Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Just In Time for the Holidays - It's the Robert Pattinson Titkerchief!

Let me preface this by saying that this is not a mass-produced item and it won't be coming soon to a store near you!!! So settle down, you hear???

Ladies, you have all probably heard of the "Cami-Secret"/Boob Apron by now... You know - the lazy-person's cami? The tit dickey? That little kleenex-sized piece of fabric that you attach to your bra and stick in your cleavage to cover up your bosom and pretend you're all respectable-like? The thing that was invented by someone who spends their time inventing hokey gadgets instead of writing a Twilight blog and who is now laughing all the way to the bank? No? Well just in case you need reminding... [Note: this video parody is not suitable for young ears.]

THAT thing!

Depending on how you look at it, the titkerchief is either a blessing or a curse. Do you sometimes look in the mirror and say "erm, that's a lotta tit for daytime..." before going and finding something else to wear? BLESSING! Are you the kinda gal who likes showing off the gifts that she was endowed with??? CURSE!

Wardrobe-saver or boner-killer? Both???

I noted during our pilgrimage to Forks that us Twitards are something of a busty lot... OK, mostly JJ likes to show off her girls and I am somewhere in between her and LKW. I mean modesty-wise, not in between their actual racks - although there was a lot of warm-hearted girly groping during that trip (I'm looking at you, too, Myg and VitaminR70! I'm not sure about TK; I have to spend some quality drinky time with her and see what's what...).

But I digress! Somewhere in her spare time between making multi-hued chocolate penis pops (the white ones sparkled!), lobbing pebbles at motel room windows, and drinking her weight in the finest local spirits available, Cullenary Curser and I discussed the pros and cons of the titkerchief. I threatened to send her one. She threatened to send me one [note: she needs one more than me]. And then I kinda forgot about it... Definitely didn't forget about CC, though - she made a lasting impression on me in Forks!

Dr. Snarky Cullen checks Cullenary Curser's vitals... Prognosis: boobalicious!

But I kinda forgot about the cleavage cover-ups... Until the other day when THIS belated birthday present showed up in the Twitarded mailbox!

Yay! But wait - there's more!!!

Hold on to your Twitard-y hats, people, because these are no ordinary boob aprons! Nope. Not for me... These are s-p-e-c-i-a-l. Veeery special... Customized just for me... Here's the reverse -

That's right - I got the super-special one-of-a-kind Robert Pattinson version! Cullenary Curser's dirty little mind + Red Bella's mad garment-making skillz = the best belated birthday present EVER!!!

And the icing on the boob-apron cake??? Mr. Snarky LOVES the idea of the titkerchief!!! No shit. I'll be wearing these spruced-up fun-bag napkins with his blessing! Totally not kidding. Mr. Snarky's like 50 Shades only without the billions of dollars and Red Room of Pain... He's working the attitude, people - that whole "Mine!" thing - what's his is HIS and he ain't much of a sharer in that department. So now we have a compromise that works for both of us! I get to have RPatts nestled against my [ahem] clavicle, and he is happy in his knowledge that my lady prizes are for his eyes alone. Win-win! [Note: Mr. Snarky does not drink white wine.]

Thanks to the combined efforts of Cullenary Curser and Red Bella for making me laugh until it hurt! You ladies are the waffle to my twat. The whore to my flap. Or something like that. Mwah!

P.S. I am seriously considering wearing these. Like to work and stuff. But I just KNOW that somehow I would land in the ER and would end up flat-lining on a gurney while the staff all laughed hysterically over my wardrobe secret...

Monday, November 29, 2010

Bella Swan Needs a Facepunch

Let me preface this by saying I feel like shit and my bitchiness is in full effect. You've been warned. The first time I read the book series (you know the one I'm talking about), I huffed it down so fast I couldn't believe I was able to process the words. While my focus was mainly on a certain sparkly vamp, quite a few things about Bella caused my brain to come to a screeching halt. I wanted to like her. Really, I did. I tried to focus on our similarities. We both have brown hair. We both want to pork Edward. We both exchange oxygen for carbon dioxide. That's pretty much where the similarities end.

Do they make a cream for that?

Probably the most blatant difference is our style of dress.

Bella's idea of acceptable attire.

