 KIM KARDASHIAN AND THE COLOR OF LOVE
Ever since I was a small boy, my fondest wish was to videotape myself, an aspiring R&B singer, urinating on the improbably busty daughter of a prominent lawyer. Don't get me wrong, as the son of a banker, I knew any number of lawyer's daughters as a kid. I also have a pretty weak bladder.
The problem was the videotape. You see, it wasn't widely available in the early to mid-Seventies. It wasn't so much the actual peeing on the lawyer's daughter that was the problem for me - I had peed on many people by the time I was six, and countless more since - it was the documentation thereof that was the challenge.
It just seems that I was born before my time. By the time I was ten, I accepted that my dream was just that, a youthful fancy, the dream of a child…much like unicorns, God and love. Not for me the night-vision video cameras that would allow me to properly record the carnal gratification of a hospiltality heiress for posterity. If only the technology to record the hanging of a dictator with a telephone existed when I was in high school, things might have been so much different. The cruellest dreams of all are the dreams denied.
Now here I am, lonely and broken of heart, waving my fist from the porch at the youth who enjoy the dreams that should have been mine. At the tender age of 36, I am reduced to this. But enough of my ruination, I physically ache when I speak of it too long.
Kim Kardashian, it appears, was born at precisely the right time for people who share my age-old dream, yet aren't burdened by actually being me. Kim, you see, is used to fame and fabulous wealth. Her father is the foot-noteworthy legal eagle and pseudo-celebrity corpse Robert.
 The best way to describe Bob Kardashian is as the somewhat more refined Dr. Gonzo to Simpson's slightly more violent Raoul Duke. See? Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas really is a book adequate to describe anything in life! Unfortunately, Bobby K never said anything as profound and important as "As your attorney, I advise you not to butcher your wife and that waiter." But life would have been much less entertaining if he had.
Some of my more legally inclined readers might remember Robert Kardashian as a member of O.J Simpson’s fabled "Dream Team" during his 1995 trial for slicing and dicing Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. Kardashian was indeed a member, but only in the most vulgar sense of the word. But he didn't do anything untoward, like actually question a witness or deliver an opening or closing argument.
To understand this better, I give you a snippet of his Wikipedia biography; Robert Kardashian was a defense lawyer in the trial of O.J. Simpson. When O.J. and Al Cowlings returned from Chicago following the murder of his wife, Robert Kardashian met him at the airport and handled his luggage, some of which was never seen again. In the days following the murder, O.J. Simpson stayed in Kardashian's house.
When O.J. Simpson failed to turn himself in at 11 a.m. on June 17, Kardashian, a friend of Simpson, then read a rambling letter by Simpson to the collected media. In the letter Simpson said, "First everyone understand I had nothing to do with Nicole's murder.... Don't feel sorry for me. I've had a great life." To many this sounded like a suicide note and the reporters then actively joined the search for Simpson. This would make Kardashian the Elder what is known in thehighly technical parlance of the law as a "witness." Or "accomplice." Whichever you prefer is fine. I’m not sure if you know this, but people who have just killed two folks tend to say and do weird shit in the days following said murdery. Being that O.J was Bobby K's own Kato Kaelin after said stabbery and slashery, one can safely assume that the Juice did and said such weird shit in Kardashian's presence. After all, he hasn't stopped since. How best then to avoid Bob getting subpeonaed and being forced to tell the tale of life with O.J in the week after the murders? Well, the simplest thing to do would be to hire him, right? After all, he was a lawyer. Not quite. Turns out that Kardashian wasn’t very dilligent in paying his bar fees and his lisence to practice had expired three years prior. He had as much legal standing in California as I did. And I was there as a lover, not a lawyer. I trust everyone knows the story from there. You might have to do some independent research, though. The media didn’t really pay much attention to Simpson’s criminal trial. News about it was very hard to come by. I wish someone would write a book about it…. But it appears that little Kim paid very close attention. So close that she's been looking for an O.J to call her own ever since. And doing a piss poor job of it, too. Is there anyone out there that honestly sees Nick Lachey or Diddy as being even remotely threatening? O.J must feel sorry for her. Or is laughing his ass off. Despite anything else you might think of him, Simpson has the life.
 The closest Kim seems to have come to finding the bad boy of her dreams appears to be the anonymous singer/actor Ray J. Being more famous for the people you’re related to (Ray is the brother of Brandy and cousin of Snoop Dog) than anything that you've done on your own can create something of a bad attitude. There's a lot of potential in a guy like that for Miss K. In the age of portable high-technology, a bad attitude has new and continually fascinating ways of expressing itself. This may or may not include pissing on the big-titted progeney of a celebrated sort-of attorney for the camera. If there’s anything to be learned on Martin Luther King Day, it is the many ways that impotence, social and otherwise, may express itself. One of those might just be the sweetest relief of all. And that rebellion may provide unexpected money-making opportunities, ironically enough, for the pee-ee. You see, Kim Kardashian, like her slutty mentor, Paris Hilton and Screech before her, has a fuck-tape all her own.
Paris Hilton's bff Kim Kardashian has denied she made a sex tape with her R&B singer ex, Ray J. So why are they trying to sell one?
