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Lord knows I can be hard on Sienna Miller, because I think she’s shameless, utterly useless and… well… rather used-up-looking trash. Also I’ve never seen a remarkable performance submitted by her, and I really don’t know why she’s famous, save for toting the same ratty Balenciaga bag around for years, and laying a fun amalgam of unusual male conquests.
However, as Jen–with barfy reluctance–pointed out to me this week: there may be a more serious side to the wacktress. One of Jen’s friends actually just finished leading Miller on a humanitarian visit through the Congo, which the starlet travel-blogged about on the Huffington Post. Hmm.
Suddenly, I realized that it’s possible that I’m just a judgemental, hateful person. A grouchy sour-graper with a laptop and an attitude, who shouldn’t necessarily get on some high horse to criticize those in the public eye–people like Sienna Miller who simply can’t catch a break from the media when they make mistakes, people like Sienna Miller who don’t have the luxury of being able to start over and try again without the scrutiny ofzZzzZZZzzzzzZzzzzzzzzZzz.
Oh, who am I kidding? I still hate the bitch.
Filed under: Attempts at Validity, Great Lays, Haterasian, Huffington Post, Humanitarian Missions, Paparazzi Whores, Sienna Miller is Famous for...for...Uh, Sienna Miller is Gross, The Congo, Wacktors
We’ve decided to try our hand at this “vlogging” business, even though we like the word “vlog” about as much as Tila Tequila enjoys her annual Pap Smear.
Our first topic of discussion? Why nobody seems to want to wear pants anymore.
See if you think our explanasian has any, er, legs.
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Happy Valentine’s Day!
Page Six, ever the bearer of truthful word, reported today that wow-and-I-do-mean-wow-face Mickey Rourke was accosted by Bai Ling at Hollywood’s Chateau Marmont just the other night. In Richard Johnson’s own icky words, the odd duo “made out and partied pretty hard.”
I’ll be honest. My gut reaction was to write: Dude, I thought Rourke was freaking uh-mazing in his unrelenting lead role in ‘The Wrestler‘. That, however, did not cause me to hearken back to his younger, more beautiful days, and rekindle a desire to suck his mangled face. Dude, Bai. Do your Adductor thigh muscles only respond to IMDB stats? What is the deal?
Then, of course, I had to go and do what I loathe most: a little research. This naturally led me down a slippery slope to one of Bai Ling’s online biographies–which includes the following blurb about her personal life:
She is friends with Kimberly Stewart. She dated a play actor in the mid-1980s in China, and music composer Qu Xiao-Song in the mid 1990s, and Chris Isaak 1999-2001. She was briefly said to be romantically linked to Backstreet Boy Nick Carter. Rumors spread that Bai was engaged to him, but Carter denied the rumors, saying they were “just friends”. More recently, Ling has been linked to Dionne Warwick’s son, Damon Elliott, though the two are not currently dating.
ZzzZzZzzzzSo… okay. How can anyone with even a pittance of warmth in their heart (that’s about all I’ve got) look at that sad little collection of facts and not feel kinda bad for the poor woman? Ling’s personal life, despite her fondness for dancing and easily accessible breasts, actually seems duller than Sienna Miller’s mangy hair. I wouldn’t wish that kind of dry love life on anyone, not even this crazy bitch.
So instead, I’m really very psyched for Ling, and happy about the fact that she got some aggressive tongue action the other night, even if it makes me go “Eww.” Here’s hoping she got felt up and maybe even fingerbanged! Anything to spice up that sad little paragraph.
And–guys, take a look at Rourke’s fuckin’ FACE!–I do mean anything.