A Taurus for a Scorpio

So I dropped my Mustang off at the Ford place on Monday to have my lovely problems fixed. I am getting the fender and the front bumper replaced and I’m also going to pay out of pocket for them to replace the back bumper also as long as it’s in there and the paint is all mixed up. I’m not sure how my original quote for the back bumper a few years ago was over $1,000 but now they can add this one in for only $350. Well, whatever the reasoning, I took the deal because it’s the cheapest way I can think of to fix up my car. Did I mention that my loaner car is a 2006 Taurus? That’s what I’m driving, the big willie pimpin’ 4 door Taurus. It’s actually a nice car and all; it just really isn’t my style I guess. Nuff said about that. Onto more pressing matters that are taking the nation by storm…

Anna Nicole Smith’s death. Actually I don’t want to talk about her death because everyone else is doing that. I would just like to pose a question, not just about her but everyone, although famous people to more of an extent. Why is it that when someone dies they suddenly become saints? When she was alive all you would hear about was how she was doing stupid stuff and she was loopy and most likely high or drunk and a slut. Suddenly she dies and everyone that is reporting on her mentions that she led a troubled life. Poor Anna led a troubled life. What the fuck is that all about? Someone dies and it’s time to start treating them nicely? Why don’t we treat the people nice when they are alive and then rip into them when they’re dead? It would make much more sense that way because hey, the fuckers already dead. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me… especially if I’m already dead.

The other part of this is the baby thing. How many men are going to step up and say… yeah, I fucked her. None of these bastards have that baby’s interests in mind, just the fact that that little shit might be worth millions. Maury Povich is probably shaking his head at this. On his show he can’t get any of the men to even claim to be the father, here there’s a bunch of guys lined up trying to claim responsibility. With all of these guys claiming to be the father, I really only see one possible solution and no, it’s not a DNA test. I think the only way that you can solve this ordeal is the good old fashioned American way… with a reality TV show. We could call it Anna Nicole’s Baby Daddy and have every guy that has slept with her in the last year or two and put them on an island in the middle of nowhere.

What else is going on around here? What, you want to know more about my reality show idea? That was it, round them up and drop them all off on a deserted island. No TV cameras or anything, just ridding the states of more rubbish. I could win an Emmy for that.

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