5 Brittle, Body-Conscious Honky Actresses Could Learn a Thing or Two From Mo'nique About Onscreen Orgasms
Yesterday, we suggested Mo'nique suffered from a yet-to-be-discovered neurological disorder known as Auscartism. We do believe apologies to Ms. 'nique are in order -- as it is we, not she, who is hopelessly Auscartistic. Not only is the Precious star (and, one feigned orgasm later, we're now convinced a Best Supporting Actress sure-thing) willing to submit to the drudgery of Oscar-season roundtables, she cuts a clean swath through the scores of anemic thoroughbreds pegged by THR as her strongest competition:
worthy actresses whose spindly waist circumferences are equal to that of one healthy Mo'thigh, who recoil in prudish terror at the thought of on-camera lovemaking and its unforgiving partner in crime, cellulite and/or flat-ass exposure. By comparison, Mo'nique's candid recollections of the glee with which she dove uninhibitedly into the Mary Jones Self-Diddling Sequence -- "Just dream," she advises the others, as if it were the most obvious advice ever dispensed -- are the golden filaments from which true cinematic light is sprung.
Give this fake-orgasming genius her trophy, already.