HABIB recently wrote the following strangely homo-erotic screed:
"Ross found this little ditty on Craigslist yesterday. I'm
confused. I don't get it. But I know it's gay."
Title: Need Str8 Jack Off Bud - m4m - 28
Reply to: anon-53090922@craigslist.org
RANDY CROSS AND TERRELL OWENS PICTURED ABOVE, UM, FOR NO REASON. NOOOOO REASON AT ALL....
Normal goodlooking guy looking for a str8 white JO bud who gets into str8
porn and JO. Hit me up with stats and a pic.
this is in or around Sacramento
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other likewise-fagged out
commercial interests as he's highly, highly, highly closeted. A homo-in-hiding if you fucking will.
"A jackoff buddy? I mean what the fuck kind of faggotry is this? Jacking off with another dude present is gay. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I sure as fuck haven't. Hopefully this guy responds to my email calling him a 'faggot' 100 times."
That wacky fucking repressed Islamic homo Habib.
PORN SLUT GIA PALOMA OVERDOSES ON MY MANMEAT. AND METH. AND COKE. AND K. AND E. AND H. BUT MOSTLY MANMEAT. VEGAS CROWDS CLAIM, "ME TOO."
GIA PICTURED HERE WITH HER MOMMA, HER DADDY, THAT NIGGA IN THE ALLEY. AHHH, THE NIGHT IS YOUNG....
LAS VEGAS (SkullGame) -- In the clearest cut case of "what happens here, stays here," being a pack of unadulterated fucking bullshit lies insofar as hospital visits, Motel 6's, and slob-knobbins are concerned, GIA PALOMA'S recent AVN-related OD didn't noticeably manage to stay anywhere near here, especially if here is anywhere outside of Motel 6. And anywhere at all away from SkullGame news wires.
Because, you see, the Best New Starlet nominee Gia suffered a cocaine overdose at the Venetian's popular Circle Bar Friday night where we had hustled her inert body after it seemed particularly inopportune to be caught with a dead ho in our very expensive Motel 6 penthouse suite. While she said she thought the coke may have been mixed with something else, "I couldn’t tell you how much I did, I really couldn’t," we're just glad she didn't remember us, our room, or our names.
...AND ALMOST FUCKING OVER. COME ON BACK NOW. WE'LL LEAVE THE LIGHT ON FOR YOU.
Paloma later said she wasn’t paying much attention to the appearance of the narcotic, but she did notice that there seemed to be little flaky crystals, making her suspect it was mixed with crystal methamphetamine. A drug expert we spoke to named US said it was more likely “glass,” adding that we was not sure why people who ain't us used it because it reportedly feels like “sticking a drill up your nose” when snorted. "Meth burns," we said, “but glass feels like the fires of hell are burning through your nose. Some people, like us, just like to get high. It’s surprisingly popular at Motel 6.”
AND APROPOS OF JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING, IT'S ANOTHER ASK A GUY WHO HATES YOU, COURTESY OF JIMMY THE FUCKING G
YEAH, THAT'S A GREAT SHIRT YOU'RE WEARING. ASSHOLE.
DEAR "GUY WHO HATES YOU": I'm 19, blonde, gorgeous, 36C-24-34, and a HUGE Depeche Mode fan. Before a concert, I asked one of the guys setting up their equipment if I could meet the band. He said that if I blew the whole road crew, I could spend the rest of the night with the band, after the show. So I must have sucked over 12 penises, which made me miss the entire set and encore. Then, to top it all off, I was told that the band was waiting to meet me, right through a door that led outside. I was locked out, and never got to meet my favorite band. Is there anything I can do? -- Desperate Monica
ARE YOU SUUURRREEEE DON HO IS PLAYING HERE TONIGHT???
DEAR A LIFETIME OF UNREMUNERATED RIMJOBS:
I don't think you have a case for anything but a reality check. The silver lining to your cloud of scorn is that you got further than most of the millions of teenage puppets who juice over these eurosexuals. To put it bluntly, you smoked the wrong poles. And I ain't talking about guys named Piszko. Yeah, you smoked the wrong poles. Which is not to say you shouldn't have helped out those noble knights of the road with any and all means at your disposal. They just didn't have the pull required to complete a quim-pro-quo arrangement right away.
Next time, try to barter for a little extra backstage time by showing more enthusiasm, and more orifices. You might be surprised at what that bonus booty gets you. Groupies can't hold ANYTHING back - that's their sole purpose for being backstage. Knowing all the lyrics, their favorite colors, etc. isn't what gets you in their pants, since that knowledge was gained by sluts that came, sucked, and comforted before you.
But if you still really want to meet Deepak Chopra, you can--by sucking and fucking yours truly. See, I go way back with the Deep Ass boys. Mickey, Peter, Justin, Ringo and I all go fishing twice a year down off Key West. Just between you and me, I think they're all gay, but if anyone can get them to switch, it's you!
Really, blowing a dozen roadies is the surest way to build up your ho rep, and I bet all the men around you keep you up on a pedestal. So bring your lips down to Casa Skull, and I'll do my best to arrange a meet and greet with the famous Culture Club. Promise.
