It starts around 6:30 a.m—“incessant, almost guttural cooing,” according to Michael Kelly, a 33-year-old opera singer who lives on a usually quiet stretch of 100th Street on the Upper West Side. He’s battling jet lag after a trip to Europe, but every morning for the last couple of weeks, Kelly is wrenched from sleep not by a blaring car alarm or construction noise on the street below, but jackhammering of a different kind: pigeons fucking.
Human penises, much to the relief of most humans, lack the "barb-like structures found in many mammals" known as penile spines. For many of us, knowing that we will never encounter a barbed penis is enough; for scientists, who are the guy at the party saying, "I mean, sure, it's a nice present, but have you checked out its teeth?" the human penis's curious lack of spines is a question to be asked, and answered, and told to everyone.
In this video we see some rednecks in their natural habitat. Watch as they perform some weird mating ritual while the rest of their community looks on.
Where is Jennifer Aniston? We've been asking ourselves that question for what feels like three whole days now. And we're apparently not the only ones. At a gig in Milwaukee last night, boyfriend John Mayer was pouring his heart into those Grammy-winning sobfests he calls a repertoire when the usual "I want your body!" and "Are you sure you're not gay!" yelps from fans turned from coos to catty. Reports People, "Several fans were overheard yelling 'Where's Jennifer?' and 'Bring Jen Out!' in between songs." Though Mayer got his revenge by boring the crowd to tears with a volatile hate rant against the Internet and all its "vulgar" ways, we couldn't help wondering how long the oh-so-serious musician will allow yet another tabloid-y romance interfere with his craft. Or is his craft only sustainable with the help of all these tabloid-y romances?
You know what the best part about dating Kate Hudson is? Not the fun beachside lunches with a jolly Goldie Hawn and doting “unidentified males.” Not the late-night games of Pin The Tail On The Boob with 9-year old Ryder. Nor is it collecting your winnings from that bet you made with Owen Wilson about who could land the ebuillient blonde. No, the most enjoyable benefit to following Hudson around town and forcing grin after grin is the dynamite opportunity to finally get photographed dutifully wearing clothes coincidentally fashioned by your lifestyle-sustaining sponsor!
homeless thin Colin Farrell has reportedly been keeping his new girlfriend hidden from the press for six whole months, and now that she’s been outed by the British tabs, we understand why. No, not because she lacks “stereotypical movie star” looks as the Daily Mail readily informs us, nor because she can’t remember to rip those silly plastic party bracelets off after downing free booze. It seems his “true love” is a little bit famous herself, in a Bridget Jones sort of way. Author Emma Forrest is the author of two novels, which in itself is not exactly shameful, but the titles (Namedropper and Cherries In The Snow: A Novel Of Love, Lust, Loss And Lipstick), along with her history of wearing “DITCH HIM!” message tees and telling reporters that interviewing Brad Pitt was the “best thing” she’s ever done, are! More on the girl responsible for greying Colin’s hair and sobering him up, after the jump.
Just when Hollywood has seemingly runs out of ideas, it appears that the city of Los Angeles has also run out of dateable men. Two of Tinseltown's most eligible bachelorettes, Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz, have searched far and wide for the right arm candy, only to wind up scraping the bottom of the boy barrel. And their respective plights have gotten so dismal that the "sex-obsessed" blonde and "clingy" brunette are now swapping leftovers. As we already know far too well, Aniston has been gritting her teeth through this summer's most mysterious celebrity relationship with John Mayer, one of Diaz's former flings. And rumors earlier this month linking Diaz to a certain cokehead model have gained credibility after the actress was photographed out and about with the pretty-but-pretty-dumb Paul Sculfor. But the tale turns even more tragic: yet another sorry excuse for a man has nailed both A-listers, and managed to walk away the winner:
After attending a New York movie screening with rumored new boyfriend Justin Bartha last night, it appears that Ashley Olsen is about to finally make her new relationship public. And after years of tracking the Olsen Twins, we have to admit that we are more than a bit mystified by how these two ended up as a couple. The deliciously handsome actor, sort of memorable from National Treasure (for those of you bold enough to admit you've seen it), is about to become far more memorable after appearing opposite Catherine Zeta-Jones in next year's The Rebound. But more on
our new crush this guy later. The question we can't quite answer yet has to do with both Olsens and their laundry list of former flings. Never failing to shock, both Mary Kate and Ashley have one of the most eccentric, baffling and WTF dating history between them. We examine each of their previous love interests in an attempt to figure out what exactly they find attractive, why they pick who they pick, and upon discovering quite the few lookers in the bunch, why these guys pick them, after the jump.
Like that old car wreck cliché, the John Mayer and Jennifer Aniston quasi-relationship remains shamefully impossible to look away from. So glance away we shall. After getting caught slobbering in pools, then attempting to trick photographers by making separate exits post-dinner in New York, the Cougar Queen and her cad were most recently spotted gazing into each other’s vacant eyes on Courteney Cox’s balcony. But last night marked a (Very Exciting!) turn of events in which the closeted couple boldly went where every closeted couple eventually goes: agreeing to be photographed side by side, smile to smile, with nary a sign of resistance. Where the so-boring-they’re-exciting couple grandly outed their union, and which enablers were present, after the jump.
Two former members of the infamous Bimbo Summit were not late for very important dates this week. But one alum probably should’ve been. Worker bee Britney Spears was spotted having a one-on-one dinner last night at Havana Room, while pansexual couple of the moment Lindsay Lohan and Sam Ronson pretended to eat dinner with an unexpected new BFF at Il Sole on Monday. And while Britney’s knight in Hebrew-hating armor has proven himself to be quite the positive influence of late, we’re not so confident that Sam and Lindsay’s third wheel will strengthen Lohan’s so-far-successful ascent towards paycheck-earning, substance-free livelihood. The angel on Britney’s shoulder and devil on Lindsay’s revealed after the jump.
It seems that when you're a former heartthrob forced to maintain your celebrity status on the likes of Idol-wannabe reality shows, picking up women isn't as easy as flashing your veneers and saying hello. In the case of hamburger abuser David Hasselhoff, he might have been able to score by simply striding up to a group of giggly women and opening with "Hi, I'm The Hoff." But one pesky home video and one bitter divorce battle later, the NY Daily News reports that David's current moves aren't so slick: