Thursday, August 31, 2006


Aretha Franklin's bosom hangs by a thread. (Dlisted)

Pink gets the football party started. (E!)

First, K-Fed gets a spot on CSI; now he's landed a role in Entourage. Two shows just made the "DEAD TO ME" list. (Celebitchy)

Lance Armstrong trades riding his bike for riding Paris Hilton. (WWTDD?)

Lisa Rinna is a man, baby! (I'mBringingBloggingBack)

Willie Nelson let Johnny Knoxville have a hit off his doobie. (Us Weekly)

A CNN newsanchor accidentally leaves her mic on in the bathroom during President Bush's commemorative Katrina address. I'm guessing she just flushed her career down the crapper. (Hot Air)


People just keep feeding Mariah Carey's overblown self-esteem. According to Page Six, Prince Azim, son of the Sultan of Brunei, delivered an 8-carat flawless diamond and platinum necklace worth $4 million to the zaftig singer before her concert last week.

I guess Azim didn't realize that Mariah Carey is one of the "godless sodomites" manufactured by "The Great Satan." That could be kind of awkward around Ramadan, what with the whole "jihad" thing they've got going on over there.



As an upstanding American patriot, I would like to take a respite from celebrity gossip to pay homage to the men and women currently serving in the armed forces. I'm calling it "Spank-Worthy Servicemember of the Week," and if you know someone (or are someone) who serves in the military and deserves a little recognition, submit a brief bio and a picture to and I'll put them (you) up for public adulation.

Remember, folks, these are the good people who devote their lives to protecting America. And also, they wear uniforms, which is sexy. (Really, ladies, if you didn't get hot for Navy pilots after seeing "Top Gun," then you're probably a lesbian. A lesbian communist.) I'm recommending that you give the next sailor you see a "blowjob of gratitude" as thanks for providing our blanket of freedom. At the very least, you could show them your tits. The bottom line: they're doing their patriotic duty; it's time you got down on your knees and did yours.

This Week's Spank-Worthy Sailor: Craig

Rank: Lieutenant

Age: 31

Sign: Aquarius

Current Assignment: Tropical Support Officer, Naval Maritime Forecast Activity, Norfolk.

Height: 6"1'

Weight: 200

Status: Married (sorry ladies) with 3 kids.

Why did you decide to join the Navy?

- I saw a rerun of "McHale's Navy"(that TV Show with Ernest Borgnine)..I knew right there that driving boats, chasing skirts and drinking booze was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

Which celebrity do you most love to hate?

- Count Chocula, he's like "blah blah it's part of a nutritious breakfast, blah" That pisses me off.

Tell us some of your favorite things.

Baseball Team: California Angels
Football Team: Oakland Raiders
Hobbies: Surfing and drinking Beer.
Favorite TV: Rescue Me and The Wire
Bands: Band Religion and Cowboy Mouth
Hero's: Bruce Wayne and Cavemen
Gossip Blog: Spank Cheeks

Thanks, Craig, for being the first ever "Spank-Worthy Sailor" on this site. Sailors are fucking awesome!


I thought pledging yourself to Xenu was supposed to cure you of "the gay." Maybe this is one of those "brotherly love holy kisses" actually commissioned by Scientology. Like the "brotherly love holy touching and rubbing penises," or the "brotherly love holy anal exploration." Both very comfortable and very non-gay ways of greeting another man.

Dragulf spanks it better than anyone. Thanks for the tip!



In the upcoming issue of Glamour magazine, Jessica Simpson confirms that she surgically enhanced her lips last year. She explains
“I had that Restylane stuff. It looked fake to me. I didn’t like that. But…it went away in, like, four months. My lips are back to what they were. Thank God!”
If there's anything a bimbo with fake blond extensions, false eyelashes, a mystic tan, veneers and a push-up bra hates, it's looking artificial.



A very moccasined Kate Moss was photographed leaving a restaurant in London yesterday. I assumed from her boots that she must have just finished shooting a medieval biopic about a court jester. Turns out she was just eating lunch.

That's a shame, because she would have made one swell coked-up jester. With the right hat, of course.


