"I'm a straight guy and I love Brad Pitt. I mean talk about gorgeous—what a gorgeous guy. You don't have to be gay to say that. And, yes, I would like to wrestle him—in oil. Absolutely!"—pro wrestler Chris Jericho tells Joy Behar how he'd prefer Brad over Angelina. Well, he's only human.
I think I'm going through the change—but I'm not exactly sure what I'm changing into. I'm more annoyed with things I used to let slide. I've also noticed that The Joy Behar Show is usually preceded by commercials for mastectomy fashions, followed by one for free catheter samples. Am I their target market? Clearly I'm becoming a middle-aged woman, because who else would have sat through that dreck known as The Bachelor? I was transfixed watching Brad sobbing uncontrollably when reunited with his brothers and mother. I cry when I see my family, but I'm usually trying to get the jump on the eventual tears that will flow during our first blow up. And Brad seems awfully close with his brother. I realize twins have a special bond, but it seems very "special" to me. Still, I was glad to see his twin—I always wondered what a heterosexual version of Brad would look like.
You know what someone else wanted to see? Jake Gyllenhaal's penis. Can't blame him for that. Here's what happened. At the world premiere of Source Code at the South by Southwest Film Festival, a fan followed Jake into the men's room and went to the urinal next to him. So far you could be describing my encounter with Brad Pitt, but that's another story. While Jake was urinating, the guy actually tried to take a photo. OK, that takes balls—no pun intended (alright, maybe slightly intended). Jake grabbed the guy—presumably after tapping it and putting it away—shoved him against the wall and said, "Are we really gonna do this right now?" Like Bachelor Brad, the guy ran out of the room crying like a little girl—after Jake asked him to delete the photo. I've been around to know that "delete" never really means delete. So, honey, contact me and let's recover that sucker.
Jenny McCarthy got tongues wagging last week when she was photographed walking on the beach with a hot shirtless guy. McCarthy tweeted that everyone reading this column would have a better chance with him than her: "Beach photos today, I'm with my gay hairdresser. Yes he's hot but he likes meat and potatoes. I don't have any."
Someone else spied on the beach was Calvin Klein and his boy toy/soulmate (depending on which one you ask) Nick Gruber. The former underwear model-cum-porn star turned up with the designer in SoBe while I was there for the Winter Party. I got messages of numerous sightings of them frolicking in the surf, and I'll post some of the photos on BillyMasters.com . But Nick's backstory is far more scandalous than bedding a bedding designer. This is a story about destruction, lies, injury and loss of innocence. It has all the makings of a good Tara Reid movie (if there is such a thing), but this is real life.
In January 2010, Gruber rented a house in Russian River, Calif., for the weekend at a rate of $295 a night—or roughly what he charges for an hour. Although the owner didn't want to rent to a 20-year-old, Nick said that he wanted to propose to his fiancée (presumably of the female persuasion) before going off to fight in Afghanistan. Bottoming for Calvin Klein, fighting al-Qaida—kinda the same thing. He signed a lease, which allegedly stated the house would only be used by the young couple. And yet somehow what transpired was an out-of-control rave that was attended by 300-400 kids (many of whom claimed they paid $5 to attend—that Nicki's always thinking). The climax, as it were, was when the deck collapsed and dozens of attendees ended up in the hospital with broken bones. Well, he should be used to broken bones by now! The county sheriff said, "At one point we had a house where they were shooting X-rated movies in a residential area." Now it's all coming together.
As we previously reported, The Real World: Las Vegas cast member Dustin Zito has a past as gay porn star Spencer on Fratmen and Fratpad. He even mentions it fleetingly (an apt description) on the first episode of "RW." It's one thing to refer to it—it's another thing for people to be able to see it. That may be why most nude photos and footage (specifically, a scene where he orally services fellow Fratman Travis) have mysteriously vanished from the web. We're told MTV ain't so happy about people like me, who are in possession of this very explicit material. So I suggest you check out BillyMasters.com as soon as possible—Lord knows how long they'll last!
Our "Ask Billy" question promises to bring you even more flesh. Randy in San Antonio wrote, "I just saw some photos of Jeremy Jackson, who is now a fitness addict. The photos had the most important parts blacked out. Can you find the unedited pics? I want to see how the little boy from Baywatch is shaped all over!"
In the past, I've told you that little Jeremy Jackson has grown into a sexy young man—if you're into that dangerous, drug-addled look. I don't mean to imply that he is actually drug-addled—at least not right now. As the questioner stated, Jackson admits that his addiction of choice is working out. In fact, Lifestyle Magazine reports, "He's not only addicted to the gym—he can't stop injecting HGH and testosterone. We're told Jeremy even injects himself with vitamin B-12." I know that all this stuff is supposed to be bad for you, but I must admit that he looks really hot—as you can see in the photos posted on BillyMasters.com .
Someone else who's really hot is Justin Hartley—even as a woman! His character in Smallville dressed as a showgirl to avoid some criminals in a plot twist that is too convoluted to go into here. And, frankly, the only thing that matters is that you can check him out on BillyMasters.com .
When The Real World ain't so real, it's definitely time to end yet another column. I remember the first time I met Justin Hartley was in Kathy Griffin's kitchen—which sounds a lot like Jenny McCarthy being at the beach with her hairdresser. Things that make you go, "Hmmm"—which you'll do repeatedly at www.BillyMasters.com . If you have a question you want me to tackle, write to Billy@BillyMasters.com and I promise to get back to you before Gruber ends up on Fratmen! So, until next time, remember, one man's filth is another man's bible.
