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.
Kristen Stewart has lost her pizzazz. She used to be that horribly disdainful self-loathing chick who blew the lost boys and ruined other people’s lives. Those wretched angry fucks are unbelievable fodder. Now she’s just another brooding lesbian chick wondering when the ball peen hammers go on sale again at OSH. Boring. They had to use the cartoon effect on her in this magazine just so you’d take a quick glance before you visually bounced. Before you’d stare at her a good five minutes wondering if she was pretty enough that you’d let her rub out her cigarette on your neck in exchange for a hummer. Now, she’s a horn-less unicorn. I think that’s just a horse. Where have all the bad women gone.
James Robertson, the Detroit area guy who walks 21 miles a day round trip to his factory job, has had to move out of his boarding house and into protected seclusion because too many people are trying to bum money off him/kill him. People get offed and dissolved in lye in Detroit when they win a free Big Mac in a scratch off promo. After Robertson’s story went viral he has received $350,000 in donations made to a GoFundMe site which was set up for him. He also got a brand new Ford Taurus which I think is worth another thousand on trade-in at the better car store.
I am a bit suspicious of Robertson although I admire his dedication. For me the tide turned when I found out he drinks at least a two liter of Mountain Dew every day. That seems like the shitty judgement of someone who would take a low paying job ten miles from their house. Now that Robertson has reliable wheels he should heed my advice and get out of Detroit before the zombies come out of the wreckage. Get on the interstate westbound and don’t stop until you smell saltwater. I’ll overlook the Dew if you can do this one thing for me. Don’t let me down. The gas is on the right. To freedom!
Terrence Howard has been hit with a slough of threats via Instagram and the LAPD is investigating his ex-wife, Michelle Ghent. Howard is well known for punching women who offend him in any way or even disturb his gate. He is pretty sure Ghent is behind the threats because he probably knows he deserves them. She has previously alleged that he beat her while they were married. Better get back at him by making sure he doesn’t feel safe in his own home and develops a panic disorder. Some of these are pretty chilling:
“I’m watching you! I’m coming for… Lol … you two won’t live to see your children.”
If you can’t extract enough money in divorce proceedings then bleed his ass dry with private security costs. Less money for the whores. When you can’t stand toe to toe and trade punches you have to fight dirty. Lions and tigers can roam the jungle as they please. If you’re a possum with a limp you have to get creative. Howard must be taking these threats seriously. The further this is investigated the more people will want to kill him. It’s a nasty rabbit hole. Bottom line Howard’s a bad dude who probably married an awful woman. They could have made it work.
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.
Warren Sapp’s haggling with hookers cost him his job on the NFL Network and now a series of endorsement deals, the latest being Zyppah, a piece of rubber with a hole in it that you wedge into your mouth at night to keep you from snoring. Rest assured this product is bullshit because if it worked snoring wouldn’t exist. I’m not an expert but putting an oblong and obtrusive object in your mouth can’t be good for your airways or sex life. What happened to personal freedom? A dude can’t get sucked off in a Radisson anymore without his car being repoed. That’s not what this country was founded on. In fact loose women were a part of our delicate framework. Now Zyppah will have to find another fat dude with zero integrity and a clean record. Artie Lange is off the list. As is most any guy with any self worth. Get Rebel Wilson’s people on the phone stat. People are snoring again.
Self-proclaimed virgin Lolo Jones doesn’t want you to see Fifty Shades of Grey because she doesn’t approve of the sex she’s never had. She’s likely projecting her circumstances unto the rest of society like your dumb teenage nephew in the Slipknot shirt you ignore at the barbecues:
“Funny how some people think there’s nothing wrong with 50 shades of Grey. God didn’t create sex for that purpose… Watch another movie… Some ppl medicate pain by being more and more physical to where if they are ever alone they can’t feel any peace.”
Being more physical like training for the Olympics ten hours a day for eight years? I’d take a dick over that scenario. It sounds like you could benefit from a good rodgering more than just about any other person on earth. Fuck it do thirty more push ups. Just make the tingling stop. I’m not sure why God created sex, but it seems like he wants you to do it. Even Jones herself can attest to this:
“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Harder than training for the Olympics, harder than graduating from college has been staying a virgin before marriage.”
The proof is in the pudding. You’re 32 years old. At the very least just trick God and marry a Chippendale for the night in Vegas. If you’re the guy who finally gets in there hire a body guard immediately and move to a state with strict gun control laws. This chick is almost certain to ritually sacrifice the man who finally takes her cherry.
That looks a lot like Derek Jeter and Nicki Minaj’s nipple. Two things that could use a good humility punch in the areola. I wasn’t really sure how short and unnecessary Nicki Minaj was until I saw her standing next to a professional athlete. She wouldn’t be all that hard to pack in a crate and load onto a cargo ship for Paraguay. It’s landlocked, so the last few miles might be bumpy. She’ll probably freestyle a few sweet beats about the journey. We’ll find them scratched onto her ankle when we open up the crate and start pointing fingers over who forgot to drill the air holes.