George Clooney covers the new issue of Rolling Stone, likely to promote his latest film, The Descendants. I’m personally not all over seeing that, just because I think Alexander Payne is an overrated director whose films often make a better trailer than a good movie. I hated About Schmidt, did I ever mention that? I loathed that film. Anyway, Clooney is in his Oscar Campaign Mode, kissing his own ass in between feigning humility and talking about his humanitarian interests. Don’t get me wrong – I like Clooney’s passion for Hollywood, and his passion for his humanitarian work. But he’s sometimes off-putting instead of cool these days. Plus, I really think his back is killing him, because he’s always hunched over like a gnome these days, and that’s affected how I think of him now: like an old dude who has abused his body and who should stop messing around with these trashy young girls. Here are some highlights from the cover story:

Losing his virginity: Clooney reveals that that while he lost his virginity at the age of 16 (“young, very young, too young”), he had his first orgasm when he was much younger. “I believe it was while climbing a rope when I was six or seven years old,” he says. “I mean, nothing came out, but all the other elements were there. I remember getting to the top of the rope, hanging off the rope, and going, “Oh, my God, this feels great!”

Immature humor: Despite his debonair appearance, Clooney’s sense of humor can get a bit sophomoric. For example, the word “Johnson” always makes him laugh. “Always. ‘He showed her his Johnson and she left.’ You can actually say that in mixed company or on late-night TV.” He’s also pretty fond of farts, especially when hanging out with his pals. “We think it’s one of the funniest things in the history of mankind. Even the idea of a fart makes me laugh. Saying the word ‘fart’ makes me laugh. I have iFart on my phone. I have remote whoopee cushions. Farts. To me, there’s nothing funnier.”

On Stacy Keibler: He’s perfectly fine with his current lady, former pro wrestler Stacy Keibler, tweeting about “smiling all day long.” “She can do whatever she wants,” he says. “I rarely tell anybody what they should be doing with their life.”

He worships his dad: He may be one of the biggest celebrities in the world now, but Clooney grew up in the shadow of his father, a local TV newsman in Ohio and Kentucky. “You have to remember that in the microcosm of Cincinnati, Ohio through northern Kentucky, my father was a big, big star. So that made my sister and me really visible. Everybody knew us, talked about us. If I scored 15 points in a basketball game, the paper would say ‘Nick Clooney’s son scored 15 points.'”

His early diagnosis with Bell’s Palsy: The fame was especially difficult for Clooney as he was struggling with the onset of Bell’s palsy, a form of facial paralysis. “It was very awkward, being watched like that, everybody looking at us, and then all of a sudden your face goes flat? My dad would always say, ‘It’s going to go away, you’ll be fine, you can handle it.” But it was a tricky thing. So, you develop a better personality and learn how to make jokes about it.”

His humanitarian work: “My name is George and the world is in trouble. I can name you 40 hot spots in the world right now, and not just physically violent hot spots, but financially violent hot spots as well.”

He’s not Frank Sinatra: “I think one of the major misconceptions about me is that I live my life the way people think I lead my life, with hot and cold drinks running everywhere and a party all the time. They think of my life in terms of certain excesses that don’t really exist. Things are actually fairly simple,” Clooney says.

He’s not metrosexual: “I’m the least metrosexual cat you’ve ever met. I’ve never had my fingernails or toenails done, and I’ve cut my own hair longer than other people have cut my hair,” Clooney says. “On an awards-show day, I can play basketball, go in, take a shower and put on a tux – it takes me three minutes to put on a tux – and be out the door in 15 minutes.”

The Ides of March was cheap: Clooney directed and starred in ensemble political drama The Ides of March earlier this year. “It’s not designed for everybody to see, but I don’t give a shit,” he says. “I don’t need to be more famous and we shot it for $12 million, so anything we do is nice.”

The Descendants is a brilliant film, he says: Clooney’s most recent movie is a darkly amusing family drama called The Descendants, of which he says, “If it’s not nominated for Best Picture, I’ll be shocked. It’s that good.”

[From Rolling Stone]

Did I mention that I saw The Ides of March? I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s not actively bad, it’s just a waste of money and it has, like, a kindergarten-level understanding of politics. OK, that’s not fair. Middle-school level. If you want to see a good movie about modern presidential campaigning, watch the last two seasons of The West Wing and don’t mess around with this Ides of March nonsense.

As for his comments on Keibler – BITCH PUH-LEASE. He’s not stopping her tweeting? After he shut down Elisabetta Canalis’s Twitter after she re-tweeted something about Jennifer Aniston looking like Iggy Pop? Just wait for it.

Photos courtesy of Rolling Stone & WENN.