Tuesday, February 22, 2011

You don't have to be a writer! Just a headline-generating skank!

Soooo..... apparently, Jesse James has signed on with some publisher to pen a tell-all book. (Insert sound of crickets here.) Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. Much like mine was when I discovered this little tidbit of information. 

What exactly would Jesse James have to say that would be even remotely interesting? Is he going to try and justify his cheating ways? Oh wait, he already did that. But I'm guessing he's gonna recycle that shit 'cause, I mean, come on, you can milk that "poor me" teat 'til it's dry and crusty. 

I'm guessing the book will go something like this (I may have embellished some details. Ok, most of it is just plain made up. I'm trying to make a point here. Stick with me people.): 

Before I became famous with my (surprise, surprise) reality show, I was nothin' but white trash. I grew up poor, in some nondescript trailer park (like a zillion other kids in the US). My momma was a prostitute and my dad was a drunk. That's why he beat me. 

And my momma, well, she was workin' on the streets so she was never around to protect us kids from dad's "fits". Then, when I was a teenager, I joined a gang, smoked dope and was bangin' anything with a tattoo. That's when I discovered my love of motorcycles and chicks. One became my saving grace, the other my downfall.

You gotta understand, I was tryin' to fill a void inside me with all the sex (yawn). I had such low self-esteem from my pops beatin' on me and my mom whorin' around, I felt like a nobody. Screwin' skanks filled up the emptiness inside me. 

And even though I was married to a smart, attractive, sweet movie star, my horrible childhood compelled me to continue to pursue unhealthy and hurtful behaviour. Every time I stuck my dick into a new vagina, it lessened the pain of my daddy's blows, which weren't just physical but emotional too. 

You see, it's not my fault I'm a lyin' whore. It's my daddy's and my momma's and the sad, sad circumstances of my early life. So basically, I can't take any responsibility for my actions as an adult since I was abused as a child (barf).

I'm engaged again, and y'all know that's gonna work out 'cause I went to therapy and shit after my split from the movie star and I'm all better now. I was able to blame my parents for everything that's gone wrong in my life, and now I can move on and be in a healthy relationship. 

And if that don't work out, I can blame the movie star for not "understanding" me. 'Cause it ain't my fault.

But I may have to reveal some intimate details of my marriage to the movie star so's I can cash in on her celebrity to sell my crappy ass book. You know how it is...


Aimee said...

Dude, that's totally forkin hot. Ain't nothin better than some dick-slingin trailer trash! (And I'm from Alabama, so I can totally say that shit).

Sassy Stylings said...

@ Aimee: "dick-slingin trailer trash" - now that's one I haven't heard before - loves it! And so appropriate for Mr. James...


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