Ayyyy!

I’ve never gotten the appeal of Nigella Lawson. I’ve caught her show a few times and it’s a-ight and when I worked in a bookstore in college I’d occasionally get a new box of cookbooks with Nigella on the cover with her in a tight shirt fellating or preparing to fellate some sort of moderately appetizing looking foodstuff. Once I caught her on a radio show where she declared Old Bay Seasoning to be the best thing about America, and although that is undeniably true and she shows excellent judgment in regional spice blends I just cannot give her a pass on this:

I get that this is a Lavender Trust party and that one tries to be thematic but honey, no.

You’re a chef and you are wearing a headwreath of ingredients and sure you’re pretty enough to just about carry it off, but this could be the beginning of an ugly trend and if you see Sandra Lee waltzing around in a bikini made of pre-cooked chicken tenders, you have no one but yourself to blame.

A) Did David Gest and Nicholas Cage really have a baby?
B) Why did they give him a harmonica?
C) Is he wearing individuals?

Ooooh SNAP. Those high-falutin’ docs in Switzerland with their fancy “degrees” and “beards” and “sterile operating equipment” are gonna be SO ticked off.
Lorielle New –beloved “celebrity” who has been applauded word-wide for her groundbreaking work in roles in cinematic masterworks like “Dirtyglitter 1: Damien” where she positively defined the role of Svetlana, and her fantastic turn as Bikini Assassin in the insta-classic “Armageddon Boulevard” has finally secured stardom by being the first genetically human being to be actually transformed into a Carassius auratus, a.k.a a common goldfish. No word on Ms New’s future plans, nor have we been able to confirm rumors that Jocelyn Wildenstein has offered one million dollars to anyone who could bring her Ms New’s liver in a tin of Fancy Feast.

God I love Graham Norton.

There is positively no reason for him to be in this post other than I love him, pure and simple. He is camp and cute and so, SO inappropriate (I died a thousand deaths when he set up his friend Dawn French –who is happily married to Lenny Henry– with a self-identified “chubby chaser” via some internet dating site and broadcast the entire thing on his television show) and if I were still the sort of girl who dated gay Irishmen, I would gladly be Teh Best Sexless Marriage Evar!!!1! with him.

Watch him here waxing eloquent about Dolly Parton and interviewing the unforgivably doable (seriously, call me) David Tennant.

In a continuing theme of fierce British bitches I give you Joanna Lumley who created my heroine, the legendary louche Patsy Stone of Ab Fab fame, making a bold choice in Hermes orange and Dame Judi Dench who will always have better hair than you. Always.

Always.

Oh Emma. My sweet, overacting, normal-seeming Emma. You hold a special place in my heart. Back in the day when I got dumped by the man I loved for a hirsute East-German amnesiac with a exceedingly tenuous understanding of the importance of wearing underwear, I pretty much stayed in my apartment for three months crying, drinking inexcusably bad pineapple-flavored rum straight from the bottle via a purple krayzee straw and watching Harry Potter on continuous loop until I fell asleep and my dog figured out how close my laptop.

You cannot, then, imagine my distress when I logged on to The Superficial and discovered (though I didn’t view the NSFW photos) that you have joined the cavalcade of pantsless party girls.

Ems, sugar, I get it. Daniel Radcliffe got his kit off in Equus, rode a few masked theater workers and it was a great career move. However, that was a play. This is real life, so unless you’re auditioning method-style for The Chronicles of Crotchia, you might want to let Hanes have her way with you from here on out. Besides, the part is TOTALLY going to La Lohan anyway.

So CNN personality Richard Quest got caught with his  pants full of drugs and his manjunk all macraméd up like my grandma’s begonias in some sort of kinky …something, and I for one say well done. It has been far, far too long since last we’ve had a good Central Park cruising scandal and while this one wasn’t quite what I’d hoped for (really I’m holding out for something involving Morley Safer, a ball gag and a stolen llama dyed the colors of the American Flag) I’ll take it anyway I can get it. If you know what I mean, and I think you do.

So it looks like Simpson the Lesser (I’m totally team Jessica by the way, I like my vapid blonde starlets genuinely vapid. Keep your creme-rinsed facade of kohl-based angst away from me, Ashlee!) and her fiance –that guy with the hair from that band I don’t know anything about– might have figured out how to make babies.

Oh great. You KNOW this is how Planet of the Product-Using Apes starts.

If they discover fire, we’re all going down.

Many congratulations to Stellacomans and Snarkypants who correctly identified this woman as Lady Randolph Churchill, Winston’s mum.

Let’s see Momma Cruise fit THIS into her Balenciaga tote.

So I was browsing the internet and accidentally stumbled upon a picture of someone with all their clothes on. Now, I’m hoping it won’t happen again, but when I saw this lady I was struck with how much she looks like Scientology Queen –a.k.a Our Lady of Guadaloony– Kat(i)e Cruise.
Seriously. If I told you that Posh dragged Katie into one of those Olde Tyme Photo Studio and Saltwater Taffy Emporiums you would totally believe me right?

Big besos to the first Ayyyy! reader to guess the identity of our Victorian mystery mom.

I loved Charlton Heston.

I love Charlton Heston because as an honorary Texan, he held dear at least two, if not all three, of the Pillars of Texas Life, namely Jesus, guns and barbeque.

He was also the unchallenged master of the “Greased Up For Jesus” film genre  and shaped an entire generation’s visual ideas of the Bible. Seriously, what does Moses look like in your head? Exactly.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that from 1956 to 1963 any religion that didn’t feature a cinematic spectacular with a ripped dude in an equally ripped loin cloth, all slicked up with vaseline and righteousness wasn’t even protected under the Bill of Rights.

We’ll miss you Chuck!

and NOT use the phrase “reservoir tip.”

Remember kids, when it comes to fashion always remember Safety First.

but there’s no way in HELL she’ll fit in that basket.