This old Hollywood leading man got castrated to preserve his voice and defeat his homosexual urges, this pregnant star got her husband hooked on sex toys, and this TV writer has a hilariously filthy mouth. He really takes life by the balls.

1. "This male Academy Award winner was known for his singing voice. What is not known to many is that to keep his career going and his voice, he had himself castrated. There are rumors that the castration was actually his way of preventing sexual urges he had for men which he thought was morally wrong." [CDaN]

2. "This non-famous husband of a famous pregnant star has been receiving sex toys and pornography at least once a day. His famous knocked-up wife has sworn off sex until she has the baby and has been compensating by sending him naughty little gifts each day. Trouble is, he's actually starting to enjoy the gifts more than his wife." [BuzzFoto]

3. "A showrunner is the person who is ultimately responsible for a television series. It may be the creator of the series, a producer, or the head writer. Emmy-winning comedy writer (and Major League Baseball announcer) Ken Levine shares this story about a showrunner with whom he once worked: "The showrunner on one particular series I worked on had maybe the filthiest mouth in Hollywood. Sailors and bikers would blush. But he was screamingly funny. For late night rewrites we would have a writers assistant in the room taking down what was pitched. One night our normal assistant was sick so they got a temp to replace her. This new assistant (we'll call her Prudy) didn't know what hit her. After about an hour she finally spoke up. She said to the showrunner in a stern tone, 'Can we just confine our comments to the script?' There was a hush in the room. No one talks back to a showrunner like that. We braced ourselves for the explosion. But it never came. The showrunner took it in stride and good spirit. He said, 'Alright, fine. Take this down,' and he began dictating. 'Fade in. Interior apartment – day. Fred enters. Fred says…' At which point he let fly the raunchiest, filthiest, c-bomb laden, XXX, perverse stream-of-conscious monologue ever uttered. Needless to say, we were all dying. When he was finished, careful not to leave out any depraved act or euphemism for sexual organ (he must've gone on for five minutes), he leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his neck, took a beat, and said to the temp: 'Okay, now read that back to me.'" [Blind Gossip]