Wednesday, August 30, 2006


In case Tom Cruise and wife Katie Holmes haven't gotten enought negative press lately, the artist behind the "Britney Spears Giving Birth" statue has created a masterpiece called "Suri's Bronzed Baby Poop." It is, as the title suggests, a replica of Suri's first solid poo, cast in bronze. The turd sculpture goes on display this Wednesday and will remain at Brooklyn's Williamsburg gallery through September. Yahoo News adds
It will then be up for auction on eBay, with proceeds going to the March of Dimes. Limited edition plaster replicas will also be for sale.
I guess a pile of feces is the only logical place to go after creating a replica of Britney Spears' bulging bronzed vagina. Avant-garde artists always like to incite a little controversy -- like Chris Burden, who nailed himself crucifixation-style to the hood of a Volkswagen Beetle, or Andres Serrano, who put a crucifix in a jar of his own tinkle and photographed it. Of course, by "avant-garde," I mean "complete fucking waste of space," and by "artist" I mean "socially retarded jerk-off."

Thanks to the spanktabulous Dragulf for the tip, and uberspankable Zanna for the title!



Meredith Viera signs her death warrant. (E!)

John Voight confuses his adopted granddaughter with a Latin pop singer. (Dlisted)

Official KISS makeup kits will be available in September. Now, to find a black spandex body suit with interlocking rings and chain detailing. (TMZ)

Jessica Simpson manages to find an outfit even more hideous than the paisley housecoat in the previous post. (Hollywood Tuna)

A Beyonce barely-there nipple slip. More like an "areola sighting." (Yeeeah!)

Katie Couric looks 40 pounds heavier before photoshop. (Seriously? OMG! WTF?)

"Bong Hits for Jesus?" Hell yes. It's your constitutional right. (MSN)*

See Scarlett Johannsen making out with sea creatures in Bob Dylan's new video. (Best Week Ever)

Some random reader who loves babies sent me this. I don't know what the hell it is, but until my BlogAds come through, I'll put your shit out there. "Someday, and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughter's wedding day." Or some shit like that. (LilDuckDuck)

*link courtesy of the spankalicious Zanna


If you thought Paula Abdul couldn't look or sound any more fucked up than she did on the last season of American Idol, watch this post-Emmys E! interview on YouTube. It shames everything else she's ever done, including that time she fell down the stairs and crashed into a table at a party. Defamer adds
"Be sure to hang around until the 1:28 mark, shortly after which Paula appears to have a massive stroke while attempting to describe how Idol auditions have been going."
At any moment you expect her to start hiccoughing and show her tits, and then maybe start crying and tell the interviewers how much she loves them.


If Sacajawea were a "firecrotch" and starred in porno, these are the boots she'd be wearing in the "Lewis & Clark Double Team" scene.

Lindsay Lohan has impeccable taste in shoes.


Macaulay Culkin celebrated his 26th birthday with girlfriend Mila Kunis, a case of Maker's Mark, and a mohawk.

I did a little research, and found that it takes the average person exactly 2250 mililiters of whiskey to repress the memories of 2003's "Party Monster" and 1994's "Getting Even with Dad." So, with the help of a little something I call "math," we can deduce from the number of bottles in that case the precise number of people that actually showed up at his b'day bash. Macaulay boozed it up with... let's see... where x is represents number of partiers, and pi, and y = 750 ml (per bottle)... wait, use the quadratic formula.... um, three people.

God knows how long it actually took to find three people who could stand an evening with Macaulay Culkin, even if there was free whiskey around.

Alert spankee Italian Stallion recognized that the bottles in Macaulay's crate are actually Hennessy, not Maker's Mark as I had previously reported. Both liquor bottles have red tops, but I should have known better and paid more attention. I just assumed that if Macaulay was carrying around a crate of Hennessy he'd have a geri curl and a clock on a gold chain around his neck. Not a mohawk. Who knew?



Jessica Simpson has a new boyfriend! Try not to squeal through the hand that's covering your mouth: it's John Mayer, the musician responsible for such chart-toppers as "Your Body is a Wonderland" and "Bigger than My Body." You may better remember him as the inventor of "The Musical Enema." Little known fact: the next time you're irregular, try listening to Any Given Thursday from Track One to Track 14 and see if your colon doesn't empty right there on the spot.

Mayer is co-headlining a tour with Sheryl Crow, and Jessica is expected to be front and center at the Jones Beach, N.Y. stop tonight. She was already in New York promoting her new stinkbomb, A Public Affair, but somehow a "bruised her vocal cord" caused her to lose her voice.

