Kim Kardashian’s claim that she has sex with Kanye five hundred times a day seems exaggerated. It’s probably closer to fifty and only some of that is Kanye. That’s entire reason for the bakery Turn-O-Matic tickets at the entrance to Kim’s fuck cave. Plausible deniability. Also to stop vehicles from ramming.
Kim’s revelation comes in the latest promo for her sister-whores program which officially surpasses the nine year Iraq War as the longest pointless engagement in our nation’s history. Khloe makes a face like somebody stole her last four pastrami sandwiches and Kris tries to pretend she can voluntarily twitch her facial muscles. Not watching is not an option. Kim and Kanye just fucked seventeen times in the two minutes it took you to read this. This is what it’s like when doves cry.
Puffy faced former WWE star Chyna posted a video of herself twerking while high on muscle relaxers as another cry for help. Chyna’s Twitter account is a running exercise in morbid exhibitionism. Mundane video blogs about tampons and strung out musings on birch bark to be used as cutaways on a Real Sports segment about how fucked up pro wrestlers are. Keep it in the can, we’ll run out of shit one of these days. Back Door to Chyna set the bar at sad. If that didn’t inspire an intervention then your friends either don’t like you or are just too fucked up to move. Save it for Dr Phil but I’m not buying your book. Your socks are dirty.
Award winning porn actress Tory Lane got arrested on a fight from Atlanta to LAX for going full berserker. No doubt this will be explained as a bad reaction to Ambien similar to Paris Hilton’s little brother, Dipshit Hilton, punching a flight attendant and calling everybody in economy class ‘fucking peasants’. Lane was out of her mind screaming and kicking fellow passengers, so not much different than the typical kids on the flight, only unlike those crying babies, she’s actually contributed something positive to the world.
The flight crew finally restrained Lane to her seat. Cops came on board after the flight arrived in Los Angeles and Lane punched several of them as well. That’s the kind of commitment only a woman who’s taken a thousand cocks in her ass truly can. The authorities took Tory Lane to bad girl jail where she is no doubt sucking a ponytailed guard’s dick through the bars while a chick in for shoplifting is fingering Lane’s distended starfish stomach like labia. You can’t actually punish porn stars.
Golden Tate is still denying the rumor he banged Russell Wilson’s wife which led him to be traded from the Seahawks long after anyone has given a shit. Tate was in Beverly Hills with his girlfriend and two Russian chicks with giant tits having a low key night out. When asked about it by one of TMZ’s paint huffing cameramen Tate put the blame on Wilson for not squashing the rumors:
“It’s sad that he’s letting it go on.”
Maybe he has more important things going on than to hold a press conference over something only you still talk about. Maybe, being a good Christian, he knows you banged his wife, he doesn’t want to lie, and he’s happily divorced her and moved on. It should be noted Wilson’s ex-wife is supposedly best friends with Tate’s current girlfriend who is hamming it up for camera shine. So he’s denying a rumor he fucked another chick in front of his girlfriend, and throwing another dude under the bus. If this shit really went down he’s the worst person ever. I would have done the exact same thing.
There seem to be more and more sex offenders getting busted. I’ll just assume they’re not as clever as they used to be. Stephen Collins confessing on tape how he liked to flash his dingle to young girls in the neighborhood. Rookie move. Your old school scout masters and pageant judges used to keep stable marriages and built bird feeders in the garage to cover their need for paneled vans. Aleksander Robin Tomaszewski was snatched up by Oregon police in connection to a sex abuse crime. He got the bright idea that Lady Justice might let him go if he was a victim of police brutality. I’m going to long shot guess he saw that somewhere on television. He took it upon himself to pound his own face in the holding cell about three dozen times then swear out a statement he was roughed up by the interviewing detectives.
Here’s the thing. First, you don’t get a Get Out of Jail Card for sex abuse because you got roughed up by cops. Second, when cops rough you up, they don’t slap you with forty light jabs and they don’t beat your face black and blue because they’re not stupid. Finally and most importantly, video camera. I could almost applaud the Jesus like effort to take one for the team if the team wasn’t comprised of one dude trying to skate on sex crimes. Punch harder next time. It’ll warm you up for what comes next.
