Caroline Vreeland‘s boobs are real, right? I really hope so, because I want to go on living in a world where such perfection can exist without the intervention of a plastic surgeon. I see so many fake boobs during the course of a normal work day that I don’t know what real boobs look like anymore unless they’re small and/or saggy.

If I see tits that are naturally big and round my first thought is always “Boob Job!,” because fake boobs are so damn prevalent these days that I just assume they’re EVERYWHERE.

It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, but with fake tits. I think this would be a great movie. I mean, if movies like Killer Condom, and Attack of the Killer Tomatoes! can get greenlit, why not movies about sentient breast implants that try to take over the world.

I’m pretty sure that’s what all those paps are doing hiding in bushes with their cameras. They’re definitely lying in wait to catch a glimpse of the breast implant uprising first hand. Creepy photographers are clearly unsung heroes. We’re constantly shitting on paparazzi and to think that all this time they’ve been trying to prevent the breast apocalypse.

Fingers crossed that Caroline’s boobs are real, I wouldn’t want her to fall victim to a species of small blob aliens. Beware the blob, it eats you alive!



I bought a nightgown (and when I say nightgown I mean oversized black jersey shirt) the other day that says “MERMAID” in big, bold red font, but, wait for it, underneath that it says “off duty,” because you see, I have legs and I don’t look like Elsa Hosk.

Elsa Hosk has legs, but clearly she made a deal with a sea witch that looks a lot like an octopus.

Speaking of sea witches who look like octopuses (octopi?), I was thinking the other day that all the Disney villains have impeccable style. Maleficent. Fierce. Cruella De Vil. Sharp. Ursula. On Fleek. Jafar. Basically a pimp.

What does this have to do with Elsa Hosk and this photoshoot she did for Madame Figaro? Absolutely fucking nothing, it was just a passing thought. I’m allowed to have those, okay!

Swinging back to the topic of Elsa Hosk, I really wish she would stop holding her boobs with her hands in this photoshoot. We’ve seen her tits so many times in the past I don’t see the point. All that boob holding is just ruining perfectly good shots.

In my fantasies, Elsa dyes her hair a deep strawberry blonde and she stars in a porny adaptation of The Little Mermaid. If I ever become a trillionaire, I’m making this happen.



Coachella happened, which means the internet is flush with pictures of hot young celebrities wearing culturally inappropriate clothing and/or very little clothing at all. I think the no clothing at all is the safer bet. When you don’t understand what cultural appropriation means, it’s best to avoid all iffy “festival” wardrobe choices and just go naked. At least that way you can be a hundred percent sure you won’t offend anyone.

I don’t know what Tove Lo wore as a festival goer, but when she was on stage she managed to avoid all Coachella cultural appropriation tropes. She didn’t wear any headbands, I don’t see any feathers, and there is not one bindi dot in sight. All I see are tits, which are definitely a Coachella staple, just not one of the racist ones.

Tove’s lastest album, Lady Wood, is all about that pussy power, so obviously there’s a large vagina hanging out at the back of the stage. It’s a light-cut-out-something-or-other that looks exactly like Tove’s pussy tattoo. It’s cool. I get it. I’ve been all about that pussy power from way back when before it was a trend.

The only reason I mention that I liked something before it became a trend is so you know I’m cool. I want that to be clear. I’m definitely cool. I was flashing my tits at random people on the street since before any of these #freethenipple Instagram celebrities ever heard of Coachella. I’m cool as ice, baby. And you better remember it.



Buying stuff is hard. I’ve wasted so many hours in the last few months researching cameras online. There’s just too much information and too much choice. I just want to take nice pictures damn it, without having to sell my first born child for the opportunity.

It’s okay, because I don’t plan on having any children, so giving my first born child to Rumpelstiltskin in exchange for a nice camera sounds like a good deal. That’s probably what every single person who ever made a deal with the devil has ever thought to themselves. Those imps are tricky bastards, though, and you never know what you’re getting yourself into.

Plus, if I was to make a deal with a devil imp type, I would probs aim higher then a camera. Maybe my own private island or something. Come to think of it, that could go wrong real quick. I’d have to specify what kind of island I’d want. I wouldn’t want to spend eternity on a rock in the middle of the ocean.

I just want a nice camera so I can trick hire models like Ella Weisskamp and take nude pictures where I get all artsy with light and color filters. That’s a way better life than spending eternity stranded on an island. I would trade sandy beaches and the ocean for boobs any day, especially Ella’s boobs, because they’re A+.

Check out Ella’s Instagram account, it’s worth it!