TK's everyday wear

Bella's shoes

TK's shoes

Another thing that drove me crazy was how Bella whined about every. fucking. thing. Waaah, my boyfriend is prettier than me. (Lesson The First is ditching that long khaki skirt, Bella. Have you ever seen a homeless person dressed like that? No. They have better taste. Get your shit together.) Waaah, my perfect boyfriend's perfect family makes me feel inadequate with their generosity and perfectness. (I still believe this is simply the most elaborate fashion intervention ever, but that's neither here nor there.) Waaah, Edward and Alice want to buy me presents all the time. (STFU & hang out with Rosalie then, bitch. She never tried to buy you shit.)

"My stalker boyfriend thinks he can buy me a gift?! Fuck that!"

My copy of New Moon is clearly defective. It's missing a ton of pages. Edward comes back after leaving Bella's ass on the forest floor and it skips all the parts where she Hulks out, beats his ass with an aluminum bat and re-enacts every episode of Cops ever. Instead, she had some kind of an epiphany that Edward loved her and all was forgiven. Really? Maybe she realizes her whiny ass is just lucky to have someone.

Edward carried on about how smart Bella was. He was thrown that she knew the square root of pi. Seriously, how dumb are kids these days? [Insert "back in my day" soliloquy] Maybe I'm the stupid one, but I expect smart people to make smart decisions. When Bella was hoodwinked into kissing Jake in Eclipse I had to back up and re-read. He said he hoped to die and she kissed him? Huh? Suddenly she grows an ego the size of Alaska and believes her chaste kiss will restore his will to live? Bella, the tribe has spoken: you are too stupid to associate with the living anymore.

Pssst, Bella! I heard there are some old tennis shoes under this box. Go see!

When the happy couple finally consummated their marriage in the hazily described fade-to-black honeymoon scene (grumble, grumble), I thought FINALLY I'll get to see all the lavish gifts the Cullens have been longing to bestow upon Bella. When you have eternal life and infinite wealth, where you you live? Apparently in a hovel in the woods with no running water or any other modern conveniences. Bella thinks it's soooo perfect. I think it sounds oddly familiar.

This is the skin of someone who never bathes, Bella.

Your turn—would you be BFF's 4EVER with canon Bella, or would you club her over the head and steal her boyfriend? Would you braid each others' hair, or would you tie her to a chair, cover her with honey and leave her rot in her woodland shanty?

Because I love you, I won't leave you with the image of Ted Kaczynski burning into your retinas. Here's a little gift for you.

I'm the gift that keeps on giving. And giving. And...

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Biel Gets Squashed by "The Man"

A while back I remember seeing some scuttlebutt on Twitter about problems our favorite Videostress, Biel, was having with Summit ["The Man" in this case]. I was deeply disturbed by this... It's obvious they have someone on their payroll who's the offspring of a friend of a friend of some higher up and since they can't seem to find anything worthwhile for this particular moron to do, they put said moron in charge of squashing the little people - that's us and our general ilk, in this case. Worse yet, I think genuinely Summit likes squashing the little people.

Even Twitarded has had a run in with those schmucks and to this day they continue to flag our shit on Zazzle as "copyright infringement," and Zazzle erases our merch. Poof! What. The. Fuck.??? How is an original design infringing on their property. Last I checked, we owned that shit and unless they have copyrighted "Twi"--which I fucking doubt--then they can go fucking suck it. Yup, that's what I said Scummit. Suck it. Hard. Twitarded sure has had its past issues with Summit and I'm sure we'll continue to have more as long as we continue to blog about or use logos that they inexplicably claim ownership to.

The more we find out about Summit Entertainment, the less we like them. If it were anything other than the folks who brought us the Twilight Saga movies, we'd probably boycott them forever! They appear to have a sordid history doing their best to make people want to burn down their headquarters. Like I said, they enjoy squashing the little people.

And sadly, now our friend and uber-talented video-maker Biel has found herself in Scummit's crosshiars. Frankly, I think it's because they're jealous. The don't have the mad vid skillz to make thousands of horny RPattz fans dry hump their computers, so they're trying to shut her down. I recently had an email conversation with Biel to find out what the fuck happened. I was seriously really worried... please don't take this away from us!

