True Story: As some of you may know, I spend my days writing steamy romance. It is my true calling, but since I am no Danielle Steel I must suppliment my income with a night job, dancing at Spanky's House of Ho's. A girl's got to make her cheddar, yo. Anyway I'm used to meeting plenty of big celebrities, but I must admit to being dazzled when none other than Kevin Federline himself wandered in the other night.
He and his posse had come prepared to party and soon enough the fifties were flying and oceans of Red Bull were consumed. Kevin was looking pretty darn hot with his newly shorn dome and shiny bling blazing from his ears, although he's much shorter than I'd imagined. The other dancers were egging me on to go talk to him so I did.
"Hey, Kevin," I began with a smile. "I really like your pink sweatshirt. My mom has one just like it."
He didn't answer. In fact, I don't think he heard a word I said because he was busy staring at my friend Diamond's new boobs. They are very nice but nothing special. I mean she just got the standard, run of the mill, double D's. Ho hum. I'm the one sporting triple F's!
I really wanted to ask him about Britney and the kids but soon it was time for me to go on stage. I just knew Kevin would be impressed with my act. I slowly peel off my clothes to the tune of "Popozao" while juggling balls of fire and contorting my body into the shape of a pretzel. Then my pet spider monkey, Tucksworth, who's dressed in a powder blue tuxedo, throws knives at me which I catch in my teeth. As my grand finale I pull a chain, and douse myself with a bucket of water while doing the splits and yodeling The Star Spangled Banner.
As I took my bows to a standing ovation, I glanced over to see how Kevin had enjoyed my dancing.
Would you believe he still had his eyes glued to Diamond's cleavage? Talk about a one track mind! I was so miffed that I ignored him for the rest of the night. Poor Diamond, didn't even get a big tip for her troubles. Instead of cash he slipped her a card that read, "Dr. Federline's Breast Examination Service, good for one free checkup!" Needless to say we were not impressed.
15 comments:
I centainly hope Tucksworth gets a piece of the take.
I can't imagine anything less fun than the thought of partying with K-Fed. If I had a penis, it would be blowing limply in the wind.
Pru - You need to slap some ads on this blog and make some $$$ from your hilarious writing.
Wow.... and all you got for your efforts were fake 50's! Lame-o!
I forgot to say... at least you were wearing a bra right?
GF- that damn monkey is robbing me blind! But you have to be nice to the one throwing knives at you.
Bren- oh come now. I'm sure he's very good at conversatin'.
LA- It would be less stressful than juggling fireballs. I hate it when my hair gets singed! But does anyone really make money from those ads?
T- who needs a bra when you've got industrial strength silicone? These puppies aren't going anywhere!
Damn girl! Only thing missing from this tale? A photo of Tucksworth in his tux!
I wish I could take a picture for you, Di, but unfortunately flashbulbs make Tucksworth gnash his teeth, rip off his tux, and then run wild, flinging poo at every human within a quarter mile radius. I then have to employ a monkey whisperer to calm him.
Hi Pru,
Now that Blogger has grudgingly allowed me to comment again, I can say "hellooo" and "s'alright?"
Now, Pru, here's your money making scheme. You get Kevin rip-roarin' drunk and marry his ass. Sans prenup. You're guaranteed to get 50% of whatever he got from Brit. Caaa-ching!
All I want to know is - is he as greasy as he looks?
Ffleur- What's up, eh? Is it eh or aye?
Mish- that is a devilish little plan. I like it!
Fran- his pores are well lubricated. Mmmmhmmmm don't you find yourself longing to lick his facial stubble? Oh baby!
I'm sooo sick of this fucker.
Red Bull sucks. RockStar is the only energy drink worth buying--the champagne of energy drinks, if you will. I would have expected a classy guy like K-Fed to know that.
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