Monthly Archives: September 2009

Now Playing Near You:Love Happens in Jennifer’s Body


Looks like Friday passed without a slate of movie reviews for everyone.

Freaky Friday!

Doubtless, you all spent the weekend wandering the streets like so much Lindsay Lohan.

That’s my fault, kids. Total mea culpa.

So, The Kids is doling out a Thursday edition for you kids that’s bridging last week and this week in releases and whatnot. Hopefully this will get us all back on track for next week’s upcoming movies.

I didn’t see the following movies, but you might have.

Now Playing In Theaters:

  1. Love Happens: You know how some people get dumped by the person they’re convinced was The One, and as a result, never recover? And then they spend all their time talking and acting like “Oh my god, that just gave me this whole 2nd chance at life” sort of kick, so sometimes love happens with a pasty-faced pop stars, sometimes love happens with Vince “I look like a roofie dealer” Vaughn and all the while getting that crazy glint in the eye that sometimes means someone’s going home with her or someone’s going to get stabbed? Yeah, well……………………………..Jennifer Anniston has a new movie out. And co-star Aaron Eckhart is either getting taser or ‘tang outta this.

    Anniston: "Do you mind if I call you "Phoebe" tonight?"

  2. Jennifer’s Body: The Craigs’ reconciliation faces its first test; Drs. Auschlander and Gideon struggle together to save St. Eligius when Weigert decides to get out; Novino pushes Morrison to decide between her and Joanne; Griffin places his future in God’s hands; Ehrlich returns from his odyssey; and Fiscus’ last E.R. patient is a lady from the opera…But is it really over? The jaw-dropping climax culminates in a blue-collared dad placing his young autistic son Tommy Westphall’s miniature St. Eligius snow globe on the living room TV set, having summoned him to dinner. “St. Elsewhere’s” entire six-year saga had all been a figment of little Tommy’s imagination!
  3. Pandorum: A movie about Dennis Quaid waking up in outer space confused about who he is anymore or why he’s there. I’m guessing the same thing happened to Quaid when he woke up at some point on the set of a movie called Pandorum.
  4. Surrogates: Bruce Willis stars in a movie that takes place in the “near” future where people have access to robotics technology that allows them to control better looking, more fit versions of themselves. I’m guessing Wendy Williams’ robot looks like Shaq and Fergie’s robot looks like that kid from the movie Mask. Anyway, Willis’ character investigates a mysterious murder of a college student that helped the scientist that created these robots. F-ck it hurts to write three sentences about some of these movies–how does someone write an entire script? Plus, another addition to the Hollywood Names List: Rosamund Pike, which sounds like some hicktown highway exit in Western Maryland. Hey, Willis read Surrogates, you know what script was underneath it? Pandorum. And speaking of scripts,you’re probably confused by the Jennifer’s Body entry two spots up. Allow me to explain. It’s a movie about Megan Fox as a gorgeous high school girl possessed by a demon. Needless to say, an episode guide from Season 6 of St. Elsewhere was a better service to you all. Sadly Jennifer’s Body has nothing to do with Love-Hewitt, Lopez, Connelly or even Anniston for that matter.

    Type of line you'll hear in 'Surrogates': People are meant to LIVE life, not CONTROL it!

  5. Fame: Oy. Between this, Glee and America’s Got Talent, middle-class obnoxious geeks are having their day in the sun (and yes, I’ve lumped all those groups together). There is no greater hell for me than to imagine spending a day with kids who thrive in such environments. These are the people that go on to do things like Kids Songz, Disney channel movies and ticket sales at Loews movie theaters. This week’s entire slate of movies is really a showcase of Your Hollywood Career As You Knew It Is Officially Over actors. First we had Anniston, then Quaid, then Willis and now the instructors in the movie Fame. Take a look: Kelsey Grammar, Megan Mullally, Bebe Neuwirth and Charles S. Dutton. Toss in Debbie Allen and you’ve got 5 actors that would get more respect if they were seen dancing for change on the NYC subway. I couldn’t even search or attach a picture to this entry for fear that I’d see it and be compelled to punch my screen at some point. You want to know what fame is, kids, real fame? Waking up in space without knowing who you are anymore and why you’re there. Fame is Pandorum. Still, Lilith and Frasier reunited!
  6. Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs:… typically something you hear right before someone teabags you. You really want to take your kids to see that?

