My name is Downtown Chick. I'm only a pea from the same Fabaceae family of the girl on the video. I don't really know who she is but she's a chick and our mutual auntie is a pea, so I'm a chickpea. Anyhow.
I think you have been looking for this chick for almost two months now. I'm sorry you didn't catch her. What? You have been searching for her all over the city with $1,000 reward and still can't find her? Well, I wonder why. How many friends have you gotten Tatty Bear?
Back to the topic, she has no excuse but only our "bravo!" She peed on your front door. What you might not know is not only that she peed on your front door but that she also put salt to your $400 bottles of wine and pepper in your BJ imitator.
Did you feel the wine a little saltier and the realistic plastic mouth a little hotter than usual? It's her, heh!
The thing is, truly, we neither have an issue with you nor your show as much as with Oprah Winfrey. We understand everybody needs to pay mortgage so that's fine. Say whatever stupid the advertisers love their listeners to hear. No big deal. We also thought what you said about women throwing themselves on you and getting tossed away off your bed the same night were true because there were a lot of hot women that imagine themselves being with ugly guys out there. It's just for some reason a very hot sexual fantasy for us. Don't ask me. I don't know why. We sometimes also dream of being raped by monkeys and buffalos and masturbate with King Kong comics in hand too. Yeah, I know. Girls are sick.
We didn't expect you meant you actually live in a 1.5 million house (3 million as you claimed is the asking price, true market value is 1.5 million, ahem..., I'll email you a CMA but home owners, the market has crashed...) by yourself only jerking off in your spectacular wine celler by your poinsettia in your pocket pussy. We didn't expect your using "money, fame, power" to scam women for free sex was only your hallucination until we saw all those tasteless craps in your house, 13 security cameras and a bunch of sex toys.
13 security cameras? Who is the insecure soul in your so secured house full of so many security cameras there? I'm thinking you because you claimed you chose to live alone after you kicked your last woman out. If you know you are loved, if you know people don't hate you, why do you need 13 cameras in your house? How does it feel to live alone on guard for the disgust against you that you are pathetically aware of 24/7 with your lonely 13 security cameras? I must ask cuz you repeatedly announce you choose to live that way every fucking weekday evening on the radio in Los Angeles. It's fucking annoying everytime our radio tuner gets lost then scans through your channel, your voice that sounds a little bit like a pig's starts advertising that Honda dealer in Van Nuys. Yeah right. If you're so sure, why on earth do you still have to convince the world, i.e., convince yourself that your show is not just a lie to your immature fan club?
My guess is if you're really good in getting laid, you won't do a show about how to get laid to get laid. Doing it is the same logic as that of some idiotic internet-based pyramid scheme. Sign another five guys up for an ipod. Who's stupid here?
We know our heroine embarassed you big time. If she's not a girl, you won't even make such a big fucking deal out of it because that will become just some kid from the block commiting vandalism. But because she's a chick wearing a short skirt and knee high boots, your "playerhood" is seriously threatened, right? A chick that publicly challenges you with her chick pee. She painfully reminds you of the fact that the person who goes into your secured territory and pees there isn't a coward, but you are one yourself, right? She pressed your button, right?
Tom, I think she blew you up this time. Oh sheesh, where're you dear?
A Downtown Chickpea