Peckerwood Manor

Welcome, my chickens, to the latest edition of "Who's The Thirstiest Ho?" First up, we have Mark Ruffalo, who's baring his man teats and arm pitties for all to see while posing like a bloated squid that's tranqued on benzos and ready for either a wee nap or a moment of lazy-I'll-just-flop-here-and-you-do-me sexytimes-while-my-tushy-burps-a-blaster. I s this thirsty? Oh, my goodness, yes it is.   Also, what is "Perfect" magazine? And do they really think this dead-eyed crusty moose-knuckle is "perfect" or "sexy?" This picture screams raunchy unwashed ball stank, it screams a desperate combover to hide a beachball-sized bald spot, it screams a filthy hairy back sprouting mushrooms and infested with gnats and fermented feta cheese, it screams crutch tips and house slippers and dried earwax specks dotting a black turtleneck and power walking at the mall and nipple-high pants and enough nose hair to knit a sweater.  "I'm 55 no