We spoke to a gentleman who says he viewed the tape and that it is being brokered for the very Dr. Evil price of one meeellion dollars. "It's your typical graphic sex tape," he says. We'll spare you the exact description (you can probably guess), but he did say "there's a golden shower at the end." If you don't see the profit potential of your own urine-stained degradation, you'll never Get Ahead In Business Without Even Trying. And that, my friends, is the real story behind how that video of me in a sundress, wetting myself as I giggled girlishly came to despoil Al Gore's puritan Interwebs. Turns out that I was Kim Kardashian before she was. Education is a motivating thing for both Kim and Ray. So is making a boatload of money. However, if you're as borderline anonymous as they are, you need to have a compelling lesson if you expect others to listen. They have found one. Specifically, that love, like most things, is even stinkier after you've eaten peas. And they want you to see how in technicolor. After of course they get the aforementioned one million dollars. Pedagogery comes at a price, after all. I will say that Team Kardashian has a brilliant understanding of how human psychology works, particularly for someone who aspires to be little more that the big-tittled urinal of a guy no one has ever heard of. They know that pornography only gains in appeal if its stars are ashamed of its existence. That's how a customer knows that it's good. There aren't many products that are most effectively marketed by denying its very existence, but pornography is one of them. That knowlege leads me to confidently predict that Kimmy K has a bright future ahead of her a businesswoman.
 As an unnaturally endowed girl of considerable beauty, Miss Kardashian is precisely the kind of woman that men everywhere would spend their hard earned money to see receive a Golden Shower. That's just how men operate, you can accept it or not, but you will never change it. The obvious problem is her choice of co-star. There's something about seeing someone from the cast of Moesha who isn't Brandy emptying their bladder on the nude form of a buxom sub-girl that gets me something less than fully hard. I can't be the only one who sees this as a job for Webster, can I? On the other hand, I might be too sentimental to be successful. You wouldn't be the first to make that observation. Regardless of his prowess as a R&B stylist and a cocksman, Ray J is no R. Kelly and it is folly to pretend otherwise. The master is not easily challenged, either in innovation or stream. However, I doubt there'll be any confusion between Ray J and R. Kelly. I know this because Kim Kardashian is 100% too old for the latter and just the right age for every other man in the universe. There are some women so attractive that a gentleman just loses control of his bladder around them. Then there are women whose personalities compel you to urinate on them. I imagine that Jennifer Lopez would be in the latter category. I don't know enough about Kim Kardashian's personality to make an informed judgement, but by looking at her body, I know that I wouldn't go on a date with her without drinking at least four gallons of water first. But we all know how attentive I am, don't we? Truth be told, urine isn't my first choice of the body fluids I prefer marinade a young lady in, but if Kim's into it, I'm game. Just look at that ass, why don't you? I could eat my wedding cake off of that ass and savour its creamy center for days afterward. If a little humiliation is what Miss Kardashian craves, then it is a little humiliation I shall give her. And I'm not dusky enough for her tastes, I'll piss on her in blackface. I'm nothing if not an old-school, Ted Danson breed of gentleman. It would be wrong, however, to suggest that Kim's entire entourage is supportive of this business endeavor. That model of screaming "firecrotch," ineffective rehab and all-American obesity, Brandon Davis, had some unkind things to say about it. Amusingly, the voice of reason in the whole situation could be Hilton comedy supporting cast member Brandon Davis. "He called her and berated her for doing the tape," says the source. "He said it's not a good idea." I hate to be the one to break this to you, but if you seek out an unemployable billionaire fatass for career advice, you might actually be retarded. Furthermore, if you belong to a social circle that considers Brandon Davis "the voice of reason," I'd suggest that you all be gassed to death. Except for the one with the big tits who likes getting peed on. Her, I can work with. The others? Fuck 'em. Let's get Darfur on their asses. All I want to know is, can we throw Tara Reid into the slaughterhouse, too? I know that she isn't friends with these people, but if we must butcher the stupid, we should get them all in one fell swoop, But I'm going off on another tangent, aren't I? I do that sometimes.  Sure, there are some people who want to pee on Kim Kardashian just because she's the daughter of O.J's best friend. But I'm pretty sure that that isn't the reason Ray J peed on her. I think he emptied his bladder on her as the tape rolled as an act of love. As a matter of fact, I look forward to seeing this tape as I have a theory on this. There's really nothing lewd about it. In fact, I think it's rather romantic. And practical. To wit, I think you can learn a lot about how a man feels about a woman from the way he befouls her. For example, if a man takes a woman to his unfinished basement to piss on her, she should know that he sees her as nothing more than a one-night stand. But if he takes her to the bathroom and lovingly lays her in the tub, where she may quickly wash off, she should instinctively know that she's found her soul mate. I also think that a man's level of commitment can be properly measured by the color and force of his stream. If the stream is translucent and weak, a girl should know that he's just using her. But if I were peeing on, say De or Joan, it would seem as though they were hit by a firehose of standing water, so powerful and almost black would it be. Because that's what love is like, baby. That's what love is like. And that's how strong my love is. Of course, I do recognize the flaw in my theory . If I'm right, it isn't too much of a stretch to suggest that the entire world is deperately in love with me, so soaked and smelly am I from some four decades of experience with its expressions of affection. So until I'm convinced that the whole universe eats peas whilst thinking of me, I don't recommend that you try this at home. Unless you're some kind of fucking daredevil, in which case, you're on your own. Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Don't Eat The Yellow Snow By: Frank Zappa From: ApostrophePermalink
Labels: Celebrity Skin, I'm Through With Love, The Girls of Porn
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