We here at Hott find nothing more disturbing to watch than celebrity couples.
Ok, we confess. It's disturbingly fun -- not as much like watching a train wreck as they always say. More like watching the hottest boy in school sing on stage at the talent show with his fly down. Classic.
Yes, some are fun: K-Fed turned Fed-Ex was my favorite one this year. Then he made that amazingly self-depreciating commercial. It was like "Whoah, either this guy understands that his true life calling is scooping fries or he's too dumb to get the simple 'Life come at you fast' slogan."
And some of them stay together: Julia Roberts and whatever that guy's name is. Lucky bum married Julia Roberts, got her knocked up with twins(!), and managed to magic (tm) them out of Tabloid-land forever. It's every celebrity's dream come true!
Then there are the couples that make you ask the nearest person for a sharp implement with which you can mutilate/maim/gag yourself/poke and scoop out your eyeballs.
Here are
Hott's Top 5 Celebrity Couples!
(that make you want to hurt yourself in order to take away the pain of seeing the mess unfold)
5) Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore
Just Ew. That's all Hott has to say about a terrible actor and his older-woman fetish. And now he might have gotten her pregnant? Even more gross.
4) Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson
This Hott Sister really doesn't know enough about this couple, and frankly, is so disgusted she doesn't want to find out more. It's true that in a recent Rolling Stone interview, the Fallout Boy bassist denied that he's anything more than friends with the younger Simpson sister. There was a late-April sighting of them holding hands, though, so that has to count for something, right? Anyway, pop-rock's current king deserves better, no matter how many tweeny-boppers so LuV his mUsIC, like OMG!
3) Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes
The “Tom” of TomKat has proved repeatedly that he is certifiable (can we say Oprah?). I don't doubt for a hott second the tabloid rumors that he's practically holding Kat and kitten hostage. Run home to Toledo, kitty Kat! There's no place like Ohio to save you from Wicked Witch Tom!
2) John Mayer and Jessica Simpson
How did the frog-mouthed wonder get the hott girl? Yes, his voice is beautiful and buttery-smooth – so smooth certain Hott writers have expressed a dark desire to be coated in that voice. Any and all attraction to the man ceased as soon as we saw his mouth's disturbing intimacy with a microphone during a televised performance. Please, John, save it for behind closed doors!And Simpson? Not as cute and innocent as she once was. I don't even WANT to think about that mouth has done to her behind said closed doors. *shudder*
1) George Clooney and Pamela Anderson
The possibility that this rumor could be true completely spoiled my pop culture blog appetite for a week. You're beautiful, George. You've played Julia Roberts love interest. You're tied with Brad Pitt for number of times you've been named Sexiest Man Alive. Don't give that all up. Please. And NEVER ditch your bachelorhood and your bet with Hollywood A-listers for some washed-up, ancient beach babe. Just because she's actually six years younger than you doesn't mean that she's not OLD and disgusting.
One word more: RUN.
Any couples we forgot? E-mail us at HottSisterBlog (at) gmail (dot) com.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Bowling for Sparta
Bowling for Sparta
My sister used have a friend that screamed, “REMEMBER THE ALAMO!” whenever he bowled. No, I don’t know why he did this; he was her friend and not mine. Even more perplexing is a) no one remembers the Alamo anyway, and b) war cries are not typically heard in bowling alleys.
But why not? I’m not a very talented bowler myself and every time I bowl I feel like I’m going to battle. Me vs. The Pins. There’s ten of them and only one of me. I only get two shots at them, too, from a significant distance. Basically, the odds are comparable to the entire plot of the movie “300.” Which got me thinking.
And so…without further ado…that new summer blockbuster…
Bowling 300.
My brother is the star. Except he’s significantly bulkier and partially naked. He’s also got a wife who is equally bulky and equally naked. My sister and I are there, too, except I am male and wielding a giant spear. My sister has an eye-patch (not sure why.) It is our job to yell “SPARTA!” whenever we feel like it or, if we’re really feeling adventurous, “GLORY!”
Now, we could shoot this in a bowling alley. But NO! We film this whole experience on, say, a submarine. And then we CG the bowling alley in later. Why do we do this, you ask? Foolish mortals. In Sparta, that’s the kind of thing that we’re about.
So my brother steps up to bowl. His bowling ball is made of some magical metallic substance that could withstand the force of an atomic bomb. Despite being 16, he has a thick beard (and wife, remember). He cocks his arm and begins his throw.
Suddenly, everything goes into slow motion. He opens his mouth and yells “WWWWHAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” His foot majestically pounds the wood of the lane. Ten million bowling pins stand, facing him, the army of darkness.
He releases. The ball spins in midair.
A shot of me and Lisa: “SPARTA!”
A shot of his sexy wife, letting herself get raped over by the Dance Dance Revolution game (again, not sure why).
The ball continues to spin in midair.
Then it thunders down the alley and wipes out a ridiculously huge number of pins. The rest of the pins, of course, promptly fly into the air. Me, my sister, and my brother are impaled where we stand.
The sexy wife turns in our shoes.
Roll credits.
My sister used have a friend that screamed, “REMEMBER THE ALAMO!” whenever he bowled. No, I don’t know why he did this; he was her friend and not mine. Even more perplexing is a) no one remembers the Alamo anyway, and b) war cries are not typically heard in bowling alleys.
But why not? I’m not a very talented bowler myself and every time I bowl I feel like I’m going to battle. Me vs. The Pins. There’s ten of them and only one of me. I only get two shots at them, too, from a significant distance. Basically, the odds are comparable to the entire plot of the movie “300.” Which got me thinking.
And so…without further ado…that new summer blockbuster…
Bowling 300.
My brother is the star. Except he’s significantly bulkier and partially naked. He’s also got a wife who is equally bulky and equally naked. My sister and I are there, too, except I am male and wielding a giant spear. My sister has an eye-patch (not sure why.) It is our job to yell “SPARTA!” whenever we feel like it or, if we’re really feeling adventurous, “GLORY!”
Now, we could shoot this in a bowling alley. But NO! We film this whole experience on, say, a submarine. And then we CG the bowling alley in later. Why do we do this, you ask? Foolish mortals. In Sparta, that’s the kind of thing that we’re about.
So my brother steps up to bowl. His bowling ball is made of some magical metallic substance that could withstand the force of an atomic bomb. Despite being 16, he has a thick beard (and wife, remember). He cocks his arm and begins his throw.
Suddenly, everything goes into slow motion. He opens his mouth and yells “WWWWHAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” His foot majestically pounds the wood of the lane. Ten million bowling pins stand, facing him, the army of darkness.
He releases. The ball spins in midair.
A shot of me and Lisa: “SPARTA!”
A shot of his sexy wife, letting herself get raped over by the Dance Dance Revolution game (again, not sure why).
The ball continues to spin in midair.
Then it thunders down the alley and wipes out a ridiculously huge number of pins. The rest of the pins, of course, promptly fly into the air. Me, my sister, and my brother are impaled where we stand.
The sexy wife turns in our shoes.
Roll credits.
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