While you were off getting drunk and shooting bottle rockets at your nephew this past weekend, Rihanna was seen celebrating July 4th in Las Vegas in what we call very appropriate gear. Instead of wearing a normal shirt under her blazer, she was sporting two silver-sequined, star-shaped pasties, those lovely little areolae-covering attachments that allow burlesque dancers to look down on strippers.
How patriotic! In honor of Rihanna’s outfit, we’ve gathered the best pasty moments in pop culture, and no, we’re not talking about your pale ass. If a nipple sticker counts as decent clothing, then we hope hot women everywhere pick up the trend. Check out the Super Twosday approved moments below…
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From beheadings to horses getting head, your main critic with a did-dick Ayo! Scott has seen it all online. I'm not proud of my voyeurism (especially after I wipe up my skeet with a dirty sock), but Curiosity isn't just a limber ladyboy I found in the back pages of The Village Voice. Does the overwhelming desire to watch disturbing shit really make me a bad person?
This is the question you'll be asking yourself while peeping the Diane Lane thriller Untraceable, which comes out on DVD today. Lane, my 43-year-old wet dream girl, plays an FBI agent on the hunt for a serial killer who broadcasts his murders live online. The catch is that he's not technically the one killing people; torture devices are hooked up to his Killwithme.com site's hit counter, so increased traffic accelerates a victim's death and anyone who logs on becomes an accomplice to murder. (Thankfully nobody has set this up in real life because we already have enough Internet thugs pretending they're killers. Come see Ayo! Scott, you cock goblins!)
A lot of serial killer flicks thrust a dull message into your gut, but Untraceable was sharp enough to get me thinking. Maybe the movie is hypocritical for depicting torture to entertain me, then suggesting I'm an asshole for digging it, but I can enjoy a torture scene without analyzing it to death. Personally, I like to just watch Lane from afar with a cold one in one hand and a hot one in the other. It does the trick for me until there's online video of her husband, that motherfucking lucky asshole James Brolin, involved in equestrian bukkake. See the trailer for Untraceable after the break.
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