Big magazine assignments on attractive and “fresh-faced” female celebrities used to be reserved exclusively for men over 50 with something to prove and an overabundance of Viagra. Want to learn how literally any Hollywood starlet has both ample breasts and abundant talent, without gleaning anything noteworthy about her? Look to any number of profiles of female celebrities written by men.
But you’re in luck: Use the Cut’s exclusive Mad Libs men’s-magazine profile generator, and you too can write a profile of an attractive female celebrity — steak, emptiness, solipsism, and bullfighting included. Hop to! Your deadline approaches!
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A Mad Libs Profile of An Attractive Female Celebrity, as Written by a Man
Legend has it that when trappers first came upon the mountain range we know now as the Grand Tetons, they believed them to resemble a particular part of the female anatomy, so they named them the Great Boobs Mountains. Many a man has tried to capture the majesty of Great Boobs Mountains in words, and much like attempts to describe the adjective1 beauty of female-celebrity-name, most fail. Noble man that I am, I present my attempt at doing both.
Like a mountain pushing through a passing cloud, female-celebrity-name walked into the secluded restaurant on the Malibu coast that I was sitting in, looking like a item-of-food. She was adjective2, adjective3, and adjective4, and though she is age2, she doesn’t look a day over age1. Her signature body-part1 were practically glistening in the morning air, and as she verb1 toward me, I remembered the first time I saw the Grand Tetons and tried in my head to compare them to female-celebrity-name. They are, I mused, nothing compared to her. She grinned at me adverb, and I felt a part of my steely heart melt into brown goo.
female-celebrity-name isn’t all about sex appeal. The first thing she said as she entered the booth across from me at this secluded Malibu coastside restaurant is — well, I don’t remember, because I wasn’t listening. But I did notice as she ordered a drink1, she ordered it like a man: straight up and ballsy. She was wearing a clothing and the getup fit her like a glove. I could tell that she was about to woo me with her adjective5 conversation. I braced myself for contact. Is this woman the new older-actor?
“Loud, unintelligible noise,” she said, and she smiled because she thought I’d heard her. Isn’t that sweet? What I was really thinking about was dumb1 and dumb2 and of course, touching her body-part2, but aren’t we all? She exists to be consumed: She’s the new older-actor. I saw female-celebrity-name in her latest film, a film for which she surely deserves several award-type. female-celebrity-name acts her little heart out: She’s like if my sister were hot and I could bonk her. In fact, she’s like America’s little sister. She’s the sister that we all wished we had — and we are all dying to bonk her.
The thing that most people don’t realize about female-celebrity-name is that she wasn’t born and bred in Los Angeles like some sort of magical sexy robot for our viewing pleasure. No, no. Not the case, sir. She is from a place, and that place is random-town. Her mom was a job1 and her dad was a job2 and she was the third of six siblings. She’s a zodiac-sign but what do you care about that? It’s not important. She made it out of there and onto the silver screen. Here, I will take a short break to describe, in length, a boxing match I once saw in a hearty town full of culture, like Rome or Savannah.
Anyway. Back to this woman, if we can even call her that, because she is more like a animal. She made it out of random-town before she graduated high school, knowing that the Hollywood life was for her. “Whirring, buzzing, droning sound,” she told me about her childhood dreams and struggles to make it in the acting business over her second drink. “Screeching! Impossible screeching!” I get her. I really do. Like this adjective6 actress, I had dreams at that age. And now I just write sloppy magazine profiles to pay for my VR porn habit. But hey, here we were, at this little restaurant off the coast of Malibu, talking mano a mano. I realized that we’re level with each other, and I’m feeling confident, so I ordered a drink2. I told her, in great detail and length, the story I told you about the boxing match in Savannah or Rome. She was rapt. I began to consider this encounter with female-celebrity-name a date. I ceremoniously smirked, and swirled my drink3 in the center of my palm.
Which reminds me: Many people have speculated that female-celebrity-name has been cavorting with male-celeb. When I prodded her on this subject multiple times, she simply laughed it off: “No, I’m not seeing anyone right now,” she told me. It is the only thing I heard her say all night. And I heard it clear as day, as clear as sands leaking through an hourglass, which coincidentally, female-celebrity-name’s body is the same shape as. I’m talking about her Grand Tetons, if you catch my meaning.
As we parted ways at this gorgeous unnamed and nondescript restaurant off the Malibu coast, she turned around to flash me her winning body-part3 that some might argue made her career. I would argue that, too but she’s built of tougher stuff now. She mouthed something — what was it? It sounded like, “Yadda yadda yadda,” in her breathy growl — and she smiled. female-celebrity-name isn’t just the adjective7 new Hollywood actress. She’s the greatest one, too. And I gotta say, I like the way she looks in a bathing suit.