Evidently, Summit has given Biel two strikes for copyright infringement and some of her videos have been deleted. This makes me very sad. I'm not sure about you guys, but I often watch some of her older videos when I'm in need of a hefty shot of Rob-goodness. She's yet to get a 3rd strike, but if she does, her channels will be suspended and deleted for good. This can happen at any time and there's nothing she can do to stop them.

It's not the deletion of the videos that's the real pisser here. Those can always be re-uploaded. It's the months and months of wonderful comments and messages associated with these videos. And I know everyone loves a good Biel video so that's a lot of fucking stuff to lose!

Biel knows Scummit owns the copyright to footage she's used in her videos, but she's not making a penny off this stuff - and she could have easily monetized her videos by including advertising. She does it for fun and obviously her love for Rob. She's not a professional video editor (which I was surprised to find out) and is totally a closet Rob-lover - this is her outlet! An outlet that I appreciate sososososo much!

Early on in her video making days, a friend suggested she include this verbiage on her videos: Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

I guess Summit doesn't give a shit about this. They are clearly a group of bullying assholes and if it wasn't for all of us, their movies wouldn't be successful. Fuck you Summit. Let Biel have her fun. I need her fun. We all need her fun!

If you haven't subscribed to Biel's YouTube channels, here are the links.


And below...just a sampling of my favorites. I'm sure you've all seen them but, fuck me, they're all so scrumptious and well, get 'em while you can. Who knows when the big, bad Summit will take all this wonderfulness away from us. Let's hope it doesn't happen.

Viva! Biel

Friday, November 26, 2010

I am not photogenic. Or a photographer.

Let's cut right to the chase here: I am not photogenic. It is a rare thing when I actually look good in a picture and usually that's because the only part of me that is showing is my eye or something like that. I believe it's called the "myspace" angle.

You're doing it wrong, asshole.

I've never taken a good picture--not even when I was a kid--though that had less to do with my physical attributes and more with my mental. Plus, I'm really pale. Seriously, people could tan off me on the beach (not that I would actually go to the beach in the first place) and, at a family gathering, Daddy (not a)Jerkface got all annoyed and shit because the flash kept reflecting off my skin and he finally yelled, "Goddammit Jenny! Get a tan!"

I'm not entirely sure why my mother was surprised I turned out the way I did...

So yeah, there are some people who look great in pictures, all the time.

I am not one of them.

The other day, I was going through some photos from Fooooorks (and yes, I know we owe y'all the pictures. They are coming, promise. One of us volunteered for the task of compiling the photographs and then she went and signed up for NaNoWriMo, the stupid twat) and noticed a couple of things, one of them being that I don't take good photographs. As in, I literally do not take good photographs and I don't look good in photographs taken of me. Whatever, you know what I mean.

Case in point-- photos pulled from my camera:

My chest

Someone else's chest

Mrs. P TwiBite's teefs. She has the prettiest smile. Too bad I didn't capture it because I suck at taking pictures.

All I need is some glitter and then I would pass for a fucking Cullen. Daddy (not a)Jerkface is right. I need a tan.

Let's just say it's a good thing Gus was there.

Anyway, I was going through a bunch of pictures the other day and I began to see a pattern emerging...

That pattern was "Everyone looks awesome but Jenny Jerkface looks like a fucking asshole in 80% of the pictures." Now, this is through no fault of photographers, don't get me wrong. I own this one, all the way. It's like the moment I even think there is a camera around, I do stupid or asshole-y things.

Or, more likely, I just act like a stupid fucking jerk all the time so it was inevitable that there were going to be many pictures of me.. well, being me.

Look how happy these lovely ladies are!

I'm apparently confused. Or I possibly crapped myself.

These two are taking a break from defiling their Edwards. You know, normal every day stuff.

Yup. Normal, every day stuff...

Awww, I want to hug these two so hard right now.

But first I have to shit in my pants.

How cute. Everyone's a comedian. I do love these two ladies something fierce.

I am such a dickhead.

And then there is this:

Yay for me! I'm not smirking or giving that creepy I'm-thinking-about-doing-something-awful-to-you smile, doing weird body contortions, flipping someone off, giving someone rabbit ears AND my eyes are fucking open. For the win! I'm just going to chalk it up to being so overwhelmed by all the awesome-sauce women I was getting my picture with that I actually behaved like a fucking adult for once.