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Calling Car

Recently, the Kids…purchased a new phone: one of those iPhone-y type of phones that has it all: a touch screen, internet, plays music and movies, shoots lasers and dispenses condoms.driving on phone crash

Anyway, when I was finalizing the purchase, I was asked–repeatedly–if I wanted to purchase a Bluetooth set so I could talk in the car while I was driving and negotiating prices with hookers.

“Bluetooth?”, I said with a chuckle, “…I’ve already got blue balls–up top!” and raised my hand for a hi-5 . Sadly I was left hanging, nakedly un-5’ed.

"KITT, I need you to locate the nearest mall. I need tighter jeans."

But seriously; talking while you’re driving? Is there really any good reason for making phone calls while you’re driving?

I just think of how annoyed my friends get with people talking on the phone during the movies–I know this because they call me from the car on the way home.

And yet, tons of us talk on the phone.

"What's that Commisioner? Boys' pants are half off at Wanamakers? We're on our way!"

"What's that Commisioner? Boys' pants are half off at Wanamakers? We're on our way!"

There are painfully few people who need to talk while they’re driving a car.

Is this weird? This is weird, isn't it?

"Is this weird? This is weird, isn't it?"

That list is as follows:

  • That chick on “Little Couple” who must constantly assure the camerman that she can see where she’s going
  • Batman and Robin
  • Morgan Freeman, driver of Miss Daisy
  • Michael Knight

That’s it. A midget, a costumed pedophile, a slave and Hasselhoff. That’s it. The only people proven to have the need and the faculties to cleverly manage driving and talking at the same time.

You could possibly make a case for Lindsay Lohan talking to Herbie the Lovebug, but then, Lindsay Lohan will use her lips on anything, like ” Drug Addiction Edition Jamie Lee Curtis Action Figure Doll” Samantha Ronson.

Anyway, yes, I fail to see the reason to talk on the phone while driving.

I researched this with The Kids…‘ partner, Yahoo!, and together we came up with the following Top Cell Phone Conversations:

Yahoo!/Kids Don’t Get It Top Cell Phone Conversations (secretly recorded):

  1. “What do you want to eat tonight? I don’t know what I have a taste for either. Thai? Mexican? There’s a new Mex-Thai restaurant “Typhoon Day Worker” that we could try….”
  2. “Hey; I’m right around the corner from your place. I’ll call you when I get there. I should be there in a minute. Actually, I’m here now. Call me when you’re on your way down.”
  3. “I’m leaving you for my mistress.”
  4. “I was so Smurf-faced last night….what do you mean, ‘This is Sprint Customer Service’?…just talk to me, ok? I’m lonely and a lil’ horny.”
  5. “I’m leaving you for my wife.”
  6. “Hello, Applebee’s? Yes, it’s me. My usual. With extra low-fat fried cheddar potato skins and butter salad.”

So just some food for thought the next time you’re gassing up and hitting the road, or something, or someone, else at some point soon. Maybe it means making some adjustments in your life; and no, I don’t mean those McDonald’s drive-thru-looking Bluetooth sets that people wear.

I mean things like pulling over.

Or turning your phone off.

Or getting a Bat-signal.

"Remember what I said, boy: white rights only when I'm in the car. White. Right."

"Remember what I said, boy: white rights only when I'm in the car. White. Right."

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The POTUS Menace

When Baracky took office a few months back, I was worried that he wouldn’t inspire the same fear and evoke the same power as George “Yosemite Sam” Bush did. I mean, after all, Baracky seemed like the kind of guy that if you pissed him off he’d say “Kids… I’m very, very disappointed in you. Finish your vegetables, and go to straight to bed. No Wynton Marsalis hum-alongs tonight”.

He’s the kind of guy that would use terms like “mister” or “young lady” when addressing people with scorn–which was why it was so crucial that he got Uncle Joe Biden as Veep, since UJB probably uses dress-downs like “pansy”, “broad” and “tramp”. I mean, really; I’m much more afraid of Michelle “dickpuncher” Obama than the actual POTUS. Where B.O. is all “disappointment” and “veggies”, Michelle is probably most likely to spank you in front of hanging portraits of Cleveland or something, all the while watching Oprah with a cool detachment that can only be described as “BTK-like”. This contrast is best captured in the pic below, taken at a Michelle-scheduled impromptu tryout for Ted Kennedy’s open seat held at the White House:

Obamas Wrestle

Barack: "Oh, careful boys!"

Just look at the two of them: Baracky’s virtually hiding behind Michelle with an “Oh my! That must hurt!” look–he’s like that black chick that Michael Jackson takes to the movies in Thriller.