One hit stoner-rapper wonder Afroman bravely sucker punched a drunk woman who had wandered up on stage at a show in Biloxi. The video shows Afroman grooving on his guitar, oblivious to the drunken Mardi Gras enthusiast trying to dance up on his booty. She grazes his ass and he instinctively turns around and knocks her the fuck out. It sure looks like he’s been waiting his entire life for an excuse to punch the next person who so much as touched him. Man, woman, or child.
The fact is, you have to defend your stage. God knows when you’ll get another booking. You’re never more vulnerable than when you’re playing an instrument you’re barely proficient in to a small crowd of people paying two-bucks per plastic cup of beer. If a moth buzzes your ear you’re liable to kick out the amps and go grind up Adderall in the alley. Afroman was booked into a Mississippi jail for assault and posted a $330 dollar bond, which constitutes several thousand American dollars. I think this was a misunderstanding. The guy was probably high, plus nervous about his thrice yearly live gig. At that point it’s on you. And your boyfriend who took you to see Afroman in Mississippi for Valentine’s.
The entire point of a celebrity roast is to see who can get liquored up and deliver the most outlandish slams on their fellow drinking buddies. It’s a universally understood concept by any man who’s ever drank too much with friends. It’s how men bond. And occasionally some cool women who you might want to get with after you’re too drunk to do anything about it. Sometimes the roast is funny, sometimes it sucks, but that’s the constant.
Justin Bieber doesn’t have witty cool friends and nobody wants to drink with him. He’s not the regular guy in the Miller commercial you identify with, he’s the dick drinking the pretentious cocktail. Comedy Central is roasting Justin Bieber because he’s famous and will draw a shitload of teen viewers who don’t even understand the goof. Also, he’s perfected the ‘c’mon, guys’ face for the people he’s never met who will be roasting him. We accept that Katy Perry comes out in a girdle with sharks at halftime to sing her hits. When the NFL insists she play QB for the team in the lead to promote fairness, that’s when we look for anything else sports on TV. Not that a Comedy Central Roast stands for much, but I suppose it stood for something. Now that something is gone. I’m starting to understand why old people are ready to pull the plug.
We all know that guy who does a ton of gay shit and laughs it off as a joke. A good deal of his late night social repertoire are bits where he shows you his junk then laughs like Bluebeard. Do you dare me to put this hot pepperoni slice on my nuts? Hahahahaha…let’s watch porn together. Dwight Howard pulled a real humdinger when he walked right up and grabbed teammate Isaiah Canaan’s package on the bench during a game. It’s possible Howard’s just a primal bully and was deciding last minute between a cock grab and a spiked club bludgeon to the head. In that case, way to ratchet down the violence. Or it’s possible he’s letting Canaan know that he’s got some Chablis on ice back at his crib and enough model hooker pussy to provide excellent cover. Life gets more complicated when the team captain grabs your dick.
Afton Elaine Burton, the chick who is engaged to marry Charles Manson, was apparently just using the convicted murderer so she could profit from publicly displaying his corpse in a glass crypt once he dies. Manson thinks he’s immortal so he never considered this illicit motive. On the scale of super powers I’d put being immortal way above being able to break out of a shabby prison. Sounds like he might be full of shit. Also, if you’re immortal getting married is an awful idea for prenuptial reasons. It’s ironic a dude who brainwashed chicks into killing people is now being played as a fool. The difference: he was getting more pussy than Frank Sinatra during the dog days of acid. Now’s he’s lucky to get a hand job under a fold out table by the vending machine. What goes around comes around bitch.
Burton, also known as Star since she’s unoriginal, kind of claims the marriage is still on but who gives a shit. I wouldn’t drive more than two hours to see Charles Manson’s body encrypted behind glass at a truck stop. Ok maybe three. Definitely not more than two states.
It’s important to realize Pete Carroll would be lying in a shallow grave right now if the U.S. were any of the seventeen assorted South American dictatorships. After staying inside for four days and wondering why he just ordered the salmon pizza for delivery, why he put his hand on his buddy’s wife’s knee that one time, and why the fuck he called a passing play down the middle on the two inch line, he decided to show his face and talk to Matt Lauer. He was mostly apologetic:
“It’s been a whirlwind… I feel responsible for a lot of people right now… Within the instant of the turnover, the gravity of what just happened, I understood.”