Maybe by the time Forks rolls around again next year, I'll behave myself and try not to act like a total fucking douche the entire time.

But probably not.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Ain't No Other Man Like Robert Pattinson (& for THAT I'm Thankful)

So I didn't want to post anything on the blog tonight because almost everyone is off at the grocery store fighting over the last box of turkey-flavored Stove-Top stuffing, buying enough booze to make a large family gathering tolerable, getting frisked at the airport, or stuffing shit into closets/bins/the basement it doesn't really matter but for the love of jeebus get this place clean before our guests arrive!!! aaaand stuff like that. People are OCCUPIED. Tied up. and not in a fan-fic-y Red-Room-of-Pain kinda way... Nobody's around [cricket-cricket] just sayin'.

BUT should you pry yourself away from whatever kerfuffle you're in to get a lil' RPatts fix, we didn't want to disappoint. That would be cruel. Thankfully (hey look at me - I'm thankful!!!), a quick search on YouTube turned up this gem of a vid - please to enjoy - this is from Diane771, who I don't think I have stumbled across before but she CLEARLY does good work and hopefully is not twelve years old [*crosses fingers and stuff but I don't have time to fact-check*] - mwah!

P.S. - Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!! I'm thankful for more outtakes from wherever this little bit of awesomeness below is from... Er, I am the worst blogger in the world this week (season? year?). For reals. But I am also thankful that I have people like Latchkey Wife on Team Twitarded, because despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that she's supposed to be preparing for a huge family Thanksgiving dinner at her place is still finding the time to scour the interwebs for the good stuff and subsequently sending me hawt pics like this... No idea where she found it, so sorry for not crediting the appropriate peeps.

Need help with all that...stuffing, LKW??? I am a good...stuffer.
[I love that you can practically see the eyebrow wiggle here.]

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I Can No Longer Mock Your Stupid Hobby

I realized something the other day: I've become the kind of person I would normally shit all over and do it with a smile on my face. I've become someone who has a hobby that is majorly annoying to someone who doesn't share in it. A year ago, that would've bothered me. Now I just say fuck it and accept that I'm a Twitard and there's little anyone can do about it. But now, I can no longer shit on your less-than-desirable hobby without being a huge fucking hypocrite and that makes me a little bit sad.

Um, yup. I think this is what just about everyone in my life (except you guys) says to me.

Mr. Latchkey often enjoys regaling me with tales of his coworkers. And working in a factory of sorts, those tales are always entertaining. A few weeks ago, he told me about one of his fellow employees who was all excited to go to Walmart that night at midnight to get the latest and greatest Call of Duty video game [notice I know nothing more than this because I literally have no fucking idea what any of this video game mumbo jumbo shit is.] I pfffft'd and shook my head and muttered something about how incredibly ridiculous that was. A grown man, waiting in line at Walmart for a gah damn video game. Not only that, he planned to take the next three days off from work to play it. What. The. Fuck? Come on dude. Really? REALLY?

I have no idea what this is except there's a lot of killing. Huh, maybe I should be playing this...

And then it hit me like a fucking toilet seat plummeting to the earth from outer space**, technically I'M this guy. Well, sort of, minus the cock and an addiction to fake-killing people. I suddenly gasped, my eyes wide as I stared at my husband blankly. "I went to Forks," I said. "I went to Forks, Washington for a teenage vampire book series. I FLEW ACROSS THE ENTIRE COUNTRY TO GO TO FORKS! I can no longer make fun of this sort of behavior."

"Damn right," Mr. Latchkey gloated. "You went to Forks."

Then I got to thinking about all the time off I've taken for Twilight... a day off for New Moon, three days off and a trip to fucking NYC to see Eclipse with JJ, STY and Myg, and then Forks. And all those other people who had hobbies or obsessions that I always thought of as laughable? I realized...I can't laugh at them anymore.

Fuck. My. Life.

