Keira Knightley will no longer strip for the camera if a man is directing the movie, because she’s a Mom now and all Men are Pigs. You can read the whole thing on the Interwebs but let’s scope-out the implications:
– Any women who disrobes on camera, the street, or in your bedroom is doing you a favor
– An actress who gets naked on set is doing it under the lusty gaze of lewd, fascist men. Stripping isn’t done for art or commerce anymore – it’s purely to reinforce the sexual act
– Men only know women as sex toys
So many questions for Keira and her fans – can a woman nurse her newborn in public with a man around without him getting aroused? Are men hovering around Knightley’s flat just to get a glimpse of her slobbered upon right nip? Are women celebrating this decision? Because it means you/they/she is being objectified, yet again, and the stigma of female nudity is reinforced.
Of course if Michael B. Jordan or Channing Tatum or Jon Hamm drops trou it’s completely different to the various women behind the camera, who are clinical and detached about cinematic sex and not staring at his shlong. We’d like to hear Hamm say “I’m not comfortable airing my nozzle in front of women, and will only work with male directors” – but that would be sexist.
Mae West and Madonna must be spinning in their graves. Kiera, keep your mom-bod and anti-men prejudices under wraps – ain’t doing us Men-Pigs any favor.
It was 28 years ago this week that the world lost a great Man, Andre the Giant. The Parisian wrestler and sometime actor succumbed to the inevitable heart failure that comes with being a hella Big Man.
His story and documentary are worth a click – this Guy didn’t ask for what happened to him, but by all accounts was friendly and generous about his “condition”. It woulda been easy to be an asshole when you speak french can bench a Ferris-wheel.
Dude had to tolerate corrupt WWE owners, hucksters (or both), and Hulk Hogan. Everyone wanted a piece, everyone was a fan, and it musta been balls to smile when you stand out in every crowd, don’t speak the language, and you’ve known since you were a teen that you wouldn’t see your 50 birthday.
Roussimoff liked to play cards, hang with his dogs, drink, and buy shit on TV. When he died he left everything to his daughter and got cremated – solid moves.
Pour out a 40 of French red wine for this fallen giant – woulda been banging to have you around a few more years Andre
By now you have probably seen photos of Demi Moore’s new face that she debuted at the Kim Jones Fendi show yesterday. The 58 year old’s appearance ended up being the star of the show, even though some of us tried to find some hope in Kate and Lila Moss appearing in a the show together, which was awesome.
Anyway Demi has clearly had some cosmetic work done during this pandemic, there is just no way this is the work of “clever” make up, unless they hired the crew from the SAW movie series to recreate their work of the Jigsaw puppet. Demi has made a horrible mistake with whatever this is and I’d love to know why her daughters didn’t stop her. Rumer where the fuck were you?
Years ago Demi signed on to appear in the Charlies Angels movie and around that time there were reports that she had something like a million dollars worth of plastic surgery done to prepare for the role.
I didn’t really believe that then, but with this new extension of her face it’s about time we do an evolution of Demi Moore post so we can see how the Striptease BABE turned into an insecure victim of plastic surgery.
What’s really sad is the last time we saw Demi look great was only last October where she walked for Rihanna’s Savage x Fenty lingerie line. RIP hot Demi Moore, gone too soon.
One of the best vibes of writing for WWTDD is when you can shine the light on a fellow Man who’s done manly, even heroic things. (BC that doesn’t get reported enough by Big Media, who is all about fear and outage and “equality”).
From our sister-site VTS: dude in Missouri saw a truck crash on the interstate, rushed over to help, pulled the driver out before it exploded, then went home to his young wife. Not for money or press or attention, but bc it seemed like the Right Thing To Do. Another man chipped too – neither issued a press release or sued the government afterward. (He gets a bit religious / political on the clip, but givem a break, he aint pretending).
Would one of us (male or female) do the same thing in a similar sitch? We’d like to think so, and when you done cleaning off the smoke and go to sleep in your cheap IKEA bed that night, you is gonna wake-up on a new level. Go and do good shit, Men.