And then there’s Michelle. Cooly watching the scene with a dark, murderous glee that makes you wish she hadn’t lost the role to Gary Oldman in Coppola’s Dracula. Her look is one of cruel amusement, and a face that seems to say, “I want to see one of these men bleed”. She’s like a Phoenix’s Commodus lording over Crowe’s Maximus Austrialianus Assholus Drunkus.

But that was apparently the old Barack. The one that wanted to appear on t-shirts, buttons and tampons. The new Barack Obama–the one that’s tired of hearing Michelle say “Bat-dammit Barack, you Smurf me like  POTUS Bush, when I want that Clinton kind of Smurfing…”–he’s stepping into the ring now, as evidenced during his Health(s)care speech, when he issued a bounty on anyone in Congress that twisted the words or intentions of his plan to use–actually I’m not sure what exactly, but I think it combined the use of the Care Bear Stare, tax cuts and an impending sneaker deal–to reform our nation’s healthcare industry.

This one’s taking the fight to fools, beating them off quick and hard, like your mother.

No more of that “pen is mightier than the sword” schtick:

imaginary sword

En garde with my strong diction!

He’s playing for keeps now! Now he’s watching over fights, like this death-match between UJB and Joe Wilson:

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate."

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate."

And then, when UJB fell, Barack Smoothtalker stepped in himself to thwart Darth Wilson:

barack skywalker

"It would appear as though my Barack is bigger than yours."

and in his bloodlust, surprised all the attendees by turning on the Emperor(ess), Vader-style:

Michelle: If you strike me, I will return stronger than before...

Michelle: "Barack, if you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine..."

It was a move that, naturally, stunned the crowd of spectators and press people alike. But in a savvy attempt to redeem himself, Barack reached into his magic bag (last seen during the elections) and offered the magical Golden Compass to Murderball Junior League’ :

golden compassFour more years! Four more years!

*Chewbacca roar*

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The Preacher’s Winfrey

People Winfrey Houston

She just stole Oprah's ring.

In the same vein as Celebrity Boxing and Shaq vs., Oprah Winfrey has decided to tackle interviewing Whitney Houston as part of her 24th season premiere week. Between this and the earlier Black Eyed Peas performance she had on her show this week, I’m more convinced than ever that Stedman’s been purposely feeding Oprah rotten krill from her snack bucket the last couple weeks.

I’m honestly not sure who’s the bigger crackhead nowadays–these two women could swap faces like Cage and Travolta in Face/Off and I’d believe it–but the promo that I saw for it showed the two of them sitting on an empty stage–presumably so Houston couldn’t sell anything for smack (that’s for you, Claudia) later.

Before we launch into our latest foray into the world of Winfrey, a few words about the woman I call “OW”.

  • Since when did it become blasphemous to criticize Oprah Winfrey? I’ve heard jokes about child porn, Popes, Jesus and everyone’s mom, and yet, you say something about OW, and people want to waterboard you. Did I miss the part where she became something other than a talk show host? Did she cure something freaky like orphanism or midgetry and I missed it? I just skimmed the headlines at First of all, she’s not even eating krill on her website. LAME. Anyway, the headlines read as follows: “Whitney Houston”, “Mariah Carey”, “Flash Mob Scene”, “Patrick Swayze”, and “Dr. Phil is Back!”–these are the same headlines you’d find on Plus, her symbol looks like the same “O” for “”–that website that has commercials with the woman straddling discounted products and spanking herself. This is what people are following?

    She just stole Oprah's bra.

    She just stole Oprah's bra.

  • Anyone that praises the likes of Maya “Red Foxx” Angelou is lame.
  • Oprah once hated on beef a la the “Mad Cow” fiasco so much she had to stand trial for it. Yet that self-same week there’s video of her eating raw beef with a bib on exclaiming, “I hate you, yet I love you” over and over again with blood-stained beefy lips. A few moments later, Gayle King is seen emerging from under the table, also with a bib on.

Yeah so anyway, OW’s interviewing the S

The awkward ride after.

Gayle and Oprah, the awkward ride after.

now Queen herself this week in not one, but two episodes. I would’ve thought the only numbers following the name “Whitney Houston” would be “5-10” or at the least “8 ball” but there you have it. A two-parter with the Queen of Daytime TV. Crack’s never been this good to anyone.

I refuse to watch this, but if I were to watch the show, I imagine the following will occur during this sensational two-parter:

  • Oprah noting at the start of the show that the interview is being conducted on an empty stage to prevent Whit from stealing couches, lamps or grip boys in an attempt to sell them for crack.