Then Lauer asked him the rhetorical question of whether that was the worst play call in the history of the world. After thinking about his yellow PT Cruiser, his Sega stockholdings, and the metal detector he bought for the beach, Carroll ultimately bucked responsibility:
“It was the worst result of a call ever. The call would have been a great one if we’d caught it. It would have been just fine and nobody would have thought twice about it.”
The same way having thirty beers and driving home is a great idea if you aren’t arrested or don’t kill anyone. You wake up the next day saucer eyed wondering what you’ve done. Then you promise yourself not to do it again. That’s the lesson dickhead. Let Beast Mode drive you.
Ashley Graham is out to prove a point. Really hot chunky chicks with big ole fun titties are people too. The message is directed at the guys you and I have never met who would turn down a gorgeous overweight girl on principle. Ashley’s size fourteen is actually the average size of American women, but based on the average size portions at the Cheesecake factory, you’d know this is hardly a universe where the term average has any qualitative meaning. Ashley’s set to become the first plus sized model to ever appear in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition and she’s using the opportunity to horribly miseducated women:
It doesn’t matter if you’re a size 2 or 22 as long as you’re taking care of your body, working out, and telling yourself, ‘I love you’ instead of taking in the negativity of beauty standards.
Though it kind of matters. If you want to live. Until such time as positive affirmation cures diabetes. Now it’s just a matter of training up the seven-hundred person strong Photoshop department at SI to not go hog wild on airbrushing Ashley’s flab and defeating her raison d’être. Maybe they’l just eliminate her nipples twice.
Randy Quaid and his wife are still exiled in Canada where they fled following vandalism and burglary charges. I think they also sodomized some exotic animals on the way out of town. The U.S. threw their passports in the carbon neutral incinerator. Quaid isn’t ready to admit he loves meth and is still blaming everyone else for his problems in brazenly paranoid and delusional rants. His latest line of logic finds Rupert Murdoch actively plotting to ruin his life and clearly succeeding. He cites Police Media Corruption, a conspiracy ring which spins a wheel and throws darts at random character actors and has them falsely arrested.
In his recent avant garde offering he puts a photo of Rupert Murdoch on his bikini clad wife’s face, bends her over, spits on his hand, rubs it on her ass, and begins humping her repeatedly while a dog howls. This type of behavior can’t help his case against the Police Media Corporation. The images are rather unsettling because it leads you to believe this is the type of thing cabin dwellers have always done, even prior to Youtube. Quaid is apparently drifting in and out of reality and thinks he is somehow responsible for saving the world because the character he played in Independence Day did just that. I can’t remember if he lived or not in that version, but he might want to consider a posthumous medal this go around.
Thanks to the several of you who sent me this video. Receiving porn from other men is less disturbing than in the days of used VHS tapes. Having now witnessed the full thirty minutes of this college student flashing and fingering in the library video, I’ve learned a few things myself.
For instance, OSU student Kendra Sunderland has amazing tits. Also, chicks are stupid and will do pretty much anything a cute boy tells them to do on the other end of FaceTime or Skype. This after ten thousand publicized incidents of girls ruining their lives by getting naked on camera. It’s like stopping teenaged sex itself with stern warnings and film strips. Some behavior nature just owns.
Kendra will look back on being kicked out of Oregon State and whatever fine and probation she gets from her inane public indecency arrest and realize this was the best thing that ever happened to her. If not the best thing, the most profitable thing. The average OSU grad barista does not make what the average blonde porn star with massive tits and a cute face makes. Also, you get some travel.
Here’s some clips I cut of the video. If you want to see the full video including the bare pussy mashing you can visit one of your porn clip sites. I can’t link to them from here or the Russian mob will spay and neuter my dogs and cats. That’s a euphemism.
They don’t fuck around at Texas schools with sensitive solutions to serious problems. When the principal at an elementary school kept finding human kid shit on the floor of his gym, he rounded up all the tykes under his roof, split up the boys and girls to keep biblical, then had them drop their pants for shit stain inspection. Parent outrage ensued. You might think, yeah, fuck, you can’t ask my ten year old to show you his bare ass crack because some troubled kid keeps crapping in the gym. I’ve got two words for you. Patriot Act. The authorities, including school principals and anybody above junior greeter at Walmart, can demand your kids get naked whenever the hell they want. What are they hiding in their underpants? Isn’t that your real concern? Is it Mexican hash? Weapons? Or just fresh treadmarks from dropping a deuce in the multipurpose room. It’s called security. Start dressing your kids in clear plastic bags to make this go faster. That’s not a request.