If there’s one guy yall should feel sorry for, it’s M Night Shyamalan. Not the 42 yo who’s working drive-thru, not the woman cleaning floors as her second job, not the hobo who lives under the interstate. Hollywood director Shyamalan ding-dong deserves our pimpathy bc his last film sucked.
Movieweb reports that, when the downtrodden director heard the reviews for “Glass” in the US sucked, he cried in the studio. “Glass” went on to $246 million WW so he can console himself with a $40K bottle of French wine, as opposed to the Pabbs shit we all drink.
Is Shyamalan single? That’s the only reason I can think a 50 yo man would admit to crying, while prepping to go on TV (famous), in London (world traveler), who’s worth approx. $80 million (rich). Showing your sensitive side is a way to score, not garner more hits on Complex dude. Forget etransferring cash to those poor African bastards – Night Man needs an “attaboy” on his way back to the set.
Or he’s a complete candy-ass, and given there are no boobs in his movies, that makes sense. (Same for director McG when he cut that topless scene from Terminator sequel)
Maybe he shortens his first name, Manoj, bc it means Punce Daddy in some other language; cause is saf doesn’t translate to “man up” in English.
Once Karens roamed the urban landscape freely, admired for their beauty and benevolence and wit; now they lumber through craft stores and fast-casual restaurants, and no-one bends their knee anymore.
We feel sorry for the Karens of the western world – we really do – as the reality of their sitch hits home like a gloved mall-cop (as per link below).
Women have been told since age 12 to dress up nice, makeup face and hair, and for fcs don’t let anyone see your clunge. Then sometime in the late teens (or earlier), they discover that certain anatomical features can make them money, gain power over weak men, and generally level-up amongst lesser women.
But in the early 40s – or late 40s if you have a trainer and dietician and established Sugar Daddy (e.g. JLo) – parts drop, hairstylists take longer, and you’re told to cover up bc “no-one wants to see that”. (Men are to blame here btw – not as much as the Fashion Industry and Procter&Gamble, but we are shamed).
Their child-bearing years behind them, Queen Karen discovers her mere presence doesn’t command obedience as all the feminists told her it would. Their family has moved on (bc biology), the Male Gaze eludes them, and pink-framed glasses and layered, frosted hair cant hide that they are on the downslope. Reflexively they shout at a world that no longer sees them as threatening financially, worth bedding, or even sympathetic as a mother.
Karen: volunteer at the local soup kitchen, donate blood, maybe a quilt for the women’s shelter – in the meantime stow your privilege and stfu.
I have some critical info that may be a shock to some – women arent as interested in seeing your erect phallus as much as you are. We’re sure it’s very impressive and good for you achieving Level 12 masturbation, but only a statistical anomaly of blazing women want to see it as much as you want them to. Snapping, we know.
You’re making it worse for the rest of us. Here we Cool Men are, trying to slide some lilly moves on a naive young hottie, but you’ve made her afraid to keep DMing in case she’s suddenly assaulted with a Big Dick. Texting your junk is like purchasing a lottery ticket – the upside is huge, but the chances are so low as to make a sensible Joe reconsider the whole expedition.
We could talk about the skills of seduction, the complexity of women’s feelings, the female libido, manning-up, etc – but at the end of the day, YOUR dick is making US look like dicks. Not a team play bro. Warriors are not inserting dick pictures in family films at the local cineplex anymore – junior high is over, bro.
Even if there was some skank stranger who’s “I want a piece of that”, she’s not a pentax babe like Emma Louise Jones, who has the figure of Jessica Rabbit and the bank account of a mid-level broadcaster (and recent recipient of said pic). One look at Emma tells you she already has her choice of high-priced sausage dude – and it’s not yours.
Congrats to Dennis Rodman’s daughter Trinity, an 18 yo soccer superstar who’s been drafted at this virginal age into the National Women’s Soccer League. It’s splendiferous to achieve one of your goals at an early age, even if most sports fans have never heard of the NWSL.