A bruised vocal cord? Below are the three popular theories behind Jessica's "bruised vocal cord" enigma:

A. Somebody punched her in the throat for stealing their Nana's dressing gown and wearing it in public.

B. A Jewish mobster head-butted her in the neck for stealing his sunglasses.

C. John Mayer has a cock the size of a salami.

All very plausible theories, although I have to admit that I can't believe that anyone who wrote "Daughters" has a penis at all.



This month's issue of Flaunt magazine has a pretty sexy layout of actress Eva Mendes. It's nice and all, but not really worth mentioning (in fact, I was just perusing for Mendestic nipple slips, to be honest) but I caught the words Ghost Rider out of the corner of my eye and the layout instantly became newsworthy. Upon reading the words "co-starring with Nic Cage in the comic book adaptation of Ghost Rider," I did a comedic double-take -- replete with a "Whaaa?" and an incredulous neck crane towards the monitor -- before a midget in a bow tie threw a glass of water in my face and snapped me back to reality.

Well... I think that's what happened. I might have been having another acid flashback and just pissed my pants again. I don't know anymore. Bottom line, I was wet, either from a glass of midget-water or my own urine. However, I do know for sure that Eva Mendes is starring in the Marvel Comic's cinematic colossus about a flaming un-dead skeleton motorcycle rider, so that ought to suck the sexy right out of these pictures. Meet the new patron saint for seventh grade boys everywhere.


Tuesday, August 29, 2006


If you thought playing "Slater" on Saved by the Bell was the gayest thing Mario Lopez has ever done, think again. (Dlisted)

See Tara Reid humilated. Again. (TMZ)

Matthew Broderick breaks his collarbone in a fall from a horse. No, a real horse, not Sarah Jessia Parker. (People)

Matt LeBlanc is being sued by a stripper for "defamation." No, not "defecation," defamation. Although no word on who actually defecated on his acting career. (A Socialite's Life)

If watching Angelina faux-orgasming while applying lip gloss doesn't make you want to buy Shiseido, nothing will. (MollyGood)


People falling down is always funny. It's especially funny if the person is really fat, or if they're strapped to a parasail, or if they just got hit in the groin. And it's also funny if the person is a whorish, self-important reality TV star with an eating disorder and a freakishly large head.

Nicole Richie and some necrophiliac were enjoying an afternoon outing when the nutrient-deprived muscles in her legs suddenly gave out. Okay, so I'm guessing that's what happened. It could have been that those enormous sun-goggles distorted her vision and made her lose her balance. Or maybe her ballet flats are really hard to walk in. Either way, Nicole Richie fell down, and that's funny because I fucking hate her.



Paris Hilton has paid a reported $200,000 for a place on Richard Branson's Virgin Enterprise rocket. The space shuttle has yet to be built, but apparently, outer space is in dire need of sluts. Paris acquired her seat before finding out that there are no bathroom facilities onboard and that all passengers are required to wear diapers. A source says,
"She was a fan of the 'Star Wars' films and the idea of blasting into space thrills her, but I don't think she's done the research -- the reality may not be her idea of fun."
The idea of Paris Hilton swimming in her own feces while orbiting the Earth thousands of miles away is like some wonderful dream magically brought to life. Now if they could just find a way to provide continuous live feed of the other passengers taking turns kicking her square in the puss.



Rapping whore Foxy "Lopsided Nipples" Brown pleaded guilty on Monday to misdemeanor assault charges stemming from a fight she started where she "be gettin' her nails did." Foxy, apparently uninterested in actually paying for her manicure, kicked one employee of Bloomie Nails and slapped another one in the face in August of 2004. The plea deal mandates three years of probation and anger management classes in turn for avoiding jail time. Right after the plea, Foxy changed her mind and tried to return to the courtroom and withdraw it, saying she had been "rushed." The judge did not relent.

I can't imagine why she would want to withdraw a plea that effectively eliminated possible jail time for misdemeanor assault. Unless, maybe somehow, she preferred the jail time. You know, for improving her "street cred." I guess it's difficult to be "hard" if you're sitting in an anger management class next to some old white dudes with road rage. And she probably has an album forthcoming. "Serving jail time" is the preferred method for the rap industry to promote soon-to-be dropped albums -- what with the free press (news coverage) in a perfect setting (jail) surrounded by your target demographic (people in jail). If you could throw in a unsolved stabbing, you'd be guaranteed to go platinum. Word.



