you don't want to know what I want to do to him
WHAT. OH MY GOD. WHAT.
So, while Russell was filming Forgetting Sarah Marshall in Hawaii, he did this retrospective called Big Brother According to Russell Brand. It's about as boring as you'd think, being how it's about Big Brother, years and years of it. (I'd expect. I didn't get past six minutes or so because OH GOD WHAT, WHAT IS HE WEARING THERE, MY HEART!!!1)
Before that though:
Thighs. And... THIGHS.
Still don't know if that's his shirt or his character's; either way, wow, kinda on the tight side, not that I have any complaints--
--because ♥.
It's actually really, really ridiculously tight. Gah. ♥
HIS LITTLE BELLY, WHAT. INSERT TMI HERE. I HAVE NOTHING.
I WOULD SO COME TO YOUR HUT MADE OF PALM LEAVES.
!!!!!
This entry entirely too accurately reflects what it's like being 25: I've been reduced to capslock, exclamation marks and less-than-threes, with the odd keysmash thrown in. I'm sorry, Russell, I tried language but it wasn't enough. Also your stylin' plastic lei short-circuited my everything. ♥
eta
Forfuckingreal. Can't handle it.
Ahaha what.
Why does he have to go from *retardface!* to *BURNS* in like a nanosecond?
He knows magic. You know it's true.
FAAAAAACE.
♥
Also, there's smudges from his fug fake tattoos on his arms. Why does even that make my heart burn?
In eloquent conclusion: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!