Charlie Sheen thought it was weird that Obama has time to go on ESPN and fill out his March Madness bracket because it is. Best case scenario Obama is full of shit and acting over confident. God forbid he actually knows what he’s talking about and watches a lot of college basketball as the world nears an end game. Sheen took the opportunity to get political because he reads a lot of things that appear in his mind:
“Barry Satera Kenya u won’t attend a soldier’s funeral uhkros da street that u kild yet u hav time 4 brackets? s a d.”
If you don’t speak crackhead the reference is aimed at the repeatedly debunked theory that the White House did not send a representative to attend the funeral of a young man who was killed in Iraq. Sheen also believes 9/11 was an inside job and just about everything else coke heads talk about in the bathroom. I feel his pain but real policy wonks aren’t up at 2 am watching SportsCenter. That’s how you tell the men from the boys. Kentucky to win. Iran takes us on nuclear talks. Call it a wash.
Two drunken Secret Service agents recently crashed their car into a bomb after they were partying in Chinatown like in the movies. Instead of being breathalyzed they were told to sober up and go home like you would want a cop to encourage you to do after they finished pepper spraying your face. Buzzed Driving Is Drunk Driving. What’s the fucking difference then let’s do some shots. The Secret Service has now destroyed the footage of the crash although it should pop up on a minor league baseball blooper reel later this month. It’s unclear why the Service would choose to destroy evidence of an active investigation but these colors run deep. One minute they’re at your bachelor party laying in a pool of their own vomit while on the clock. The next they’re doing the same thing at your apartment. Maybe these guys have a problem. Goodnight, Saigon.
If you had a legitimate band and one of the members left you’d start freaking out. If you’re a gaggle of twinks who move their lips on cue it’s not that big of a deal. Hence, Zayn Malik of One Direction is leaving the group’s World Tour due to stress. They will carry on without him because they already sold the tickets. Touring is supposed to be stressful but you deal with it by banging sluts and overdosing. One Direction sips chamomile while they look at their phones. Nice wardrobe, did you do it yourself? One Direction doesn’t play instruments or sing so it’s highly possible Malik will be replaced with whoever does the local car dealership commercials in the town they’re in. Yes, you still get your checks but you just ruined a chick’s first period story.
Justin Bieber is being sued by the neighbor whose house he egged. It is unclear if Bieber indeed spit on the guy or if Bieber’s bodyguard hurled anti-Semitic insults at him and his little daughter as the lawsuit alleges. Either way, this was all supposed to be taken care of by Bieber’s apology to the universe at his roast. The egg-throwing, spitting, insulting Bieber was yesterday, or maybe a few days ago depending on tape delays. In the meantime, if you don’t want to deal with future Inside Edition correspondents and motley crews of drag racing junior rappers, move to the fucking suburbs. Oh right you’re in Calabasas. Better hit Costco and buy a standalone bunker. These shit for brains aren’t going anywhere soon. Sorry about your rug.
Some fame whore on New Zealand’s less classless version of The Bachelor farted really loud on camera. I’d like to think in America she’d be banished from the set along with her gift basket being confiscated. The United States has traditionally been an inspiration to the rest of the world. A shining beacon of light for those huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Nowadays we give them a syndicated show where a gay guy courts strippers who rip ass in prime time. Why was this not edited out? Everyone always talks about how beautiful New Zealand is and how you Have to Go. If this is what they’re doing with their time they can fuck themselves. We have forests and cliffs too. Let me Google it. I blame Peter Jackson. Fucking hobbits.
It’s a shame what Uma Thurman did to her face. I’m sure it says something about sexism and ageism in Hollywood, but for the time being we should probably just focus on outing the name of her plastic surgeon.
There was a time when you could trust a porn star. Leave your wallet on her table by accident and come back and your $43 was still in there, along with a Post-It loaded with kitty cat heart shaped snuggles. Now it’s impossible to know which sex worker to trust. It’s likely that the OSU girl caught frigging herself in the library on Facetime wasn’t as caught as she seemed. She may have been staged. Or, perhaps she was just a real coed with bj videos online and sex toys for sale molded from her anus. That’s true of many Lit majors these days. Occupy Wall Street didn’t payoff like so many unemployed college grads expected.
This is 2015. Women don’t need a man. But maybe you ought to think about keeping yours. Hilary Duff dumped her retired NHL husband because he wasn’t perfect, then took him back, then filed for divorce because he went out and partied all night with his buddies. Then she dyed her hair blue and started doing baby mermaid talk on Instagram. Map that progress, it’s not an up arrow.
There’s nothing wrong with divorce, though maybe you want to think about how many you’re up for before the age of thirty. The real problem is marriage. There’s certain people who should never get married. Like people with better options of any kind. Throughout human history, marriage was a business arrangement. Then, for a brief time period, it was about the indescribable feeling of love. Statistically, that fared pretty rotten. Now it’s merely a game of who will back down first. Here’s an idea, the next time somebody says let’s get married, you say, nah. The sex will get less frequent but you’ll be thankful you never had to dye your hair blue and pretend you weren’t miserable.