I have an aunt who has a ridiculous Taylor Hicks obsession. Do you even know who Taylor Hicks is? If you never watched American Idol, you probably don't. He's by far one of the least successful winners of American Idol... EVER. And my aunt is obsessed with him [Note from JJ: Wait, Taylor Hicks is a dude? I thought she dated Taycob at one point... oh. I see.]. And we're talking probably the same level of obsessed as I am with Twilight. Except she's a total stalker. She goes mental every time he appears in concert in her area. Which seems to be often since he sucks so badly, he's been relegated to shitty little venues. She's met him, had her picture taken with him, and even befriended his parents. Get. A. Fucking. Life.

Did you know Jay Leno was on American Idol? Me neither. Weird.

For a while, he's all she talked about at family gatherings [please note she's married and has two kids] - the eye-rolling was strong. I couldn't stomach the gushing. She once threatened to get us all his CD for Christmas. I nearly vomited in my own lap.

But now? Now I'm madly in love with the 24-year-old actor who portrays Edward Cullen. I would stalk the shit out of him if he got close enough to where I live... and given the chance, I'd surely throw my naked self at him. So what? Now I can't shit on my aunt anymore either? Fuck that! RPattz is much more stalk-worthy than Taylor "Needs Just For Men" Hicks.

This is worth stalking...

Excuse me? Did you really just ask me to take my clothes off?

And this too...

Oh shit, here she come again.
Hiding from Latchkey Wife is like keeping Jenny Jerkface from shitting in my trailer: impossible.

Before Twilight, were you like me? Did you shamelessly make fun of other people's lame hobbies and/or obsessions because you didn't have one to call your own? Or did you have one that just somehow morphed into this one like an obsession mash-up? C'mon, scrapbookers - I'm looking at you! Personally, I've come to the conclusion that there's absolutely nothing stupid about MY hobby... It might involve some cross-country travel here and there but think of all the cash I save by not requiring massive amounts of supplies from the craft store... and ogling RPattz online is entertaining and free!

**Extra points if you can tell me where this reference comes from. [Not you Jenny Jerkface.]

Monday, November 22, 2010

Happy Holidays, Mothertruckers

The working title for this post was "Ho Ho Ho Fuck You," but STY made me change it. It's that time of year again. The season that turns children into angels and adults into winged, venom-spitting Hell-beasts fighting for the last iPad at the Apple store. I am not ready for this. I still have Halloween decorations out, people. I am not mentally prepared to do battle with an eighty-year-old grandma channeling Evander Holyfield in Target because she thinks I'm vying for the last package of candy canes. This is stress I don't need. I'd really like to tote around an I.V. cart full of Xanax, but my doctor is all hung up on ethics or some bullshit.

You say whore. I say survivalist.

Thanksgiving kicks the season off with a tryptophan coma. I was stupid enough to go to the grocery store on Sunday night, but I guess it's better than going Wednesday night. Even though I still had 72 hours before the mass fuckery began, I really could have used that I.V. cart. It would have calmed me while I bludgeoned people with it. The shelves were pretty bare, like Hurricane Turkey Day was blowing in. I started to panic, thinking I would have to go to yet another grocery store. It's in the best interest of all parties if that doesn't happen. I narrowly beat a woman to the last can of pumpkin puree. It was a close call, but her cart was weighed down with small children.

Who's having pumpkin pie now, bitch?

There was another near disaster in the baking goods aisle. Some silly lady thought just because she was elderly I'd let her have the last can of evaporated milk. Little did she know, I would have clubbed a baby seal for that can. I used my cart to block her scooter in, snatched the can (which is dented, btw—fucking Karma) and marched off to do battle with the stuffing poachers.

It wasn't until this morning that I realized I would be putting up Christmas decorations this weekend. Mr. TK is the resident holiday elf. Case in point: Last year Little TK & I were held hostage in the car for eight hours while we had "holiday fun." I'm pretty sure we are now banned from one specific light display because of an incident that we won't discuss. Mr. TK then spilled hot, sticky apple cider into the car window control panel. Undaunted, he forced the back window to roll down because "we need the full holiday light experience and that window is going to roll down, dammit!" and the window would not roll up again. Did I mention that it was snowing? And sleeting? And we were two hours from home? Good times. [JJ's note - OMG! I think I remember you bitching about this last year!!] [TK's note - Yes, the e-mail was entitled "I need a shovel, a tarp and some lye."]

