshots
Next, you’re probably thinking
it’s Tobias, because literally everything that comes out of his mouth is a
sexual reference of some sort, usually attributed to the ‘is Tobias gay
question’ that always lingers in the background. But hey, you didn’t get any
body chocolate, and actually that’s not even his major arc so no dice on that
one.
Then we have the idiot somewhat
savant-ish brother Buster, who is one hell of a freak. He comes home sometimes
at 7, 8 at night, peanut brittle on his breath, and builds pillow forts with
Liza Minelli. I mean he’s a fraaaak. But he’s completely clueless. Remember
when he was dating Michael’s rabid assistant and terrified when she wanted to
take things to the next level? Mother complex or not, he’s an innocent.
'my own brother...Michael'
Then of course we have Michael.
The hopeless romantic who’s ‘sensitive like a woman’, and just can’t help
himself when it comes to a gal with a giggly smile and a pair of soft blue
eyes, the lack of sex with which would make anyone crave a 15$ thing of candy
beans. But it is his romanticism that crosses him off the perv ladder, because
all he’ll ever do to you in bed is hold you close and whisper shit in your ear
and you’d get bored if not for the wondrous adorable-ness of him.
If you were thinking Lucille all
along, then ding ding ding. You’ve won the grand prize, which is respect from
me. Think of it, she’s the classic pervert, more so than any of the men in her
life put together. She seduced not only George Sr. but his brother Oscar, and
can basically make them do anything she wants (More touching!). She likes to go
‘downtown’ and being ‘lied on’ rather than ‘lied to’. And that wink of hers could be the most
perverted thing I’ve ever seen, but at least we don’t have to ‘say goodbye to
these because it’s the last time!!!’ because I have no doubt we’ll be seeing
them on Netflix soon enough. Now get me a Vodka rocks. But it’s breakfast? And a
piece of toast.
Her?
Honorable mention goes to: Kitty,
George’s fiercely loyal assistant, Maeby for her obsession with idiot Steve
Holt and unabashed attraction to her own cousin, Marla Michael’s assistant who
was bitten by a rabid dog and has a cryptic attachment to Quincy Jones, and of
course, Lucille II…because it’s Liza and that’s all I need. I leave you with the best of...