  • Oprah conducting the entire interview with a glaring, scorching spotlight trained on Houston the entire time with a cold glass of crack sitting on a table right out of Whitney’s reach.
  • OW showing Whitney what continued Bobby-crack would do to her physical appearance over the years by using one of those split-screens. One side will be Whitney’s current face and the other side? Fergie’s.
  • Oprah, determined to hammer home the deconstruction Whit was causing herself, will provide the classic anti-drug demonstration starting with the line, “this is drugs. This–” before Whit exclaims, “DRUGS?!”, grabs the frying pan, runs back stage, and spends the next hour trying to snort it, cook it, inject it before finally just calling Bobby.

But really, what’s this interview going to reveal anyway that we all haven’t already assumed/felt like we already know? Unless she’s going to reveal that it was actually Kevin Costner that intro’d her to crack and not Bobby, Shthere’s not much to be surprised about or learn here. And in my limited interaction with crackheads, one of the biggest things I know is that you can’t believe a word that they’re saying. Nothing. Not a damn one.

I can hear it now: “See, see, here’s the thing Harpo, I mean Oprah– that wasn’t crack, baby, that was powdered sugar. Whitney runs on Dunkin’.”

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The Kids….Worst Jobs List

Oooooooooooh sh-t.

It’s time for a new list here at The Kids!

And don’t act like you don’t miss them.

And don’t act like you don’t reference them.

Hugh Hefner and girlfriend Holly Madison

Chicks love skeet-skeet robes and sunglasses. Viva Viagra!

And don’t act like you haven’t bought box sets of Alf and Silk Stalkings now.

You want these lists.

This time though, we’re looking at the worst jobs you can have–at least pop culturally. I got the idea after watching one of those shows on of those TLCDiscoveryLogoLifetime channels. Rarely impressed with shows devoted to lists, I’ve decided to take on the job myself, and so, I present to you,  Worst Pop Culture Jobs.

We’ll update these from time to time.

The Kids Don’t Get It Worst Pop Culture Jobs

Hugh Hefner’s Girlfriend(s)

At some point,everyone becomes aware of their mortality. For some people, it’s the passing of a close relative, a near-miss accident, or the passing of a classmate or childhood friend at a tender age. Personally, it happened when I heard Michael Jordan’s Hall of Fame speech which was laden with a slurred quality that I hadn’t heard since Mary Jo Buttafuoco’s press conference. There were words so heavily butchered during that speech that I quickly understood why the only thing he could sell was sneakers and R. Kelly songs.

Anyway, I can’t imagine a worse way to come to grips with your mortality than through your job as Hugh Hefner’s Sex Pillow.

A couple quick facts about Hugh Hefner to establish who we’re talking about:

  • founder of Playboy Magazine/Entertainment empire
  • gave apple to Eve
  • presented keys to Sodom and Gamorrah
  • arm-wrestled Lincoln
  • touched the breasts of Carmen Elektra, Pam Anderson, Anna Nicole Smith and Sojourner Truth

As you can see, he’s cultured.

Hef and Anna Nicole out for a day around the city.

Anyway, Hefner, whose face is beginning to resemble one of those Mexican Day of the Dead holiday skulls, has garnered an impressive string of girlfriends over the years.  These women, usually occurring in pairs and threes (a hangover from Hef’s time helping Noah load the ark), are required to live and sleep with Hef in the sprawling Playboy Mansion 365/yr away from any family, friends or MySpace. It’s like an adult version of Beauty and the Beast only instead of the singing teacups we have dancing E-cups.

But back to the subject: could there be a worse job than sleeping with Joe Black? If you’re one of these broads, you’ve traded in nights out dancing, getting free drinks and limo rides for sleeping with an 82-lbs Skeletor look-alike in a red velvet skeet-skeet-stained bathrobe.

I’m sure you’re thinking, “Well Smurf, I hate my job and can’t stand my partner anyway–maybe I want to join HH’s love ranch!”.

I just smacked you.


Hef loads a couple more asses onto the ark.

But fair enough. So……What’s the screening process for this like? What’s the ad for such a prestigious position? Well, glad you asked. Read below.

SWF 18-26 Needed for Companionship, Diapering

I’m a highly-successful, lonely gentleman who resembles Jack Skellington in his mid-300s looking for love. I consider myself worldly and horny. I’m looking for a busty, wayward tart who likes sleeping in a porn grotto, helping me pass my water and at night, being my penis sock. Must enjoy sleeping a lot and forgetting things. Willingness to entertain becoming lesbian a plus. Desperate inquiries only.