I refuse to help decorate the tree. I tried one year and couldn't sleep because I could sense the red ornaments were not evenly distributed. Naturally, I stayed up all night redecorating. Stupid CDO. Now Mr. TK decorates and I gulp Grey Goose while screaming helpful things like, "There's too much red on the main side! No, the other main side!"

I have no idea what this is, but it's the reason I'm not sleeping tonight.

It should also be noted that any type of animatronic Santa, Christmas tree, reindeer, snowman, etc sends me into a Manchurian Candidate-like killing spree. I. Hate. Them. They must be eradicated. Spread the word. Tell a friend. The change begins here.

Let's see you dance that jig with only one leg, buddy.

I'll be doing all my holiday shopping online, just like every other year. I really don't need to tell my kid Santa couldn't come this year because Mommy cut a bitch in Nordstrom and needed bail money. I will be venturing out to the "old money" mall for voyeuristic purposes only. That is where the shit goes down. I've seen women of, er, an advanced age kicking the shizz out of double-parked Jaguars with their Monolos and taking their Berkin bags to the windshield. Cadillacs are used as battering rams to create an "extra" parking space. The inside could double as Marine combat training, with canes being used as night sticks, Hermes scarves being used as lassos.

Did I mention I love the holidays? Like, as much as I love getting a root canal without novocaine while Godzilla is blowing flames up my ass?

How do you cope with the holidays? Is this your favorite time of year, or do you just hunker down and hope you survive another round? Does anyone have their fingers crossed for a special gift?

Not that kind of gift. Ok, maybe that kind of gift.

I was thinking more along the lines of...

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Reading Is Fundamental. Annnd So Are Other Things...

The other day, a few of you commented on my graduation party/nightclub post and wondered why the hell I read in the bathroom. To my surprise, there were quite a few of you who don't read on the shitter (you know who you are cough-Twired Jen-cough) and even thought it was weird.

You are all obviously aliens.

See? I'm not the only one!!! LMT.

Regardless of what planet you come from, this little mini-conversation got me thinking-- why do I read in the bathroom? Well, I've mulled it over and have come up with a few answers:

1) Taking a shit is fucking boring. Unless you're battling Montezuma's Revenge, which I imagine would make taking a crap a little more exotic, birthing a turd is a dull process. And, sometimes, it takes a while. So, rather than stare at the shower curtain (or read the back of a box of tampons), I grab a book or magazine to pass the time while I'm passing the poop.

Five more minutes, assholes. There's this really awesome... article I want to read. Er, and I have to take the Browns to the Super Bowl. Now, get the fuck out.

2) Multi-tasking is good! I mean, c'mon, what else are you going to do? Utilize your bathroom time more efficiently by reading. I sometimes like to bring the Thesaurus into the loo because then I can really focus on what I'm reading/researching (unless I've eaten too much fiber that day. Then I'm more focused on how uncomfortable I feel).

3) Shiny Penny moments are reduced dramatically. Let's face it, you don't have too many distractions when you're stuck on the porcelain throne, cooking a butt burrito. It's not like you can just hop up and go answer the door and there is no television, gaming device, computer, etc. in the bathroom to distract someone with a short attention span**. It's uninterrupted time. [Note from LKW: You don't take the laptop to the shitter? My iPad spends almost as much time on the toilet as I do.]

Wait, what were talking about before?

4) Privacy, dudes. ML seems to have some sort of sixth sense where he knows when I'm in the throes of some gut wrenching part of a novel and will pop up out of nowhere, scare the fucking bejeezus out of me, and want to know what I'm up to. Um, what the fuck does it look like I'm up to?

Well, unless he's Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo, he can't pop up out of anywhere if my ass if firmly planted on a toilet seat, hiding in the bathroom. And, like most guys***, he'd rather not think of his gentler half punching a grumpy on the toilet and he certainly wouldn't want to actually witness the devastation so he stays far away from the bathroom. And doesn't bother me. Win!

If I ever took a shit and it came out wearing a Santa Claus hat I would freak the fuck out. And probably never take acid again.

Level with me Twitards, what's your favorite toilet-time activity? Are you the dump and dash type? Or are you a lavatory lingerer like me? We're all friends here... you can tell me all about your private privy proceedings.

** If you have TV, a computer or something else in your bathroom, I'm in awe of your set up. Seriously. Also, you might have more poop issues than me. Just sayin'...