Why is Paris crying, you ask? Well, she's crying because Cher's son told everybody that she's a dirty slut with a diseased cooter. Elijah Blue Allman informed Howard Stern last week that he banged the overexposed socialite pre-reality-star-famedom. Allman went on to say that he became so worried that he might have contracted herpes that he scrubbed his private parts with Tilex.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Is banged even a word?" Yes, it is, assholes. Banged is the simple past tense of "bang," although instinctively, I wanted to type "bung." Given that Elijah was banging (past progressive) the sluttiest whore in Slutterdom, it somehow seemed like a terrifically apropos word. The correct use of the words "bang" and "bung" is as follows:

Paris Hilton probably let Elijah Allman put it in her bung hole when he banged her.

Grammar lesson # 3161 compliments of Spank Cheeks. Study hard; there may be a pop quiz tomorrow.


Monday, August 28, 2006


You can buy K-Fed's partially eaten corn dog on Ebay. (Mollygood)

Try the hot new menu item at McDonald's -- the "McFlap." Very NSFW, but fucking hilarious. (Tranny and Zanna)

Some skank flashes her boobies at the Butterscotch Stallion in London. (Seriously? OMG! WTF?)

Marines force Sadaam Hussein to watch himself portrayed as the devil's gay lover in the South Park movie. Over and over and over again. Hoo-rah Devil Dogs! (Yeeeah!)

The Indian chick from "The Office" has a brief Emmy nip slip. (Egotastic!)

Sexy black and whites of Angelina showcasing her tats. That's tats, not "tits," perverts. (Popoholic)


Tom Cruise was named one of the winners of the 14th annual Ernie Awards, an award doled out to celebrities and politicians who make sexist comments in public.

Tom "I Love the Cock" Cruise won for saying "I've got Katie tucked away so no one will get to us until my child is born ... [Katie's] life from now on was going to be about being a mother. I'm not giving her the chance to turn into another Nicole." They omitted the rest of the statement, which read, "And I'm changing her name and keeping her in a chamber and using her uterus to facilitate my evil plan to take over the world." Also pretty sexist, if you ask me.

You may not have read about the other ten awards Tommy has won over the years. I made a list for you.

10. Most Nauseating Silhouette Kiss, Top Gun, 1986

9. Highest Couch-Jump, Harpo Studios, 2005

8. Best Intergalatic Emporer Costume, Scientology Halloween Bash, 2003

7. Winner, Lilliputian Ballsac Award, 2003

6. Most Convincing Heterosexual Kiss, Mission Impossible III Premiere, 2006

5. Most Uncomfortable Televised Interview, The Today Show, 2005

4. Hottest Hollywood Beard, Penelope Cruz, 2004

3. Most Un-Sexy Movie Sex Scene, Eyes Wide Shut, 1999

2. Fruit of the Loom's "Most Enthusiastic Underpants Dance," Risky Business,1983

1. Winner, Best Placenta Recipe, Scientology Grillfest, 2006

UPDATE: is reporting this morning that Tom Cruise never actually made those statements about Katie. He wrongly recieved the Ernie for something he never said.

However, his people are not disputing any of the aforementioned awards, so you know they are all absolutely true. Scout's honor.

Thanks to the spankalicious Wiley for the tip.


Guess who mysteriously couldn't make it to the premiere of her own movie? Kate Hudson skipped out of the London debut of "You, Me and Dupree" on August 22, fueling the rumors of an affair with her on-screen co-star Owen Wilson. The Butterscotch Stallion made it to the U.K., but for some reason, he refused to be photographed standing next to a picture of Kate while on the red carpet. Us Weekly reports
"When photographers tried to shoot the cast standing next to the film’s enlarged promotional poster, Wilson refused to stand next to Poster Kate and pushed costar Michael Douglas into that spot instead."
Pretty fucking clever, that guy. There's no way he's porking Kate Hudson if nobody can get a picture of them together. He could probably rob a bank or maybe even kill a puppy, just as long as nobody photographed him standing next to the victims. Or pictures of the victims. I think the French call that a "Trompe L'Oeil." Loosely translated, "A Sure-Fire Way to Trick Retarded People."



