Robin Thicke’s newest album may have sold zero copies in Australia its opening week. I’m told by industry experts this is not a strong number. The relatively poor sales could be related to the fact that everybody is sick to shit of Robin Thicke. Men used to admire Thicke like men of a previous generation admired Deney Terrio. He just seemed so cool in his tight slacks if you could put aside the nagging feeling that you just might be super fucking gay. But this incessant whining to his wife to take him back just decimated any and all Thicke man crushes. Men simply can’t watch one another cower before their wives. We all know it’s going on in private, but to see it in the public square — you can’t look away fast enough.
The ladies are dropping Thicke as well. As much as they all imagined him unbuttoning his vest and making sweet tender love to their weeping vaginas, they had deeper affection for his love story with his childhood sweetheart. They will never forgive his banging the masseuse infractions. He betrayed women on every continent, and apparently Australia as well.
Without Thicke able to tactically deploy the hot dancing naked women, he’s dead in the water. Once Marvin Gaye’s family put all of Marvin’s old records in a lockbox and buried them deep beneath an alligator infested swamp, Thicke’s career was pretty much dead. This nonstop submissive tour is just the nail in the coffin. We had a good run though, didn’t we, Robin?
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