There’s some kind of quiet dignity in being a colossal dick. An arrogant ass who doesn’t give a fuck about anybody but himself and how he’s feeling from moment to moment. Not those small time punks who piss and moan. I mean one ginormous a-hole who fucks everything he pleases, pisses on his sycophants, and reminds you how he can buy you several times over. Justin Bieber. It wasn’t noble, but it was definitely remarkable.
This Justin Bieber ‘I’ve changed’ nonsense is simply disheartening. It’s like popping in on Bin Laden and he’s tearfully watching Precious. You don’t want to shoot that guy in the head. You want to give him a hug. Bieber’s whispered apology for being an arrogant dick these past eighteen months (he checked his calendar apparently) just makes him pathetic. In the end, you’ve left us with nothing, Justin. Well played, you tatted up miniaturized fuck.
Go Daddy has decided to pull a pretty funny Super Bowl commercial featuring a lost puppy who finds his way back home only to be stuffed into a crate and sold on eBay by an evil puppy mill wench. The ad was intended to mock Budweiser’s ridiculously cheese dick ad about a similar puppy and his Brokeback Mountain style relationship with his owner. PETA sounded off and Go Daddy’s CEO relented because it’s just not fucking worth it with these people:
“What should have been a fun and funny ad clearly missed the mark and we will not air it… because we’re pussies.”
I took some liberty with that very last part. Animal rights activists feel strongly this one hypothetical puppy matters because it’s fluffy and they are experiencing menopause and devoid of reason. But mostly this is the fault of GoDaddy and the weak willed corporate culture that cave to political correctness. They made the fucking commercial and obviously patted themselves on the back for being hilarious rebels of the business world. A few angry social media posts from humorless small dog owners later and ballsy is replaced with whatever the opposite of ballsy is. American corporations used to fund coups in foreign countries. Now they’re backing off Super Bowl ad buys because DreaLUVSCalicos is flaming them on Twitter. Even the Chinese eunuchs are laughing at us now.
In shocking overcompensation for badly mishandling of the Ray Rice situation, the NFL will air this ad during the first quarter of the Super Bowl . It’s part of their No More campaign to stop domestic violence and its biggest enablers, such as the NFL. The spot features a lady who is scared for her life calling 911 and pretending to calmly order a pizza while her abusive partner is in the room. The operator is apparently dumber than all of us because he’s the only one who doesn’t get it. It’s not a bad work of fiction but the league might want viewers to focus on the warning signs before we get into potentially deadly fake Papa John’s call. Does your boyfriend bump Eminem in his Tahoe? Has your fiance ever mentioned in passing that Nicole deserved it? Has your husband ever injected anything into his dick while screaming Tap Out at the flatscreen? By virtue of being the NFL, the NFL has already done more to draw attention to domestic violence than any ad campaign ever could. Let’s focus on getting rid of it. We all know it exists. Just check your rosters.
Norway also has reality shows featuring attractive young adults. Except they don’t drive Bentleys and face emotional challenges coming out to Lance Bass. They shove them into sad, disheartening, morose situations so everybody can feel horribly Scandinavian. Deadly Fashion sent three young Norwegian fashion bloggers to spend a month living side by side with workers in a Cambodian clothing factory that makes trendy ensembles for Gap and other major Western retailers. You might be surprised to learn that life as a garment worker in Cambodia sucks fairly severely. Like, shut up poor people of America who have cars and cable TV and Oscar Meyer deli meats and smokes kind of sucks.
The workers get paid nickels and dimes to sew for endless hours a day and they have nowhere to shit properly and cant’ afford real food to eat, which helps alleviate shitting problem somewhat. Then they shuffle off to their lean-to’s ten per room to rest their weary bones. You don’t work, you don’t eat. Somebody’s grandmother died because she had no food and starved. There’s a side story in their somewhere about really shitty grandkids. The Norwegians cry a lot as they realize how horrible life is and promise never to wear clothes again. Then they go home and slowly but assuredly drink themselves to death. If TV is going to suck, it should suck like this.
The chick whose tits are made of waterbeds got liquored up and made me fall in love with her again. She says she actually eats at Carl’s Jr. but I’m willing to believe she’s a sexy liar. Whatever works. I’m not paying attention just turn the fan on. To be beautiful and mildly retarded must be fantastic. I’ve only experienced half of it but it’s not terrible. That All Natural burger sounds pretty good. God I would take her ass to Wendy’s. Read to your kids.
