Pope's Panties
Don't make me hold your hand. If you force me to spell out exactly to whom I'm referring when I report that a source as true and in-the-know as the pope's Sunday panties told me that a certain particular (and blond? Probably...) ex-boy-banding bandito has--in fact!--developed a palate for high-end prostitutes of the penis-having persuasion, well, I'll think you haven't been paying much attention lately, now won't I?
And we certainly don't want that.
Details? I'm not "about" details. I'm a big-picture kind of boy. Much like the big picture starring that hot, feisty little dyke (who very few people actually know is a dyke--including me, of course, and now you) who ("allegedly"! Oh, how I loathe that limp, cowardly term!) tossed a dykey fit when her big-hitting Hollywood costar's manly hands got manhandley on her dyke-a-rific ass, and was begged and cajoled into simmering down lest her outrage damage said big-hitting costar's current political aspirations.
Yes, much like that.
And if you can unravel that, you're either CIA or you have the concentration skills of many autistic Zen monks on Ritalin.
And when "TJ" reported that Leslie Miller was having an alarm installed at Car Toys, I said to myself, "Yeah? But what about her ears? Why are we all so afraid to talk about Leslie's missing fucking ears?"
And I guess there was some dude named Josh on Big Brother 3. From New York. Wore a hat and was kinda hairy and shit? Ring any bells? Would you believe that my inbox is crammed with naked pictures of him and his hairy derrière? Swear on God's gravy. He did a full, nude, and fully nude spread for (no, not Mansquirt, no, not Gerbiling Quarterly, but boring old) Playgirl after the show. And since you're wondering: average. But who's complaining?
And if I told you that Tom Skerritt is suing a company called Body Basics for pasting his face onto someone else's body and slapping it up on billboards advertising erectile dysfunction supplements, I wouldn't have room to mention that Matt Stone (one of the South Park dudes--the curly-haired, Jewish-looking one, I think) was at Cyclops, and made "farting noises" when the bartender bent down to pick up his bar towel. But since I would never, but never, use the word "farting," I'm really at a loss. Silly Jews and their farting noises.