I’m kidding, I’m sure a lot of people care about HBO’s new miniseries “Big Little Lies.” I saw a few previews and it looked pretty good, but I don’t have HBO and I already have too many shows on my dance card already, so I didn’t really investigate further.

The premise is pretty cool, though. Who doesn’t want to watch a TV show about: “three mothers of first graders, whose apparently perfect lives unravel to the point of murder?” That’s television gold right there. Add to that Nicole Kidman’s boobs and you’ve got a winner.

Tom Cruise ruined Nicole Kidman. For a while there, post-divorce Kidman was a botoxed blonde who was barely recognizable. I blame Scientology.

I don’t know why or how Scientology is to blame, but I blame it anyway. Clearly they brainwashed Nicole into thinking she has to tinker with her looks. Not only did post-Tom Cruise nicole go nuts with the botox and the bleach, but she also got breast implants.

I had no idea Kidman had fake books, but looking at that GIF it’s impossible to deny. The proof is in the pudding. Natural boobs just don’t look that round and hard. Nope. I still appreciate seeing them. I just wish they were more squishy.

From the same show, I also threw in a picture of what could be Shailene Woodley’s ass. Then again, it could be a body double.

Personally, I have never understood people’s obsession with Shailene Woodley. I find her kind of boring. As a person and as an actress. She’s got a nice ass, though. I approve of that ass… whoever’s ass it is. Shailene or body double, either way, it’s good.



There’s no denying that Kendall, Kylie, Ireland, Hailey, Gigi, and Bella – you know, the children of famous people – are all gorgeous as fuck, but would these people have modelling careers if they had just walked off the street and into a modelling agency?

*Do people still do that? Walk into a modelling agency or is everything handled over Instagram these days?*

Probs, not. There are a lot of gorgeous people out there and getting booked by what’s-his-face for what’s-his-name is harder than it looks.

You used to have to give Terry Richardson a blow job if you wanted to make it as a model, these days you just have to be the child of a billionaire and/or have a buttload of followers online to make it in the industry.

Where are photographers getting their blowjobs now, huh? Where? THIS IS AN IMPORTANT ISSUE! You can’t expect Uncle Bad Touch to date like a normal dude, that’s just not how it works.

Bella Hadid has never had to suck on some dude’s knob to book a gig. No one should have to suck on some dude’s knob to book a gig, but I’m all for equal treatment. If the pretty girl from the backwoods of Florida needs to get on her knees to make it as a model, I don’t see why the Hadids and the Jenners should get special treatment.

This shoot has some boob and nip, so I’m somewhat mollified. I’m not ready to get my pitchfork yet. Yet, I say.



I’m not saying Tove Lo is the new Miley Cyrus, but they’re definitely taking pages from the same playbook. Tove Lo has been on the sex blog radars for a while now, but she hasn’t been popular enough or naked enough to take central billing, but I feel like that’s all changing now.

Ever since the launch of Tove’s new album Ladywood there’s been an increase in naked-ish Tove pics and vids. I’m not saying there’s a correlation, but it won’t hurt her sales that’s for sure. Let’s call it a happy coincidence!

Just a few days ago I wrote about Tove‘s pseudo-masturbation scene in the short film Fairy Dust and now she’s wearing weed pasties on her boobies. I’m sure I’ve seen these exact pictures featuring Miley Cyrus.


Who are those two other girls? Does anyone even care?

Yup, nailed it. Okay, Tove isn’t wearing a elf hat, so they’re not exactly the same, but they’re pretty close, amirite? I feel like those two should just meet up and hang out. Maybe smoke a spliff and suck on each other’s tits. Liam can sit in the corner and watch. I bet he would like that. He seems like the type.

As for Tove Lo she’s killing time getting vagina tattoos while waiting for her Miley and Liam threesome.

HONORED FOR LIFE ? @tawannunes ✨ yeay @samuelburgessjohnson @timerem

A photo posted by Tove Lo (@tovelo) on

At first I thought the tattoo looked vaguely churchy, because of the cross, but then I realized the cross is a butthole, so I shut up.

Actually, I can’t shut up. It kind of bugs me when people glorify drugs. I don’t care if people do drugs or not. I mean, that shit is their problem and as long as they’re not hurting other people I couldn’t give a shit, but do Peepz have to turn their drug use into their damn personality?!

You do drugs, I get it. Can we move on now?



Sigh. I’ve got a major crush on Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love’s daughter Frances Bean Cobain. I’m sighing, because the thought of Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love is making me miss my youth, which isn’t very hard to do since this decade seems to be all about reviving the ’90s.