*** Okay, seriously, why do most guys feel the need to pretend that their girlfriends/wives/person with a vagina don't poop? I mean, I know dudes poop. Do I want to see it? Um, no. Not at all. But I still know they do it. So, how come guys get all weird about it?

Friday, November 19, 2010

Week-End Robert Pattinson's Butt-Crack/Kristen Stewart's uhhhh.../Breaking Dawn Filming & Other Random Twilighty Stuff Recap!

So earlier this week (or recently - who can really be bothered to keep track of the days and weeks anymore?), we kinda mentioned that we were going try to be the best spoiler whores we could possibly be in our little corner of the Twidom. Luckily (for us; bad for you, really...), our little corner of the Twidom (Population: Us + You) is known for being a little slacker-y. I mean really, I don't think we got anyone thinking that we were going to replace their mainstays for real Twilighty news, but it's possible that you may be expecting us to up our game slightly in an effort to pretend we have any idea what's going on out there at any given moment. We do not. Plus, somehow the phrase "real Twilighty news" still makes me cringe, despite who I am and what I do with a really significant portion of my time on any given day.

With that rambling-doesn't-really-make-sense statement in mind, and (almost) without further ado, here's some stuff you probably already saw eons ago (or at least a few days ago) and have had time to formulate strong opinions on, which you will hopefully share with everyone in the comments... Think of it as something like The Bloggess's weekly Sunday[-ish] round-up of "Shit I Did When I Wasn't Here" only more Twilighty, less succinct, and not as funny.


Robert Pattinson's butt-crack makes a guest appearance on the beach in Brazil; Twitards everywhere rejoiced! Plumbers everywhere realize they need to kick it up a notch to continue the momentum of "plumber's butt" being viewed as a good thing. On an unrelated-to-Rob's-coin-slot note, wtf is KStew's hair doing in this photo below? Eating her face??? I am baffled... It looks like it's been caught in a windstorm that was focused solely on her wig.

(via popsugar, obvs.)
Kristen Stewart's...lady bits also make a special guest appearance (I am sure she is thanking whoever decided on that white Susana Monaco bikini). I'd never really considered Kristen's lady-scaping habits before, but I would have pegged her as more of an au natural kinda gal. That said, it's probably time for me to book another appointment with Zuzanna. Just in case.

Also, in the ongoing "KStew must ride someone piggyback in every Twilight Saga movie" meme news, "Hold on tight, Spider-monkey!" made its Breaking Dawn/Brazilian debut -

The newlywed Cullens were filmed doing what every hot young vampire-human married couple does on their honeymoon: playing chess! Really [note the red, black, and white color scheme on the chess set - nice touch]. Aaaand somehow they make the whole chess-playing thing sexy...when they knock all the pieces over and suck face (check out the awesome gif Twilighish made! - but be careful because you'll suddenly snap out of it and look at the clock and realize that an hour or two has passed...you've been warned).

Ilse Esme filming over, the cast flees... But not before a fan seeing "RPatts & Friends (with benefits)" off as they departed from Brazil places all her considerable...eggs in one overflowing basket in an effort to grab Rob's...attention. Or something like that. Kudos to Rob's Closet for being the first blog to ask the burning question "Holy fucking shit what the fuck is up with this chick's huge bazoombas?!?" (paraphrasing there, but that was the general gist)

OK, focus people - focus! Moving on...

In random Twilighty award news, RPatts wins...Best Dressed??? BBC Radio 1s Teen Awards bestow The Precious with the official nod for "best dressed" (and best actor, I think) - kudos. But... Yes, I luurv PRatts and I give him props for his...no fuss hobolicious style (hey, I know how "effortless" it is to put on the first things you find on the floor in morning; I just don't look as hawt when I try to work that look) but...best dressed? Yeah whatever - I'll take it. And yes he cleans up well for the red carpet and photo shoots (as I vaguely recall - it's been a while), but he's an anti-fashionista. Still made for a cute acceptance video, though - at least what you can make out over the screeching fans -

And last but not least, there was a new outtake from the last Another Man photo shoot released today[-ish]. RPatts has got an awesome profile. And is wearing a leather biker jacket. I have nothing else to add...