Please, God, say it ain’t so. You know it’s bad when you dump your scrub and then take up with Paris’.
X-17 shows us the stuff of nightmares. And I’m not just talking about the scary shirts they’re wearing. Britney and Fat Elvis (who I’ve read is going broke) were out and about last night at Teddy’s. I’d be kinder to him but ever since the “firecrotch” tape and the way he said she was disgusting for not being richer, I’ve thought this guy was the biggest tool in the box. He looks like a bellhop at the Hotel California and I want to smack some sense into her. You bought some panties! You were on the right track! Now you’re going to share a bucket of chicken and some coke cut with baby laxative with this clown. I quit.
p.s. It’s bad that I think he could possibly be sorta hot if he showered and got a personality bypass, right? *hangs head* I’m going to go pray for guidance, now.