Imagine being Tom in that photo and having to be all like "damn, Giselle, you fuckin' fine, all sexy with your skeletor body and horrific goblin face. I would totally have sex with you, both my public persona and the real me." when all he really wants to do is rehearse for his next breakout role in denying illegally altering football equipment. Like seriously imagine having to be Tom and not only sit in that bed while Giselle throwd her disgusting body on top of you, the favorable lighting barely concealing her disgusting shoulder blades and streatch marks from Jamaal, and just sit there, take after take, hour after hour, while she perfects her craft. Not only having to tolerate her emiciated fucking visage but her haughty attitude as everyone on set tells her she's STILL GOT IT and DAMN, GISELLE LOOKS LIKE *THAT*?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch her mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been working with nothing but fit military girls, cutie theater girls and later xenomorphs for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of Julliard. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat and stench that's coming from her hairy hue asshole as she attempts to suck it in to writhe suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in her "statuesque (for that is what she calls herself)" beauty, the beauty she worked so "hard" for with a diet of footlongs and diet coke in the previous months. And then the publicist calls for another take, and you know you could deflate every single person in this room before the studio security could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking tom Brady. You're not going to lose your 30 for 30 show over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it
Lel
>>77131326