Universally beloved, lantern-jawed, throwback-to-a-handsomer-era Mad Men star Jon Hamm is officially exhausted by the meme-ification of his genitalia. Last week, a New York Daily News story, tapping penis-minded insiders familiar with the fit of Hamm's reportedly seam-obliterating manhood inside the show's snug-fitting '60s fashions, claimed that "Jon’s impressive anatomy is so distracting that they politely insisted on underwear” underneath pants that "leave little to the imagination," and that the aforementioned focus-pulling cobra-basket needed to be Photoshopped out of previous seasons' promotional materials.

The Internet responded to this wang-chumming of its waters with its typical ravenousness for matters of celebrity girth disclosure, devouring the gossip and vomiting up breathlessly gleeful headlines and wangcentric Tumblrs with a Zaprudian commitment to tracing the story's contours. But Hamm, the cover subject of this month's Rolling Stone, is now expressing disgust over the fascination with the unauthorized release of his trouser-leviathan:

We're now waist-deep in awards season, and the Grantland staff would like to take this opportunity to remind all the Oscar, Grammy, and Golden Collar nominees out there that should they have to step up to that podium and take that mic on national television, they owe it to themselves to study up beforehand and see how the pros handle it. Here are our favorite awards show acceptance (and unacceptance) speeches from all corners of the entertainment world.

Early this morning, in a solemn ceremony during which tragically obsoleted sexy-person Bradley Cooper was relieved of his crown, smeared with hot tar, handed a garbage bag full of grocery-store-quality hair product, and left for dead in the Nevada desert, Channing Tatum was named People's newest Sexiest Man Alive. Considering a breakout year capped by his panty-atomizing stripper shenanigans in Magic Mike, Tatum's coronation was an easy — and dare we say uninspired — choice for the magazine's blue-ribbon panel of hunk-evaluators; one imagines the usually combative Selexxxion Sunday debate began with "Let's watch the 'My Pony' scene again" and ended with an intern ladling smelling salts from a bucket.

It all seems so easy, in fact, that we just couldn't let it go. There's another solution to the Sexiest Man Alive riddle, one far more challenging, but no less deserving, of the supermarket checkout rack's highest honor. And so we picked up the phone to get the reaction of this year's most upsetting snubee: Michael Fassbender's penis. Our conversation follows.

We know, we know. We've been tracking promotional Prometheus material — the viral videos, the various trailers, the top-secret Happy Meal toys* — like the artificial life of Michael Fassbender's enormous robo-penis depended on it. (There, we got that out of the way early. We can all relax knowing the obligatory dick joke has been dispensed with.) But indulge us once again as we proceed once more unto the space breach with the premiere of the Most Important Movie of the Summer (Non-Superhero Division) less than two weeks away. A little while ago, we looked at the clip that introduced us to Fassbender's David, an android that can approximate, if not actually feel, human emotions. Now they've deployed a "Making Of" featurette on the ship Prometheus itself, ostensibly important enough a part of this not-quite-Aliens-prequel universe that the whole movie is named for it, and it's worth the two minutes if you are as unapologetically in the tank for this movie as we seem to be. Think of it as an advance DVD extra. (Wait, did they just invent the "advance DVD extra"? They are really going next-level on this campaign.)

Fox has confirmed that Prometheus will carry an R rating from the MPAA, a huge relief to anyone afraid that the studio might compromise the film's artistic integrity in pursuit of the box office-friendlier PG-13. Anticipating the news, last night Prometheus co-screenwriter Damon Lindelof took to Twitter to immediately address the throbbingly insistent question hanging over the production like a fleshy, engorged Sword of Dongocles: How will this impact Michael Fassbender's enormous penis? But Lindelof's tweet is nothing more than a cagey dodge, shaming the curious for their innocent interest while prompting more questions: Freed from the limitations of the PG-13, will they in fact increase the presence of Fassbender's space-suit-straining robo-junk? And what does "deliver on more Fassbender dong" actually mean?

Before we get to the inevitable joke about Michael Fassbender's penis (and yes, that's going to happen; we really have no choice in the matter), let's all marvel at how well-executed and effective Fox's campaign for Prometheus has been so far after we take in this latest viral offering about "David," a robot virtually indistinguishable from a human, right down to the tears rolling down his artificial cheekbones. It's been flawless.

Hollywood just can't stop talking about Michael Fassbender's enormous penis! One might have imagined that the dong-sizzle might have cooled on the industry's most raved-about trouser-steak once Li'l Mike (you know, it's one of those ironic nicknames, like when your new, 300-pound cellmate tells you everyone calls him "Tiny," haha) was memorably snubbed for an Oscar nomination, even after George Clooney went out of his way to praise the short game of Fassbender's Titleist-quality manhood at the Golden Globes. But this weekend Prometheus costar Charlize Theron jump-started the junk-buzz at a Human Rights Campaign gala by praising the actor's artfully restrained work in Shame, according to E!'s Marc Malkin:

Hollywood is never so cruelly fickle as it is during awards season, delighting in watching its galloping Oscar horses chomp the air in futility as they yank the golden carrot out of reach just as the race grows most intense. Consider the plight of Shame's Michael Fassbender: Arguably no one had more momentum going into the home stretch, having piled up more precursor awards than even perennial Academy lust-object George Clooney, and yet Fassbender was not awakened by the five a.m. call from his publicist on Nominations Tuesday.