I guess because I go on rants about how nobody has the right to complain about anything that happens at obviously disgusting and shoddy fast food restaurants. Some smart ass sent in an email about this drive-thru operator at Taco Bell who was directing female patrons out of the drive-thru line so he could deliver food to their cars and grab a feel of their tits. Okay, so, that you should not expect at a Taco Bell. That some guy is licking your taco shells pre-serving and some other guy probably dropped a deuce in your beans, no right to bitch or sue. Being sexually assaulted by your drive-thru operator. Completely out of bounds. I’m not exactly sure how you punish a guy who is already a Taco Bell drive-thru operator. I guess you could just kick him forcefully in the nuts and make him keep working there.
Soon-to-be talk show host and woman who would burn an entire orphanage to the ground for attention, Kris Jenner, was on The View yesterday to discuss, among other crap, how her cash cow daughter, Kim Kardashian, just named her newborn baby North West. Kris claimed that Kim and Kanye West picked that name because north means “highest power” and this is the “highest point” of their relationship. At the very least, this is great because it means the beginning of the end.
But even better was Kris acting like the name isn’t stupid because, “You don’t walk around calling somebody, ‘Hi North West!’” Yes you most certainly do. When someone has a stupid name like that, you say it repeatedly, every day of every week until she eventually tries to murder her parents. Not that I’ve thought about it.
The entire Clinton sex scandal could’ve been bypassed if Clinton had just nailed a good looking woman. You cigar bang a then 20-something Angelina Jolie or maybe a Cameron Diaz and outside of a few whack jobs, every dude in the world is thinking, yeah, I know, me too. Hall pass. But he didn’t. He played kinky bedroom games with a chubby intern who was President of her soap opera fan club. That thong-snapping roly-poly was so damn irresistible, her former high school teacher was mounting her too around the same time. That’s fucking romantic. When the sex police came after Clinton, they grabbed up a whole bunch of shit Lewinsky had gifted to her high school teacher and his unwitting wife. Now the wife is selling all the confiscated evidence. Including Monica’s negligee. Which somebody is going to pay tens of thousands of dollars to possess. Probably Clinton himself. Slowly draw on one last whiff of his chubby play buddy. He really should’ve plowed somebody hot.
I’m told by imaginary voices that Deena Cortese is one of the girls from MTV’s already forgotten reality series, The Jersey Shore, but she’s not the short one that is slowly withering away like she just looked at the Ark, nor is she the one with the gigantic breasts that look like they were created by the Mayans to store winter harvests. So which one of Deena? The world may never know.
But thanks to her Twitter feed, we at least know that she has breasts and a partially-covered vagina. She could have the face of Heaven’s most beautiful angel or it could be the front end of a Lincoln Navigator. Either way, I’m really proud of her today for sticking with what matters the most.
Don West, attorney for the world’s most notorious self-appointed neighborhood watchman, George Zimmerman, opened arguments in his clients defense with a knock-knock joke for the jury.
Knock knock. Who’s there? George Zimmerman. George Zimmerman who? Okay, good. You’re on the jury.
The jurors looked back at West with a blank stare. He later apologized. Great start, Perry Mason.
West is probably wishing he had gone with his first choice opener, ‘I just want to remind everybody here that the man my client killed was black.’ In Florida, nobody’s getting your knock knock joke. But now there’s a good chance at least one person on the jury thinks your client deserves a medal.
You know how divorce makes kids choose sides between their parents. I mean in the real world. Not the TV world where divorced parents are both wacky lovable adults who bicker but ultimately come together in a circle of good feelings around their kids. In the real world, divorced couples hate the fuck out of each other, forcing their kids to choose sides. Miley Cyrus clearly chose her mom. She’s been trash talking her dad both subtly and openly since her parents separated. Now, she’s just plain threatening to expose some shit about him on Twitter. I have no clue what she could be alluding to…oh, wait, she included a photo.
It’s some redheaded chick Billy Ray worked with in a stage show a couple years back. Hm, I’m still not getting this. Ultimatum. Dad. Tell the truth. Pic of random reasonably attractive woman who he worked nights with while still married to mom. Nope. I got nothing.
Miley pulled this Tweet not long after posting and followed up with one of those Tweets where you claim somebody hacked into your Twitter account as an excuse. Yeah, somebody hacked into your Twitter account and they just happened also to be pissed at your recently divorced dad for cheating on your mom. Wait. Cheating! That’s it! I figured it out!
I remember the day I up and decided I was leaving home. My parents, friends, the whole neighborhood. They all said I’d never make it out on my own. Since I was 27, this was pretty fucking sad. But the point is. I did make it. And without having to do ‘anal on the streets’, like my Uncle Zol had predicted. It’s scary leaving familiar settings. Forging your own path. I was kind of like Miranda Kerr leaving Victoria’s Secret. Only she left with fifteen million in her pocket and a contract to make even more elsewhere. So nothing at all like Miranda Kerr. Or like any guy who will ever sleep with Miranda Kerr. More like a moderately to low-moderately successful tie salesman. Which was a far worse outcome than doing anal on the streets.
Here’s Miranda Kerr in Edit magazine. She’s not a bad looking woman.
Photo Credit: Edit Magazine