I never realized that the "H" in "FHM" stood for heifer. Janet, you can take a bunch of fucking steroids, drop forty pounds and have a tekkie shop some abs on you, but a heifer is still a heifer. And where I come from, we call that "polishin' a turd."

The guys over there at "Fat Heifer Magazine" are pretty smart. I'd have covered my couch with a plastic tarp, too, before I'd let Ms. Jackson splay her disgusting cooch all over it. I bet the photographers are wearing hazmat suits and carrying Holy Water.

I discovered a little known fact while perusing the interview: Janet Jackson is actually distant relative of the Argentine leaf-folding frog. Note the striking resemblance.

Of course, the frog is prettier.

Photo Source


I don't know why I even bother watching the Emmy's. It's clearly not a popularity contest, or even a contest at all. I'm pretty sure that they just put all the nominee's names in a hat and draw backstage before the show. It should be renamed "The Awards Raffle for Television Celebrities."

In the first fifteen minutes "Karen" from Will and Grace and "some old dude" from the West Wing both won the best supporting actor awards. Who fucking watches Will and Grace, unless it's on rerun at one a.m. and your roommate "borrowed" all your porn? And the West fucking Wing? I don't know a single living person that actually watches this show. I thought it had been off the air for two years. I finally quit watching after "Elaine" from Seinfeld won an emmy. I mean, I love Seinfeld, but come on.

The highlight of the show (besides The Office winning best comedy and Jack Bauer winning best actor in a drama) was Stephen Colbert calling the audience "godless sodomites" and demanding that Babylon "kneel before the golden idol." Tori Spelling managed to make it to the show at the last minute -- seated comfortably away from her frog-eyed mother -- but there were no awkward encounters or catfights. Yawn.

If you're interested in who actually won what, click here. Now, for what everyone really cares about: "The Golden Paddle," the Spank Cheeks Emmy Awards.

Looked Really Ugly:

Megan Mullaly. So ugly, in fact, I'm not even including a picture. Imagine a flight attendant's uniform with a touch more cleavage. Sad, old, National Geographic cleavage.

Chintziest Ruffled Dress:

Sandra Oh. She could have used a few more baubles. Not enough going on here with the ruffles and the ruching and the necklaces and bracelets.

Sluttiest Cocktail Waitress Dress:

Vanessa Minillo. Nice "spangles." I had a band uniform with some of the exact gold detailing.

Ugliest Pantyhose Back Ice Skater Costume Detailing:

Cheryl Hines

My New Lesbian Love Interest:

Evangeline Lilly. Now this is old-school glamour. Thank God she didn't coif her hair into those retro-fifties waves everyone else was sporting.

Sexiest Dress:

Katherine Heigl. Hands down. Not wild about the hair, and someone should have told her about the chicken-cutlet inserts replacing the padding. It looked a bit lumpy underneath. Vintage Escada, fit like a glove, might make out with her if I'd been drinking and Evangeline wasn't around.

Biggest Waste of $55,000:

Tyra Banks. Homegirl looks wide. And boring. And I fucking hate bows.

Best Vampire:

Ricky Gervais, Co-Producer of The Office.

Hairiest Man Cleavage:

Simon Cowell. Italian mobsters everywhere heave a sigh of relief.

Friday, August 25, 2006


I guess Marc Anthony's spunk finally took. (Seriously? OMG! WTF?)

Would you like to smell like Lindsay Lohan's stank without actually having to fuck her? (Hollywood Tuna)

Tom Cruise has a new glib best friend. (Us Weekly)

Lindsay Lohan takes a lesson from Naomi Campbell. No, not the "coking it up" one, the "hitting your assistant" one. (A Socialite's Life)


Pete Doherty can't seem to keep his nose clean. Literally.

A security guard at the Priory Clinic caught him sneaking cocaine to a teenager in the middle of the night. After the "incident" with the nurse earlier this week, Doherty was supposed to be tightly supervised during 10pm to 8am curfew. The Sun reports
"[Doherty] managed to sneak into the adolescent addiction unit of the North London clinic on Tuesday. Doherty, 27, was hauled before rehab bosses and told he would be banned from EVERY Priory in the UK if he re-offended. A source said: 'Pete’s been drinking in The Last Chance Saloon for years. This is it. He has broken his bail by having drugs and shown contempt for the law and morality yet again. These are impressionable kids addicted to drugs. The last thing they need is a junkie rock star turning up with a wrap of cocaine.'"
Pete Doherty is slowly moving from "strung-out musician" to "that weirdo at the play ground who offers kiddies drugs and sprays people with blood and smells like piss and mumbles incoherently." And let me tell you, it's pretty hard to bounce back from being "that weirdo." It's taken me nearly three years. For the record, though, I never smelled like piss. Vomit, maybe, but not piss. That's just disgusting.



