By Lex September 12, 2014 @ 4:32 PM
An indictment came down today for Adrian Peterson for punishing his four year old kid with a switch last May. That’s a thin tree branch for you people who live in big cities and didn’t get whooped proper as a child. It’s a long standing parenting tradition for especially blacks in the South to make their kids grab the instrument of their own punishment off of a tree for a few painful lashes. You can go anywhere from mild stings to a full Roman lashing on somebody with a switch. When the kid is four and his skin is lacerated around his Underoos and you send him back to his mama she might just take him to see a doctor who might just report you to the police. What flies in Texas doesn’t always fly in Minnesota.
Adrian Peterson has between five and seven kids by between three and seventeen women. I’ve done the math too, I think it works out. He had a child he didn’t even know was his until abused to death by the boyfriend of one of his baby mamas. Maybe when one of your multitude of hapless innocent bastards visits you for a get to learn daddy’s name trip you don’t give him the full Kunta Kinte for knocking another one of your brood off the video game console. Even if you agree with corporal punishment, which I kind of do, you can’t do this kind of blood letting in 2014 any more than you can punch your wife in an elevator for sassing you.
Before sending the kid back home with his fresh daddy bruises, Peterson texted his baby mama:
“You will be mad at me about his leg. He got about five more pops than normal. He didn’t drop one tear! … He’s tough as nails.”
Fucking wonderful. What happened to the good old days when NFL players just assaulted and murdered other grown men. Goodell, get on this shit.
By Lex September 12, 2014 @ 1:59 PM
You have but a few options when you’re booted from the British Celebrity Big Brother House. Nobody has yet chosen death by self-immolation on the London Bridge. That would be an amazing act of carbon neutrality. Your other choice is to crawl into the woods in a bikini that hasn’t fit you since 1997 and pretend having sex with Gary Busey for two years didn’t gnaw away the good parts of your soul.
Angelique Morgan became famous to about eleven people when she appeared on a bunch of those VH-1 Rock of Love shows, spinoffs, and secondary dingleberries that proved difficult to remove with just a glancing wipe. Enough to get her into the Celebrity Big Brother house where she was reunited with Gary Busey who had no idea who the hell she was since both his short term and long term memory ranges intersect at about three minutes. If I were Angelique, I’d keep crawling.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI
By Jack September 12, 2014 @ 1:37 PM
In its infinite wisdom to cover its ass over fucking up the Ray Rice debacle, the NFL pulled a Rihanna song from its Thursday night football coverage so people wouldn’t think about Rihanna being punched in the face by Chris Brown. They also banned Tina Turner songs and any Michael Jackson songs created after his childhood beatings but before his molestations of other kids.
Read all about the NFL trying to cover its ass. (The Superficial)
John Mayer is trying to plow Jennifer Lawrence. (Dlisted)
Shia LeBeouf has pleaded guilty to disorderly conduct and being a dick. (Huffington Post)
How can Sofia Vergara even work out with those huge titties flopping around? (Popoholic)
Have you missed beating prostitutes? Here is the trailer for the new Grand Theft Auto. (COED)
Scout and Rumer Willis finally naked together as sisters should be. (Drunken Stepfather)
Julianne Hough has tits and her cleavage looks amazing. (Hollywood Tuna)
By Lex September 12, 2014 @ 12:46 PM
Here’s another Brazilian girl pouring a hose down her shnizzle. I can tell you from experience that will not cure your crabs, it only makes them angry. I no longer Internet search random foreign models on the off chance they wind up the focus of a murder investigation and Google hands over search records to build a list of possible candidates. It’s okay with major models. But with these lesser known Brazilian girls where the chance of being found decomposing in an Amazonian estuary is relatively high, you don’t want to be on a list of thirty-seven possible stalkers. My condo association would just love an open murder investigation as the opportunity to finally expel me.
Photo Credit: Vogue Brazil
By Matt September 12, 2014 @ 12:22 PM
Mallory Musallam and her oversized sunglasses issued an apology for suing the Late Show because she was not paid to be an intern, unlike the other interns who got corner offices and foot massages from Paul Schaffer. Musallam says she was assured that several other plaintiffs would be named in the case. It turns out she was the only one who bit. She says this was due to her frustration of being unemployed and not having the fortitude to sell a kidney to the quiet Mandarin couple down the hall. That left her as the only name on the lawsuit, assuring her blacklisting from any reputable television show except a hosting spot on The View. Her apology is a lame attempt to cover her ass as staffers around NYC delete her resume:
“I have nothing but respect for David Letterman and the whole organization. I wore that internship as a badge of pride… I was by no means looking for a trap door out by exploiting your established organization and I cannot apologize enough for this debacle.”
It’s true. You can’t apologize enough. You sued David Letterman. That is a privilege reserved strictly for the women he fools around with on the side. Musallam bit on some stupid class action lawyers promise and now she’s left with only porn set work or being a Congressional aide. Either way, bring some wet wipes.
Photo Credit: Twitter
By Matt September 12, 2014 @ 12:06 PM
Ray Rice has stopped drinking hard liquor after belting his lady unconscious. Rice reportedly still drinks, but just wine, like men of God and the homeless. It’s sacrifices like that which make this country great. If you get caught on camera punching your fiancee and your attempt at damage control is to stop drinking liquor yet continue getting loaded on Carlo Rossi, you might just be getting closer to Jesus. Every drunk has tried some variant of this lesser-proof compromise before rehab. It results in them being just as wasted and more bloated. As any veteran trailer park resident can attest, you can get loaded enough on Busch to beat your dog and your wife. Red wine is a good wife beater drink because it leaves those unsavory stains on your white tank top, which really lets the chick know you mean business. My mother always said that once you get loaded and punch out a lady, you should cool it on the booze for five to sevent months. Of course wine doesn’t count, which makes it a solid option to fill a Double Big Gulp with as you drive to your anger redirection meeting.
Photo Credit: Twitter
By Matt September 12, 2014 @ 11:25 AM
Spotty Page Six evidence suggests Venus Williams is angry with Serena because she has been partying and has friends. They have not been seen together in weeks, neither has mentioned one another on social media, and Serena has regularly skipped their traditional morning rock smashing sessions. Serena has also missed some press appearances because she was hung over after having one Mojito and also sprinting around in the sun for six hours. If Venus is really freezing out her sister for socializing, that’s pretty cold. If you have the discipline to build your body into a He Man worthy vein popping testosterone factory, you’ve earned the right to slam back some whiskey like a real man. Tennis victories become less of a thrill when your trophy case is a football-field sized hangar at JFK and your biceps require you to register with the local authorities as a tranny assassin. Everybody needs their kicks from somewhere. The three homeless men Serena keeps bound inside her kegel clenched vagina is no longer enough. Back off, Venus, or feel the wrath of Serena’s bench press.
Photo Credit: Instagram
By Lex September 12, 2014 @ 11:06 AM
French chicks wear underwear better than anybody else. Maybe it’s the anticipation of an aroma from two wears between washings or just how sexy put-out aloofness is against soft cotton. I’d use only French models if I were hawking my baby fingers crafted shmata to the masses. If they complained, I’d jet them to Qatar and savage them with reeds in the public square. If you’re not thinking ahead to the punishment phase, you don’t deserve to be in the underwear selling business.
Photo Credit: Victoria’s Secret