And there you have it. Someone out there answers these and is then treated to years of old man junk, posing on cakes, beach chairs and leopard-print divans.

And at night (3:45pm), the lights stay up go down and you retire to Hef’s bedroom to give septuagenarian h’jobs.

Imagine that now.

A lifetime (Hef’s riches has allowed him to purchase the same Holy Grail last seen in the Indiana Jones movie and Lil Jon’s videos) of flaccid love-making, mixed in with some lesbianism (which hey, might be cool for you anyway, so loosen up, chick), pink nighties and coke on your pancakes to keep you going.

It’s a life guaranteed to have you waking up at least 3x/week with wet bed sheets.

A life of repeating the same story (or sentences) at least 8x/day.

A life of making love with a naked picture of Anne Nicole Smith looking down at you from the bed.

Of chewing his food first and then giving it to him, like a momma bird.

And it’s all captured on Talk Soup.


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The Kids….Wants You to Pardon This Interruption

kanye haircut

Kanye is tight-lipped about his alien probe nite.

Man, September 2009 will be remembered as the Month of Interruption.

Just look:

  • While delivering his latest Greatest Speech EVER (this time the subject was Health Care), Barack Obama was interrupted by GOP asshat Joe Wilson yelled “You lie!” to the POTUS. Later on he was beaten outside by Al Sharpton’s hair.
  • ‘racky Obama did his own interrupting a few days earlier when he delivered a speech on education, working hard and a reminder that Big Brotha Brother Is Watching.
  • Shawne Merriman using the Heimlich Maneuver on Tila Tequila out of apparent concern that she was….uh choking….on….I dunno Smurfing know….Tequila?….


    Oprah and the Peas walk the VMA red carpet.

  • Oprah Winfrey–Devourer of White Women and Bad Books–interrupted her usual out-of-touch condescending talk show format with a live performance by the Black Eyed Peas which apparently included inciting a riot of Wiggles fans. Once it was over, Winfrey, Fergie,, the Latino Vampire and the Filipino Mute joined bodies and formed a Megazord and flew to–

–the VMAs, MTV’s desperate, yearly attempt to remain hip and relevant–a hard task for a channel that’s now best associated with The Hills and True Life: I’m a Bi-Sexual Hermaphodite (following Fergie and a kid in Ithaca, NY). Anyway, the VMAs, much like the MTV Movie Awards and Kourtney and Khloe Spread the Clap in Miami has now become a contrived parody of itself, so far removed from the realm of entertainment that it’s really little more than a lead-in to a Proactiv informercial.

Granted, I used to watch the VMAs back when I was in college and for a short while right after college, but about 5-6 years ago I stopped once I realized the following:

  • everyone there is coked-out
  • that no matter how much MTV wants me to believe so, Russell Brand, Adam Sandler, Ben Stiller, and Andy Samberg aren’t funny
  • no Janet Jackson titty
  • I am not an inmate

….so I haven’t tuned into one of their shows in awhile. Well, no, that’s not true: I did see when Britney Spears made her dramatic return to MTV, which was sorta like watching Whitney say to Bobby, “You’re Smurfed-up, I’m Smurfed-up, but you know what? I can’t quit you, baby. Spread your toes and let’s get high all over again.

Thundercat Ho!

Thundercat Ho!

So that means that I didn’t watch it this year either, which apparently meant that I missed out on Interruption 09 incident #5: Kanye West Takes the Stage. For the 2 of you out there that don’t know, KW stormed the stage after Taylor “Negros Scare Me” Swift was awarded Music’s Latest Product To Promote Until Next Year.



Besides “West Side Story” and “Chicago–starring Jerry Springer!”, this might be the best staged production that I’ve ever seen. Granted, I think the crowd reactions were genuine–most notably Lady Gaga, who was apparently headed to audition for a spot in Where the Wild Things Are movie.

To be honest, I thought it was a pretty spectacular and hilarious moment. In typical Facebook fashion, the F’book community took to arms by launching a status-update assault criminalizing Kanye stealing Taylor’s “moment” at an awards show that in year’s past included such pop culture luminaries like RuPaul, Andrew Dice Clay, the Spice Girls and Limp Bizkit. Meanwhile, Philadelphia public libraries are closing all over the city.

Go GaGa over that, asshats.


Je-sus drinks/God show me the 'Henny/'Cause I'm doin' wrong...