Mariah Carey hit up Madison Square Garden this week on the New York stop of her World Tour. Nobody bothered to tell her that she had forgotten her clothes and that her bra and control-top bloomers were showing. Funny thing is, she remembered to wear a cape and a necklace. Oh, and shoes and full make-up. I guess "pants" are trickier than they seem.

Jay-Z showed up half-way through the show and slouched and squatted around onstage during a few of her songs. Remarkably, his pants somehow made it to the show.



Actor William H. Macy will not tolerate tardiness. Especially tardiness at the hands of a coked-up slutbag who can't remember what day it is, let alone what time she's supposed to be at work. He says of "Bobby" co-star Lindsay Lohan
"You can't show up late. It's very, very disrespectful. I think what [she] has to realize [is that] when you show up an hour late, 150 people have been scrambling to cover for you. There is not an apology big enough in the world to have to make 150 people scramble. It's nothing but disrespect. And Lindsay Lohan is not the only one. A lot of actors show up late as if they're God's gift to the film. It's inexcusable. They should have their asses kicked."
Suggesting that Lindsay Lohan needs her ass kicked just bought William H.Macy a "Get Out of Jail Free" card from the honorable Spank Cheeks. He was officially "dead to me" after I wasted 188 minutes of my life watching the insufferably cryptic "Magnolia." If one more arthouse asshole tries to explain the Biblical signifigance of the frog-rain ending, I swear I'll start kicking some asses. Starting with Lindsay Lohan. Bitch has to learn you just can't be tardy.


WHAT'S THAT ON ANGELINA'S FINGER? is claiming to have caught a glimpse of a wedding ring on Angelina Jolie's finger. No one knows if the band Angie wears in her upcoming Shiseido ads is there as a part of the cosmetic campaign, or whether it is the first real hint at an engagement.

I don't want to disappoint any Brangelina hopefuls out there, but I can say with absolute certainty that the only ring that Brad and Angie will ever be exchanging is probably a cock-ring. A cock-ring that comes with a ball-gag and some nipple clamps. A diamond might be "forever," but a six-hour erection can mean a whole night of happiness.



Is that Cammy Diaz, or did Aeon Flux go hunting?

Thursday, August 24, 2006


Heather Locklear's skirt has no secrets. (I'm Not Obsessed)

Andy Roddick forgets to zip his pants. (Queerty)

Kevin Federline is so cool, he smokes cigarettes underwater. (Pink is the New Blog)

Cindy Crawford sells her soul to the plastic devil. (Faded Youth)

Ever wish you could hold a gun to an American Idol contestant's head? Somebody actually did. (Best Week Ever)

Brad and Angie take in a photo exhibit. I'm guessing pictures of the perverse sexual rituals of cannabilistic African tribes. Or maybe kittens hanging from tree limbs. (x17)

Brandon Davis is hocking the family jewels. Now, if he would just cut off his own. (NY Daily News)


Rumors have been swirling that Nicole "Vomitron" Richie is dating Brody Jenner. Jenner and the Vomitron have been photographed having casual lunches together, shopping in Malibu, and most recently, leaving hot spot "Hyde" (above).

Now, I couldn't give a shit about the Vomitron or who she's dating, and I don't even know who the tool she's with actually is. What I care about here is this picture of her disgusting cavernous chest. I've never been able to actually see the clavicle and sternum and adjoining ribs so well on her before.

It's a matter of time before she looks like this and stops shitting altogether.


Take a good look here at the recently-upholstered Mischa Barton. She looks relatively normal; her legs look like the toned, fit legs of a twenty-something actress/model. But then, she turns, and:
What the fuck? I'm not entirely sure if that's Mischa or my great aunt Fannie Mae sporting cowboy boots. It looks like a fucking cheese souffle that collapsed on itself. All the dimpling and rippling and unholiness. It's just wrong.