Showing posts with label justin bobby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justin bobby. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

the best 5 minutes of tv every week


Thanks, Justin Bobby. Tonight's episode started with his naked sex wolf body surfing in the blue seas and golden sun of Malibu. I marvel at his guido chest hair and heinous "ITALI" tattoo scrawled across his abdomen. Thank you, MTV, for giving this guy airtime. He's a dream come true.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

suspenders


Justin Bobby debuted a new accessory tonight on The Hills before he proceeded to make out with Kristin @ Playhouse... I think suspenders are gonna be his new thing, and along with his silver shimmering motorcycle helmet, he satisfied my craving for good man fashion tonight. Check him out. Delish!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

JB's Back

It's officially Fall! Justin Bobby's back on TV, and his half-sensical one-liners, unruly scruff, and genius wardrobe have captured my heart again. I don't blame Kristin Cavallari for blatantly inviting herself onto the back of JB's motorcycle and into her "spick and span" bed on just the 1st new Hills episode of the season. I'd die to grip his love handles thru his dirty leather jacket on a Hollywood highway at dusk, and I'd die twice to not sleep beside him. Keep it crazy, Justin.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

likes her gentlemen not to be gentle

I have no shame at the fact that I watch The Hills, and tonight's season finale episode premiered a new look for my main man J-B. His mountain man beard fully complimented his facial contortions (sneaking some shots of Maker's Mark? Fleas up in there?) One thing's for sure, as much as watching the Hills wastes time, confounds the mind, and is generally a soul-sucking nuisance, I'm gonna miss Justin's antics, clothes, and Zen words of wisdom. Till fall, baby, till fall.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

justin bobby is my clothes idol

All black, short pants, striped socks, and shit-kicking boots. What more could you ask for in an ensemble???? (image from mtv.com)
Like I told John this weekend at the sample sale, I wish I could wear boys' clothes.
Sometimes I would rather have the wardrobes of Julian Casablancas and/or Kurt Cobain than MKO and/or Kate Moss. Maybe I'm just a cross dresser.