A sports commentator asked female tennis star Eugenie Bouchard to take a twirl and show off her tennis outfit after her match win at the Australian Open. I was slack jaw waiting for the bobbies to arrive on kangaroos and beat the tar out of the old man with the mic. She’s a professional athlete. Just because she has tits doesn’t make her a fashion model. Although, she is a professional fashion model who has a sweet new deal with IMG Models Worldwide. Still, you had no consent for a twirl. Why not just ask her to suck your dick and make you a sandwich, you fucking caveman.
The makers of Fleshlight thought it would be a good idea to find some random Czech porn chick and claim their product is an exact replica of her vagina. If it’s actually true, your company is stupid, an ugly dock whore would have done it for half. Pussy is pussy. Guys who say this are usually losers, except in the case when there’s no face or body attached. Then it’s a definite. This video chronicles the vag model, Eufrat Jai, and her trip to the Spanish factory where her Fleshlights are made as if it were Ted Williams posthumously walking into Cooperstown. She says the following:
“My father told me that women has special present from God, and with our vagina, we can be star.”
Before this gets any creepier I should explain it’s European. The following happens: The manager of the Fleshlight factory tells her he personally uses the assembly line version of her vagina. Then he lubes up the replica and fingers it in front of her. The employees of the factory are forced to pretend they are super psyched to see her in the flesh at the clear risk of being sent back to the olive brining caves. She appears believe this whole orchestration. After listening to this chick speak I’m not sure if I’d rather fuck the real thing or the polymer. Did they pour plaster into her cavities? That’s not a selling point. I’m pretty sure the Fleshlight is STD free. Although that manager is giving me pause. Fuck it. I’ll just beat off normally like a real man.
Tiger Woods went to watch Lindsey Vonn ski while rocking a creepy skull printed face mask and missing his front tooth. People noticed, because it’s pretty weird and it’s Tiger Woods and he’s fucking Lindsay Vonn. Woods’ agent released a bullshit sounding statement saying the tooth was knocked out by a news camera as he was being crowded by reporters in a tent. If you’re going to slander a certain group, you might to go for the people who don’t report on things professionally and can easily vet your story. Nicola Colli, the organizer of the event, said this:
“I was among those who escorted him from the tent to the snowmobile and there was no such incident.”
He sounds pretty confident. It’s unclear what actually happened, but most dudes don’t like it when they catch Tiger Woods balls deep in their girlfriend after her swing shift at Outback. Woods’ teeth have always looked like they were purchased at a boutique in SoHo and don’t look particularly human. I’m sure he can order a replacement online if he’s not distracted by his bookmarked torture porn while logging on. Woods out.
Greg Plitt, fitness guru and star of Bravo’s short lived series Work Out, was killed by a train he was running in front of when he tripped and fell and the train ran over him. In case you’re not familiar with the laws of physics, you do not want to get run over by a train. Even a model toy train is liable to cause light damage. Plitt often filmed workout scenes at the railroad yard because he loved gritty tough guy stuff and also because it’s free if nobody catches you. At the time of his death Plitt was attempting to outrun the train as it travelled behind him. I’ve you’ve never seen the footing on railroad track it could be described as somewhere between iffy and you gonna die. In contrast, treadmills are pretty safe Should you ever find yourself cranking weights in an industrial yard, you’re going the wrong way.
By way of worthy epilogue: Greg Pitt was a former distinguished Army Ranger and West Point grad. Neither a coward or a dummy, though admittedly not the wisest guy when it came to train stunts.
Here’s a summary of the producers room for Christina Milian’s E! reality show. Ten hours of silence, followed by some dude in a porkpie hat yelling out, ‘She could get her nipple pierced’. Show one, done. Show two, we accidentally inject Christina with the puss filled urine of a chlamydia patient then film her anxiously waiting by the phone to see if her doctor’s going to let her work the exotic car show in Temecula. Show three, series canceled. Reality television exists only by the same rule that says zombies can’t eat other zombies. It’s an artificial construct so we can have three times the television necessary. There’s no shame in getting paid for your tits, but at some point you ought consider stopping short of mutilation. In my day, you had to travel to Bangkok for that show.