I’m not sure that Kanye’s at much fault anyway. If you had to sit through the VMAs–including sitting through Jay “Oops I Crapped My True Religion Jeans” Z and Alicia Keys’ boring-ass “Empire” performance, had a girlfriend who decided to look like Grace Jones and dress like Cheetarah, downed enough Hennessey to tranq Beyonce’s Ass–all after an alien abduction left crop circles in your head–you might see Taylor Swift, the bright lights, the stage and OMG Rush The Stage!

Wouldn’t you?

I mean, wouldn’t you?

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Shaken, Not Stirred

Of the many, many bizarre things that I heard about this week–a week that included somehow more news about Michael Jackson, a week where people protested the POTUS imploring kids to stay in school and “remember that Big Barack is watching you”, a week where a Republican politician acted like he was at Showtime at the Apollo–the most bizarre thing had to be waking up in my hotel bed the other morning and seeing the following go by on CNN ticker when I turned on the TV:

NFL player Shawne Merriman chokes reality star Tila Tequila in his home


Tila Tequila is a reality star?

Now proudly tracks-free for 6 hrs and counting!

Now proudly tracks-free for 6 hrs and counting!

If being a drunken bi-curious tramp makes one a star, then I know about 14 chicks from college that are up for the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

I kid, I kid (kinda).

Anyway, Tila Tequila–probably the only person that can describe what syphilis tastes like– was for some reason visiting Shawne “No, I’m not Sinbad’s brother” Merriman’s house. And by ‘some reason’ I of course mean reasons rhyming with the words “hex”, “brugs” and “hoop hex on brugs”.

But still, I can’t possibly imagine what would compel Shawne Merriman to do the following:

  1. invite Tequila into his home. Like a vampire, this is the only way that a Tequila can enter your domicile–invitation only. Why risk it, Shawne? Haven’t we learned anything from Mike Vick? Bitches only get you in trouble. Again, I kid, I kid.
  2. touch Tila Tequila. This is because doing so would undoubtedly make one positive for something: coke, chlamydia, steroids. Why risk your contract? Haven’t we learned anything from Mike Vi–wait, used that joke already.
  3. choke Tila Tequila. I mean, Tila Tequila is already in your house. On those grounds alone, you’ve shown you’ve got poor judgment. I imagine TT comes into any place she’s visiting in the same fashion: walks in, pisses on the carpet, tongues the nearest mom/girlfriend/pet and then proceeds to plop on the couch and pleasure herself to episodes of Top Chef. In that order. Merriman and his posse probably found the first couple of things kinda cool and funny (“yeah mom, get it! you in the nfl now, baby!”) but then–what happened to make him snap? Did TT inadvertently kick and break one of his XBOX 360 controllers? Were they hatef*cking when she suddenly said “Come on, Shawne–Ray
    One day, Tila.

    One day, Tila.

    Lewis stabs better than you!” in front of his boys (and mom)? Did she laugh at his demo tracks for his unreleased rap album  Plaxico Burress and Shawne Merriman Productions Presents: Who Shot Ya? ? I imagine one of the above went down, and then, dayworker landscaper Latrelle Sprewell walks in right when TT is trying to leave and says, “hey boss, choke her!”. And then it’s on. It’s on. It’s on. It’s on. Get the Patron.



  4. offer the explanation: “well she was drunk and her name is ‘Tequila’. WTF? I mean really, WTF? First of all, what sort of Smurfed-up health class did Merriman take the 3rd time in 8th grade that says, “when out with bi-sexual peers that appear to be intoxicated, take their keys, give them a glass of water, and then choke the ho. Repeat.”  I’d like to see the Budweiser commercial that ends with “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk. Or breathe.” All this on the basis that her name’s ‘Tequila’. I hate to see how he handles an emergency situation with anyone with the name ‘Johnson’ (“Her last name’s Johnson–I banged her”), ‘Pott’ (“Her last name’s Potts–I smoked her”) or ‘Gay’ (“His last name’s Gay–I banged him…and then I hated myself so I called up Johnson”).

Regardless, there’s no good ending to such a story when it’s basically reduced to the classic “he said, she herpes” bit. Roger Goodell, who’s already had to institute a “no Twitter-ing during games” policy, a “1 more strike with you driving and killing people when you’re stoned and you’re out of the league” policy and a “if you taser dogs, you’d better talk at local schools afterwards” policy, will now have to implement yet another in the form of the “stay away from all sorts of tequila–Cuervo or Tila included” policy.

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