Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The Celebrity Name for Kardashian & Canuck Breaks 13 Obscenity Laws

Look, it’s early, I know that, but I’m just going to say what we’re all thinking at that time of year; Valentine’s Day is a scam!
Sure, I’m not exactly what you call a “romantic”, I mean, haven’t we all been escorted out of “Build A Bear” for recording selections from, 9 1/2 Weeks to stuff into a unicorn. No just me? Probably, just me?
I just don’t get it, why do we set aside just one day to profess our love for the person / Lindsay Wagner cutout we’re with. Why do we put ourselves through the agony of pretending to listen about young pinots, or listening to jazz, just in the hope that tonight’s the night she’ll let you call out Jill Whelan’s name in bed
Hey, guess what? Cassanova didn’t have to worry about the prix fixe menu or man-scaping, and you know what? I’m not either. I’m out, Sherman. I’m out. I’m done with this thing called love.
You can catch me stenciling Sylvia Plath quotes onto conversation hearts.
Yep, it’s all different from here on out. You won’t find me reading from Sonnet 18 today. I’m going with Sonnet 11A – That’s a list of Shakespeare’s nicknames for boobs: Capules, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern, etc…
There’ll be no cute treasure maps tucked into your purse leading you to a romantic picnic lunch; instead mine will lead you to the shallow graves of rough sex workers or missing interns.
You can forget rose petals strewn across the bed and backlit by jasmine scented candles. Nope, the only concern I’ll show will be the whipped soy butter substitute I’ll lean the copy of “Last Tango in Parisagainst.
I’m not calling to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, rather to ask for bail after being arrested at a Godiva’s after an altercation over their refusal to inject ether into the truffles.
Do I have a point? Yes, yes I have a point! And my point is this: It’s all about how you see the world.  Some people think an open window is an invitation to engage in witty banter with Vinnie Delpino, whereas I see it as the springboard to go from creepy anonymous drifter to trade marking the term, “John Mark Karr-iffic.”
Look, I get it, there’s a nothing a guy won’t do to seem more attractive/interesting to a woman. And let’s face it, crying during Ryan Gosling movies and a tribal tattoo just ain’t cutting it anymore.
I’m just going to tell it like it is gals. You’re smarter than us; plain and simple. As a matter of fact, we may not even crack the top three species, let alone being in the top two genders. I’m pretty sure there’s a waterskiing squirrel or a chicken that plays tic-tac-toe at a state fair out there that has a little something to say about that.
Case in point, last week, a guy in Ohio killed himself and released his menagerie of wild animals loose on the public. I'm willing to bet that when it's all said and done, at the root of his problems was a Josh Groban  album playing, and a love unrequited. I just don’t get it. I mean, what's the fascination we have with trying to domesticate wild animals? 
Sure, a lot of people see Diane Fossey living with gorillas, and they think “grand sociological experiment,” but let's call it what it really is, the ultimate Furrie fetish. What she accomplished with years of smearing herself with gorilla feces and beating her chest, I knocked out in a weekend with Craigslist and some Mexican vicodin.
Look, we get it, wild animals are majestic, chimeran, beasts that we long to understand, but unless you can use them as slot machines or vacuum cleaners like in, The Flintstones let's just let them be.  I'm sure every white tiger and silverback gorilla's dream is to be ogled by some guy and his yard long margarita at the Bellagio.
You know who's to blame for all this, don't you, don't you? Stringent animal rights laws. If Marlin Perkins had been allowed to trap and tag surly waitresses and hookers like he wanted, then none of this would have ever happened.
Anyways, athlete sexing enthusiast Kim Kardashian is back on the free market and the Canucks should use the remainder of the salary cap to jump all over her. Uhhm, figuratively.
If Kim Kardashian was a Canuck:
·         We’d instantly have a player who has experience with several rings.
·         Staph outbreak in the locker room would be the least infectious thing for the Canucks to worry about.
·         Pucks going in the nets off of back end deflections would be a thing of the past.
·         Khloe  = Semenko
·          Team unity at an all time high. Kesler no longer feels awkward being the only one who waxes.
·         Luongo no longer blamed for clogging the drain with hair in the shower.
·         HBO’s 24/7 series picks Vancouver for their next installment. It will be shot entirely in night vision.
·         Bulky shoulder pads blamed for concussions to be replaced by sleek, stylish looks ready for brunch or the beach.
·         Instead of playing a song when a goal’s scored they go right to body shots.
·         Power play percentages soar when Sean Avery is penalized 8 times for delay of game as he tries to exchange moisturizing tips with her.
·         Alain Vigneault catches himself midway before he tells her to ride the bench. You just never know how that’s going to play itself out.
·         Anson Carter asks for, waits, demands a professional tryout contract!
·         Luongo’s focus improves as Kardashina takes every interview, media request, photo shoot, for herself.
·          Closed door meeting after she keeps referring to Henrik and Daniel as Khloe and Khourtenay.
·         Canucks are the only team in the league with a category for “picking the right shoes” for the skills competition.”

·         Equipment moved out for new Canuck’s VIP Room. Ballard and Hodgson not on the list.

Follow me on Twitter @steveinthekt. I’m an Autumn


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