From there is a short spring to professional woman’s soccer in Europe and the USWNT – who must be legitimate bc they have an acronym. The Republic World says that despite her father’s genes (e.g. height), Trinity wants to “make it big on her own accord” – good for you muffin.
Note that, in the world of women’s team sports, “making it big” means the same banks as a unionized garbage collector, as opposed to the righteous coin once made by Dad. The average annual salary of a 2021 NBA player is $7.7 million, which is more than any women’s soccer player has ever made her entire career.
And that’s not because women can’t dunk, or throw touchdowns, or skate fast, or kick the soccer ball past mid-field … I forgot where I was going with this. But if finances in the Big Leagues are pinny, Trinity can also go back to Daddy for a car-loan or maybe a working kettle while on tour (surprisingly the Worm only has 3 kids to divvy up his cheddar).
We doubt that Trinity or any others fathered by Rodman have to go thru life ass-out – but it’s not too late to give her a golf-club or a tennis racquet Dennis.
In this age of Cancel Culture, the only sure path to victory in Hollywood now is by Untimely Death. Sympathetic accolades and memes pour out of Big Media for even the most minor star nowadays, and Chadwick Boseman’s tragic death refuses to be forgotten.
Boseman is likely to be nominated for his role in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” – don’t worry if you didn’t see it, few did, bc that’s how it goes for most of the Oscar nominations this year (and every year?). Other likely nominations include Anthony Hopkins (won previously), Riz Ahmed (too soon), and Delroy Lindo – but none of them will have the gin-stained tears of sympathy that Boseman now has in pop culture.
You could be the second coming of Marlon fricking Brando, and you’re not gonna win against the bleeding hearts and SJW in the Academy, who will not only vote for a poor, dead, black guy, but accuse any votes otherwise as uncaring, racist, and canceled. Don’t even think of rewarding an old, English white guy – or even someone who, you know, actually deserves to win – bc there’s a dead celebrity that needs to be canonized. Death has a way of washing away past sins, right Kobe?
It’s the same winds that allowed druggie Heath Ledger to win posthumously in 2009 – although, true dat he was pretty good as the Joker in “The Dark Knight”. We’re not saying a man of color shouldn’t win an Oscar (Daniel Kaluuya was robbed by Gary Oldman in 2017) – but dying certainly helps Boseman’s odds. It’s a modern marvel to witness how far the Academy twist and scoop to honor one of their own – should a Gaffer who died in a rollwood accident be given the same tribute as an old, spent queen?
Hollywood will use the Oscars as a virtue-signalling event for the foreseeable future and sux2bu to give the performance of a lifetime the year someone beloved dies. Meryl Streep must be rolling in her grave – or should be, if she wants to win again.
In the beginning, there was Professional Sports, and Sports Fans saw that it was good. From their collegiate and club genesis, they stretched across the nation, and spread the word of pay-for-play across the earth. The Owners looked across the media landscape, and said “let there be coverage”, and so it was across radio, television, and the Internet.
And the WAGs followed, like moths to a flame, as the sports Bread rose without limit. Where once they were scattered and few, living off the non-unionized scraps of wayward baseball players, they have left their cheerleading birthright behind to become Brands to rival their Men. Now they number in the 1000s, sweeping across the social landscape with scant clothing, a plucky attitude, and exclusive access to a professional athlete who’s signing bonus pays for their Manhattan apartment.
Yay, through perfume, sweat, and tears, Sports WAGS have come to rule Big Media and The Gram, and will surely begat a generation of sexualized Arm Candy. Like weeds they have begun to cling to lesser crops – mostly high-school ballers – and seek shelter from the winds of Golddigger Recrimination in the temples of the WNBA, CFL, and Poker Stars. They have forsaken the tenants of both Hollywood and Housewives, and prophesize to their Followers of a new Mecca where prenupts are forbidden, and endorsements and great shoes plentiful.
Anyways… that’s how we come to know Jean Watts, and thank the Lord.