The next Jude Law

What the fuck is all the big deal about Robert Pattinson?  If I was Ellen Degeneres and Robert Pattinson was on my show, after I danced and gave some nice people from Iowa a vacation to Panama City Florida, I would look him right in that pasty little girly face and say "what the fuck is all the big deal about you, Robert Pattinson?"  Seriously, I want to know.  I know he's young and British and has good cheekbones -- but, honestly, do you know that Forbes fucking magazine named him of of the most powerful celebrities in the world?  A "Celebrity 100" like he's gonna squat and drop a golden fucking egg right in front of you on command.  If Robert Pattinson isn't the luckiest fucking recipient of the "I was in the fucking right place at the fucking right time" award, I don't know who is.  I want a celebrity hunk to have some impressive church bells, you know what I'm saying (there's a good friend of mine out there who certainly knows exactly what I'm saying)?  This guy can't even bring himself to comb his fucking hair -- if I can call that his hair.  I mean, really, who undoes your hair, Robert Pattinson??? 

Looks like somebody rubbed their balls all over your head and pushed you out in front of the camera. 

Get a mirror, Robert Pattinson.  And a brush.  Reese Witherspoon sure has his number -- she says that he can't dance, can't kiss, can't stop touching himself in his warm places and has the breath of a dead animal.  Seriously, she told me that she thought she was kissing the wrong end of him at first.  So, what the fuck Time Magazine -- you have to name him one of the 100 most influential people in the whole fucking world for 2010?  What carrot did he pull out of your fucking garden to make that list?  I guess there's nobody better since Martin Luther King and Mother Teresa bit the big one?  Let's see, Abraham Lincoln is dead and Liz Taylor finally croaked.  Next in line?  A little girly man with pencil thin arms who hasn't combed his hair or shaved himself yet. 

Was that harsh?  Sorry.

I don't mean to be harsh about Robert Pattinson.  I actually feel a bit sorry for him.  Did you know that in May 2010, Madame Tussaud's premiered a wax statue of him?  When he showed up for the unveiling. all the paparazzi confused the real Robert Pattinson with the wax figure.  It must have been terribly embarrassing for poor Robert Pattinson.  Apparently, he turned to a photographer taking a picture using one of those big long lenses and said "pull down your britches and I'll give you a better shot."  Only then did they figure out the confusion. 

Here's another story about Robert Pattinson that comes under the title of "Get a Mirror, pal."   He started modeling at age 12.  Apparently, according to Robert Pattinson, he was moderately successful for about 4 years because he was "quite tall and looked like a girl."  He says that he was a sought after model during that time because the androgynous look was very popular.  This both confuses and titillates me.  However, around 16 years of age, he became too masculine and too much of a "guy," so Robert Pattinson never got any more jobs. 

 Really?  I think the wig-hat is on too tight and, again I say, "Get a Mirror, pal."

Now, we all know that Robert Pattinson is mostly known for those vampire movies where he gazes plaintively into people's eyes -- lips seductively parted ever so slightly (refer to note from Reese Witherspoon), kisses them (again, refer to note from Reese Witherspoon) and then sucks on this and that (Reese Witherspoon has nothing for us on this one).  I am not sure if this qualifies him as a real vampire or some guy named Britt from an old porno I have entitled "Logjammer."  Anyway, this vampire stuff has brought him some notoriety.  Yes, some.  Just enough to name him as one of the highest paid actors in Hollywood according to 2009 earnings.

So what this tells me is -- if I really was Ellen Degeneres and Robert Pattinson was on my show, after I dressed myself in a Velcro suit and threw myself up on a wall of that funky hook material, I would certainly ask him about his messy hair and when the fuck he was going to get cast as Larry in the new Three Stooges movie.  And then I'd ask him if he could give me some money.

And that, my friends, is really what this entire rant comes down to.  Not his pencil thin arms, not his girly androgynous look that was popular when he was 12, and certainly not his breath which stinks like butt.  It all comes down to the money.  At all of 25 years of age, Robert Pattinson could fucking buy and sell me.  And you and apparently Mother Teresa too.  In this age of celebrity, this mal-coifed little slip of a thing has more fucking money than he knows what do to with.  While I do not particularly envy his age, his celebrity, his hair, his cheekbones, his assbreath or his starpower, I certainly do envy his money.  And I don't really like what that says about me.