By Lex September 15, 2014 @ 12:21 PM
I’m pretty sure Serena Williams won the U.S. Open. Not watching tennis is like losing ten pounds, it makes your dick an inch bigger. Serena can military press the combined weight of the next twenty ATP ranked players, so you can just assume she took victory by merit or by stomping her potential opponents to death beneath her sized 22 Adamantium infused tarsals.
The team that builds the superstructure container around Serena that allows her to be road legal got her positioned comfortably in the prone position for a ride down to Florida for a little R&R. There were three 16’9″ overpasses along the way that had to be avoided, otherwise the journey was uneventful. Sometimes I stare at Serena’s unnaturally ginormous haunches and I curse the so-called scientists who created her from powerful muscles shorn from both the human and animal kingdoms. Could they not afford some kind of visual designer in the process? Robocop had more life like limb attachments.
Photo Credit: Splash
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 02, 2014 @ 7:06 AM
I was cool pretending Serena Williams was merely the big-boned sister. Maybe even the unusually strong girl in the Romanian circus. But this power of Greyskull muscle mass is getting out of control. Serena’s rocking the Road Warrior pythons. She and dad and sister can pull all the test results they want out of their ass, something’s amiss. I’d investigate, but you go snooping around the Island of Dr. Moreau, you come back half gnu.
Photo credit: AKM-GSI
By Lex June 02, 2014 @ 4:35 PM
I think it’s great that competitive athletes can be friends off the court. Why can’t you share a laugh and a day at the beach with Serena Williams, before she annihilates you with her Richie Incognito level bench, squat, thrust power numbers. As long as Caroline Wozniacki doesn’t turn around, she might just think she stands a chance.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet, AKM-GSI
By Lex April 18, 2014 @ 5:06 PM
I think it’s great that women feel body positive or whatever term is in vogue in 2014 for women without model frames to hang out mostly naked and drink fruity cocktails and bitch about that whore Nancy at work and feel good about themselves. Why not feel positive about your body. Fuck what other people think. Go to Europe and you’ll see countless mounds of flab and furry naked badger like creatures rolling like barrels around the beaches worshipping the sun like it can somehow heal their hibernating woodland mammal features. You’ll see them rhythmically puffing cigarettes out of one or more of their chunked up orifices, allowing their lack of humility to serve as their one way Eurail ticket to the good life. So take to the beaches in your bikinis, women of all shapes and sizes, non polygons of various vertices and bubbling anatomical insulation. You’re all welcome at my sandy shore. Except for you, Serena, you scare the fuck out of me. You’ve got to go.
Photo Credit: INFphoto.com, Fameflynet
By Lex March 24, 2014 @ 4:32 PM
I’d go to war with Serena Williams. Literally. Give me 300 Serenas and I could take down Persia. That’s Iran today. Maybe Iraq too. I can never remember. Either way, 300 Serena battle droids with laser firing catgut rackets and I’ll topple the shit out of all the turban wearing mustached bad guys. The Serena battle droid knows no fear and will charge the net without apprehension for a volley slam. I’ll lead from behind mostly, because I don’t want to die like Leonidas. Also, I imagine 300 Serenas might smell a little lady gamey as they become heavily engaged in physical activity.
Photo Credit: INFphoto.com, Getty