February 9th, 2007


a/s/l - 39/f/autopsy room, dead as a fucking doornail

I'll always remember where I was when I found out that Anna Nicole Smith was pronounced dead: sitting at work, sobbing into a bundle of Kleenex, pounding on the desk top in red-faced frustration, wailing for the world to hear, "WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN ME?????"

Let us not forget how important Anna Nicole Smith was to American history! Need I remind you of her impact in the entertainment industry? I mean, who else BUT this wonderful pearl of a treasure had the range, the determination, and the prowess to play Anna Nicole Smith on the Anna Nicole Show? And who could forget all of those Emmy near-misses with her guest roles on such television staples as "Veronica's Closet", "Ally McBeal", and, of course, "Penn & Teller's Sin City Spectacular"? And, believe you me, I'll be weeping myself to sleep tonight as I laugh along with Anna in my straight-to-DVD copy of her swan song "Illegal Aliens" ("You thought they were from another planet.....you were right!").

Not only that, but did you know Anna Nicole Smith fought tooth and nail her entire life for our American Freedom? Like, when she was a stripper in Texas, she would jiggle those fake tits and flash those poonanners right in the FACE of anyone who didn't love America! When her pictures first came out in Playboy, she single-handedly convinced Saddam Hussein to stop being a dictator. And, as the wife of an 80-something year old Oil Tycoon, Anna Nicole Smith held closed-door meetings with OPEC and, with her massive cleavage power, kept American gas prices at an all-time low!

Did I hear someone say Baby Got Back? Yes, I think we can all agree that Anna Nicole was at her most bootylicious when she was a big fat ass. I mean, every time I masturbate, I'm thinking about Anna Nicole, 250 pounds dry as a bone, licking fried chicken grease off of those pudgy little fingers. Yes sir, nothing gets my boner jumpin' and jivin' like thinking about her belly rolls all up in my face, suffocating me as she thrashes around looking for the last box of Oreos.

It's a sad, tragic day, DEFINITELY worthy of the constant news coverage on CNN (and I'm sure all other channels, probably even going so far as to pre-empt original programming through the weekend). I mean, it's not like we're talking about James Brown or anything, all he did was invent soul music, funk music, and the foundations for rap music. Did James Brown have huge jugs and a problem with pills? Well, yeah, he had the drug problem, but them titties ... that's real NEWS!

February 8th, 2007, a day that will live in infamy. Rest In Peace you diseased, incompetent, stretch mark-having, bad-mother-to-over-dosing-children drug fiend. For your sake, I hope there's an afterlife, and you're forced to suck the withered 89 year old cock of your billionaire ex-husband who you supposedly loved for all of eternity.

Because, after all, I'm an old softy when it comes to true love.