Everytime I turn my head I see something from my childhood. Plaid everything? Check. Chockers? Check. Half naked daughters of your dead idols? Check. Except in the ’90s the half naked daughter of your dead idols was Liv Tyler and, oh, you know, Steven Tyler isn’t dead, but that’s the only difference. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE I TELL YOU.

I just read an interview where Frances says she doesn’t really like her parents music and that she actually prefers bands like Oasis, The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Mercury Rev from the same era. I bet Cobain is turning over in his grave about that one. For some reason I have a hard time imagining Kurt Cobain listening to and enjoying Oasis.

I’m not saying Oasis is rubish, except I am saying that Oasis is rubish because I’ve been known to sing along to Wonderwall. It’s impossible not to! That song is catchy as hell. Listen to it on YouTube right now, I dare you not to sing along. I DARE YOU.

It’s okay, I’ll wait right here with Frances. Just me, Frances, and her boobs. We don’t mind being by ourselves. We’re good. We’ll manage. Ahhhh, fuck. I lied. We’re lonely. Come back. We miss you. We can’t handle the internet without you. It’s a scary place.



As a young lass I had a pretty big crush on Christian Slater. I blame several movies for this awakening: Heathers, Gleaming The Cube, Young Guns II, True Romance, and last, but not least Pump Up The Volume. PUTV was a revelation! I thought every word that came out of Hard Harry’s mouth was pure poetry. The music was awesome and the whole flick had this really sexy vibe to it with Christian Slater’s character and Samantha Mathis’s character getting all up in each other’s business.

Seriously, if I could time travel to a reality that only existed on film, I would screw Christian Slater so hard. So hard. Fuck time travel. I’d screw him now.

Okay, that’s enough about Christian Slater (IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH)… the person we’re really here to see is Samantha Mathis. Samantha Mathis as the Eat Me Beat Me Lady in Pump Up The Volume. She was perfect. Her hair was perfect, her perky boobs were perfect, her dark red lipstick was perfect. She was the embodiement of the quintessential ’90s cool girl and I wanted her as much as I wanted to be her.

I mean, damn.


Talk hard, I like that. It’s like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind.

If you’ve got a thing for ’90s nostalgia and you’ve never seen Pump Up the Volume I suggest you go seek it out now. There’s a scene where Samantha’s character shows up at Christian’s house and they stand around his backyard with their shirts off. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife. A knife, I tell you.

Just thinking about it is getting me worked up. Is it just me or is it getting hot in here? I need a cold shower or a five minute break, so I can attend to my needs.

Click on images below for larger versions:

Via – Follow Lola Byrd on Twitter @misslolabyrd


Tallulah Willis is painfully cool. She’s part of that generation of celebrity kids that are famous for being famous. For some reason all you need these days to be a celebrity is to be the daughter of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore, oh, and to post pics of your boobs on the Internet with semi-regular frequency.

One must not forget the boobie pics. Those are key to one’s level of fame in this Instagram age.

Bruce and Demi’s youngest daughter goes beyond your typical “free the nipple” Instagram photoshoot here and goes in for some staged masturbation in an bathroom. It’s kind of hot.

There’s her flaming orange hair. The color looks really good on her. I also dig the curls. That lipstick shade is to die for. I don’t mean me. I wouldn’t die for it, but if someone else died for it I might turn a blind eye. Those two color juxtaposed with the yellow tile of the bathroom cubicle really make everything pop, especially those over-sized white panties.

I dig the panties, because they look like men’s tighty whities, which comes across as kind of transgressive. And, of course, there’s the nice full breasts, the pierced nipple, and the hand down the underwear. Yup, it ALL works for me. All of it.

You can find these pics and more in Tyler Shields new photography art book titled Provocateur.

I don’t necessarily find these pictures provocative, but then again I’m not easily shocked. I’ve been reading the comments (never read the comments! Except Peeperz comments, because Peeperz is a safe place) and lots of people are being really freaking critical about these pictures.

Personally, I don’t get it. I think they are beautiful. Meanwhile, other people look at what I find beautiful and they can only spew hateful comments. One dude even managed to draw a parallel to Trump:

“And they criticised Donald Trump for locker room talk yet it’s ok for women to pose for filthy photos then complain when men make rude comments!!

Anyway, she looks like a man in drag.” [sic]

Really, dude? Really? You have to be such miserable fuck and a hateful douche to look at some arty nudes and somehow turn that into a Trump pseudo-defense. “Oh well, gee, you can’t really blame a guy for making comments about assaulting women when there’s all these naked women around.” IT MAKES ALL THE SENSE.

Oh God, I hate Trump so much. I’d rather loose some readers than have fans that are going to vote for him.

In summation, love boobies, hate Trump.

Now good day. I said GOOD DAY, sir!