Why must I always swim in the cesspool otherwise known as Just Jared? Normally I just filch pics and laugh at the bufoonery that goes on there. Some of my funnier stories have come out of happenings at that place. Yesterday was a different story. I can’t believe I dove off the deep end and splashed around in the muck and the mire with those half-witted pigs just to get a point across that they didn’t care to hear in the first place. I could actually feel myself getting dumber with each post. Posting at that place is the equivalent of crawling around on your stomach. Can you feel my self loathing through your computer screen?
DingHo slut! Do you see this shiz? How come Sacha Baron Cohen can find runway work but you’re limited to catwalking inside motorcycles shops? While you were sharpening your claws against Whorely’s petriphied phoreskin, your boy Sacha was stomping the runway of Agatha Ruiz de la Prada, getting his sessy Zoolander on. It doesn’t matter if it’s not The Prada, your unemployed ass needs to get a job! So what if he crashed the show while filming his mockumentary “Bruno: Delicious Journeys Through America for the Purpose of Making Heterosexual Male“, it’s never stopped your dingho ass from showing up where you are not wanted before! Your lazy arse needs to phollow suit! We all know Whorely put a huge dent in your $3.5M networth with his gambling phuckery and you totes should have made him suck Johnny Depp off to pay him back, but since you have the brain function of a pot holder, I don’t expect your business decisions to be any smarter. Your stupid arse could have been “living the life”, swimming in the millions made off of a WhoreDepp sess tape, and possibly made peace with all of us irate TypHos by supplying us with free copies, but that will never happen! Look cabbage, I know that you career is pretty much at a standstill because you can only take porny pictures and your dropping jawline makes you resemble Fred Mertz from I Love Lucy, but you can’t just not work! If you want people to know there’s dingho steak for dinner, then they need to hear it sizzle!
The Whorely fandom has been in a funk for the past few weeks so I figured we should try to cheer ourselves up by writing a little poetry. For me, poetry has always had a cleansing effect because I can express the most profound thoughts of my inner workings in a piece that is completely relatable yet totally abstract to its reader all at the same time. Poetry really can heal the soul if you allow it.
If you like, you can express yourself with a nice little haiku, like I did about my sessy Man-gina Barnsey:
You like it when I talk dirrrty you, don't you? Rowr!
“Waves of cinnamon
Pantene God is slowing down
go fast, pump harder”
Or maybe you choose to express yourself with a catchy limerick about someone you don’t like:
“There once was a girl named the Dingho Who had dreams of becoming a fameho So she hooked up with Whorely Now her career’s doing poorly Because nobody’s watching the show, oh!”
You can write about whatever you want as long as you keep it PG-13. A lot of snarky types frequent these TypHo blogs so I expect nothing short of brilliance from you slags. Go ahead and unleash your inner Walt Whitman. You won’t win a prize for having the best work, but we will talk shite about you behind your back because you think you’re the smartest thing since the Trapper Keeper.
