Sunday, August 10th, 2008
Shocking news folks. John Edwards, the one-time vice presidential hopeful, cheated. And he lied about it. Shocker! So, basically, he’s just a regular dude. (What is shocking, however, is the fact that the National Enquirer wrote a story that wasn’t complete horse shit.)
I have a couple of gripes with Edwards though. I’m not even going to focus on the complete pussy maneuver of finally confessing to the affair on Nightline, on the opening day of the olympics, when everyone was either in bed, or watching some sort of first round air rifle contest, that they didn’t even realise was a sport until they tuned in to Beijing.
Instead, I think Edwards just needs a little re-education on the English language. And I think this will help out the great many other ‘men’ who cheat on their chicks.
John boy – you kept referring to your affair as a ‘mistake’. It was not a mistake. Buying Nacho Cheese flavoured Nachos when you meant to buy Cool Ranch – that’s a mistake. Sticking your penis in a woman other than your wife of 30 years – that’s a calculated decision. At least man-up enough to admit that you were not happy in your marriage, another woman showed you a bit of attention and rather than having an ounce of moral dignity, you chose to be led by your dick into the arms (and various other regions) of another woman. But don’t refer to it as a ‘mistake’.
You also made reference to the fact that ‘being 99% honest was no longer good enough’ and that’s why you finally told the truth. Alright, clearly, we need a little work on percentages here too. For months on end you have categorically denied this affair. So, you weren’t being anywhere close to honest, never mind 99%. You were, however, telling 100% lies. There are no degrees of honesty. Either you tell the truth, or you don’t. You didn’t and over here in the real world, we call that ‘lying’.
To the wife – saying you’re ‘proud of the courage he’s shown in the face of shame’? Bitch, please! Are you kidding me? There is nothing courageous about a man who cheats. It’s the least courageous thing anyone can do. Please don’t give him a pat on the back for being such a good boy when he is completely backed into a corner and has no choice but to admit that he fucked up. Kudos to you for being so ladylike about this whole thing, but I hope to hell you put his nuts in a vice and tightened it behind closed doors.
As for the whole, who-fathered-the-child situation, I think we all know there’s only one man who can settle this: Maury Povich. Maury has found countless babydaddies. Edwards, his wife and the mistress should all go on there. When they put the pictures of the baby and Edwards side by side, Edwards can bitch about how the baby looks nothing like him (because, according to the Maury Povich guest book of logic, all babies must look like their fathers). When Edwards is told he IS the father, the mistress can get all up in his face, screaming how she told him she was right all along. Or if Maury says he IS NOT the father, he can get up, do a dance and a back flip, like the classy guy he is and bitch the mistress out about how he told her so.
Either way, Mr Edwards, you should be counting your lucky stars that your wife, has chosen to spend her remaining time on earth (however long that may be, due to her inoperable breast cancer) sticking by your low life side.
Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
This English guy, set out on a mission to walk to India with no money, relying purely on the kindness of strangers for food and shelter. But he quit after he got to Calais in France, blaming the language barrier. Apparently, because he doesn’t parlez the francais, people thought he was just freeloading. Well, my francais is a bit rusty, but I’m pretty sure that someone traveling from England to India with absolutely no money is kind of the international symbol for ‘freeloader’. Furthermore, it kind of boggles the mind that he didn’t factor in the language barrier issue before setting out on a trip around the globe.
He says he wasn’t freeloading. It was a ‘pilgrimage’ to show that you can get by on the kindness of strangers. Perhaps this little experiment would have worked better in biblical times.
This guy seems like that annoying friend on a night out who never has money for drinks or a cab. This is what happens when you let them get away with it – they think they can take it to a whole new level and go globetrotting without their wallet.
So, for now he plans to just roam around the British coast wallet-free, learn French, then have another crack at his grand voyage to India next year. OK, who’s going to break the news to him that there’s quite a few countries between France and India? This could go on for years; he makes it to Germany, realizes he doesn’t speak German, abandons the whole trip, roams the British coast learning German and sets off again. He makes it to Russia, realizes he doesn’t speak Russian, abandons the whole….here’s hoping he has a very long life expectancy.
I’m moving to Zurich!
OK, I’m totally not moving to Zurich, but according to the latest research, which puts London as the most expensive city in the world to live (yet again), Zurich, it turns out, gives you the most bang for your buck (or Euro, whatever).
