Here’s Katy Perry at the premiere of The Smurfs on Sunday where she made sure everyone knows who she plays by wearing a tiny Smurfette dress that barely contained her heaving Smurf melons. (Saying Smurf berries would’ve been an insult, and I’m a gentleman first, boob ogler firstester.) On top of that, she managed to flash the entire crowd on the street her ass because if there are two things children’s movies need, it’s upskirts and giant tits. I’ve petitioned Disney for years, but apparently they’re too busy keeping Walt in perfect cryogenic sleep so he doesn’t start another Holocaust. He’s gonna get out eventually, folks.
Anyway, on a related note – boobs, not genocide – Russell Brand wrote a blog post about Amy Winehouse’s death and his own battle with addiction which is easy for him to talk about considering he has Katy Perry’s breasts to bat around for motivation. Unfortunately, the only thing comparable for Amy Winehouse would’ve been a crack rock the size of a tangerine. And if that doesn’t make sense, try imagining Michael Caine in The Dark Knight saying it: “One day, my partnah and I saw a choild playin’ with a crack rawk the soize of a tan-jah-reen. Wond-ah-ful jazz singer, she was, but the absa-lute face of a wombat. Picked our bloody pockets, she did.”