Getting it all out there
Newly sworn in Governor of New York, David Paterson, did the ol’ preemptive strike yesterday by fessing up to having an affair a while back. His wife also had one. Can’t anyone keep it in their pants anymore? This reminds me of David Blunkett, former British Home Secretary (also a blind man) who had an affair with a married woman back in 2004.
Lesson of the day: blind men get a lot of ass.
I have a bitch slap with these assholes names written all over it
If I knew their names, that is. I think the chick on the right is one of those 90210 bitches. My hatred of Crocs is well known. I have particular distaste for this hideous Family Von Croc trend. There’s so much wrong with this picture it makes my head hurt. Why do they all look so happy with their Shaq feet? A shirt and tie with white pants and orange Crocs? Seriously? The baby had the right idea. It said ‘screw this shit’ and flung it’s green Crocs right off.
Thursday, March 13th, 2008
Silda Spitzer: Spitzer residence
Ashley Alexandra Dupre: Hello. It’s Ashley Alexandra Dupre.
Ashley: You might know be better as ‘Kristen’.
Silda: Oh, right, yeah. How’s tricks? Uh, sorry, bad turn of phrase.
Ashley: It’s hard, you know. I haven’t slept. I just wanted to call and try to explain myself.
Silda: Well, I’m kind of busy trying to repair the tattered remnants of, what was once, my life right now. Can we do this some other time?
Ashley: You know, according to Dr Laura Schlessinger, you brought this on yourself. You didn’t focus on his needs or his feelings or make him feel like a hero. He had no choice but to fall for my charms, according to her.
Silda: Well, I would have had a pow wow about his feelings, but he was busy screwing skanky whores. No offense.
Ashley: None taken. Well, actually, some taken. I charge $4300 a pop. There ain’t nothing skanky about that.
Silda: Good point.
Ashley: So how you holding up? I saw the press conference. You looked so sad.
Silda: Girl, please. Did you see that vacant look on my face? I was daydreaming about the alimony I’ll be getting out of this. That asshat’s worth about a half a billion dollars. So, while some people have concluded that I was sad, I was actually thinking about jet skiing in the Dominican.
Ashley: What about all that ‘stand by your man’ stuff?
Silda: Oh I’ll be standing by him, till his ass comes home and gets these suitcases.
Ashley: I’m sorry it came to this.
Silda: Don’t be. You did me a favor. Now that he’s resigned and it’s unlikely he’ll get a job anywhere else, he’ll be round the house all the time. I just can’t bear it. Time for me to get a beach house. With any luck, he’ll be prosecuted and serve some time. He can get all the sex he wants inside, probably a hell of a lot cheaper.
Ashley: I don’t know what I’m going to do. My boyfriend left me and I don’t know how I’ll make rent. I might have to move back in with my parents in New Jersey.
Silda: Whatever bitch. You just told me you charge $4300 a pop. Go turn a trick and you got a couple of months rent right there.
Ashley: Well, I’m kind of trying to get out of the game. The feds are all over my ass right now.
Silda: Understandable. So what else have you got in the works?
Ashley: Well, I don’t know if you heard, but I’m actually a struggling musician. I expect I’ll be coming out with an album soon. Have you heard my single? It’s called ‘Move Ya Body’.
Silda: Like I said, I’m busy repairing the tattered remnants of my life, but I’m sure it’s a catchy little number.
Ashley: That’s OK – I imagine in about 8-12 weeks, my tell-all book will be coming out. Now that I’m not trickin’ anymore, I’ve gotta get this money somehow, ‘cause no one wants to move back to Jersey. Can I get an Amen?
Silda: Amen girl. Amen. It doesn’t get much worse.
Ashley: Hey, well thanks for being so understanding about this.
Silda: One word: alimony.
Ashley: OK, well, I gotta get back in the studio. I’ve had so many hits on my myspace page the past few days, I think people really want some new material on there.
Silda: Yeah, that’s why they’re checking it out. Anyway, I’ve got to go and pick up those tattered remnants I was telling you about. Good luck with everything and I’ll be sure to pick up that book when it comes out.
Ashley: And my single!
Silda: Of course. Well, Godspeed.
Ashley: And Godspeed to you, Silda.