SKULLGAME Newsflash...
BEYONCE KNOWLES...HOTTEST WHITE WOMAN IN AMERICA, AMERICA SAYS!!!
RED BEANS & RICE AIN'T MISSED HER!!!
AMERICA (SkullGame) -- BEYONCE KNOWLES has been named the world's number one fantasy girlfriend in a new Internet poll of people who have no idea that she is technically Black.
The pop superstar beat stunner sluts like JESSICA ALBA and SCARLETT JOHANSSON to claim the top spot in the AskMen.com list to find the Top 99 Most Desirable Bitches of 2007.
More than 8.5 million people with penises took part in the global vote. With their penises.
Other women who were voted into the top 10 included supermodel ADRIANA LIMA, ANGELINA JOLIE and Shakira. Bitches all.
AND from earlier in the week....
ANDREW NORTON, AS PORTRAYED BY JERRY STILLER, EXITS THE BAR LAST WEDNESDAY EVENING ON A MISSION TO PROTECT HIS HONOR, AND TO FURTHER SUCCEED AS SKULLGAME’S OFFICIAL “WHO WE WANT TO BE WHEN WE GROW UP” SPOKESMAN.
Disclaimer: The following is not satire, or an exercise in faux-news. The story beneath is 100% true. No embellishments have been made for the sake of comedic relief.
SAN FRANCISCO (SkullGame)--Whilst strolling around the general area of the North Beach red light district late last Tuesday night, Andrew Norton, 82, was rolled by a hooker and her strong-armed pimp for what amounted to little more than a handful of loose change, a cheap watch once given to him by his long-since deceased wife, and a ring that he estimates is “worth less than $100.” Stories such as this are as old as the hills, but not made less tragic through it's passage in time: In but a fleeting yet defining moment a kindly old man--no taller than 5 ft. 2 and bearing an uncanny resemblance to comedic sensation Jerry Stiller--goes from having almost nothing to having nothing at all.
While such events are certainly not rare in the seedier sections of large metropolitan areas, they are scarcely reported...and even more scarcely reported on. The fact is, the tale of Mr. Norton varies so little from many similar cases that, from the first blow of the short-lived scuffle, for all journalistic purposes it's amazing that it didn't forever going unnoticed.
But thankfully such wasn't the case, as there are a few components to Mr. Norton’s tale that, when added together to a sum as opposed to viewed merely as parts, are germane to a story going from a "just a story" to quite possibly the greatest story ever told.
Perhaps it is Mr. Norton’s deep understanding, and consequent command of, the English language that makes his tale so compelling to hear. After all, the voice of the storyteller is as critical of a component to the overall experience as the story being told. But to hear him relay the events of that evening is to not only become engaged in a colorful drama of modern folklore on par with the stories that have shaped American culture, but to actively participate in what may very well be viewed, many years down the road, as a cornerstone of men’s history.
Norton’s tale begins easy enough: Amidst the drizzle and fog of a San Francisco winter, a kindly old man exits an old faithful establishment almost solely frequented by long-held friends and acquaintances. Having consumed more than the recommended daily intake amount of alcoholic beverages, this old man begins working his way back to his modest one bedroom apartment deep in the heart of the City’s Tenderloin District—an area of abject poverty and squalor the likes of which urban crime tales regularly make their setting.
Walking along the corridor of the famed Red Light District in San Francisco’s North Beach neighborhood, this grandfatherly gentleman attends to his daily ritual of people-watching, perhaps due to being lost in memories of more prosperous, less solitary times; times better spent with family and friends long since gone.
It's an easy setting to imagine, especially if your definition of a man “keeping to himself, perhaps lost in memories of more prosperous, less solitary times better spent with family and friends long since past” equates to “randomly approaching prostitutes and attempting to lick their breasts while informing all and sundry that there will be no money exchanged for services tonight.”
It’s at about this point in the story when Andrew Norton reveals to his audience that they are all “stupid sonsabitches.” But this isn’t an assertion stemming from any perceived gullibility on the behalf of the listener; it’s simply an observation Andrew Norton feels justified in voicing.
“You take the left one; I’ll take the right one. Meet down in the middle. The middle’s where it’s at. Fire in the hole! If it smells like a fish you better throw it back. Especially if it smells like a mudfish. You don’t get the roses if you don’t have the mud, but we don’t want the mud. But you wouldn’t know what to do with that, would you? You stupid sonofabitch.”
Having Mr. Norton impart such words of wisdom upon you comes at a price—a price that is generally equivalent to the bar tab that he has been running up on your account while spinning his tale. A hefty shot of Drambuie in one hand, a bottle of Beck’s that will never get the opportunity to grow warm in the other, Norton is likely at any time to inform you of just how much of a “faggot” he thinks you are--but only before gleefully offering a “cheers” around the table, only before lowering both of his drinks, with trembling hands, to remind you that he thinks you are still just as much of a “stupid sonofabitch” as you were last time he felt the need to tell you.
To get the whole story from Norton in one sitting is rare, if not impossible. Unable to avert his attention from any female in eyeshot, Norton oftentimes interrupts himself to recite stanzas from T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”—sometimes to charmed responses from female audience members but, more times than not, to little more than shocked stares, agape jaws, when a half-question/ half-proclamation from Norton comes: “You’re just a goddamned lesbian, aren’t you?”
As Norton tells us: “Things are no different now than they were then. The women just had more dress to pull up. They had Catholic school back then.”
“This town has always been full of dykes.”
And then, reaching for the last of the peanuts he won as a consolation prize for getting all the answers wrong in the bar trivia contest: “You stupid sonofabitch. What would you do with that anyhow? I’ll take her, and he’ll help What are you going to do about that?”
Offering bags of marijuana to any male willing to buy him another round, and Viagra to any woman in earshot (“15 times in one night. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up”), Norton pauses from a random, and rather loud, recitation of what we believe is supposed to be Italian Opera to comment on what he perceives to be gross injustices inherent in his world--injustices to which he feels it morally imperative to offer his skills in physical intervention to solve.
“I’m not going to call the cops. She’s just a fucking whore. I’m going to kick the shit out of her though. I’m going to get my goddamn watch back if it’s the last thing I ever do. She can pay back the rest with her tits.”
STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK FOR PART II OF THE NORTON CHRONICLES: “REVENGE AND THE DRINKS AFTER.”
SKULLGAME'S EVERYBODY-DIES-IN-IRAQ ISSUE WHEREIN WE DISCUSS TYRA BANKS BEING A FAT BITCH, FROM SEMEN, NEW PARIS HILTON COCK SUCK VID HITS...ZZZZ & GEORGE CLOONEY TRIES TO DE-GAYIFY BY BONING GAYEST POSSIBLE CHOICE, THE SEMEN-STAINED PAMELA ANDERSON
AND because we sobered up early and are doing this page on Sunday we'd like to thank our brethren at the FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH of Bayview for their steadfast help, moral leadership, and incalculable aid in helping us SELL as much porno as possible.
YOU GODDAMNED RIGHT HE DOES. AND SO SHOULD YOU. BUY MORE PORN!!! BITCHES.
TYRA BANKS, BIG FRIED CHICKEN FAN, HAS GOTTEN FAT[TER]. IN HER TITS. BOTH OF THEM. NON-GAY AMERICA REJOICES.
"I THINK IT'S CRUEL FOR THEM TO SAY I'VE GOTTEN FATTER," SAYS TYRA, TEARS IN HER EYES. YEAH, YEAH, WHATEVER. WAIT. SHE'S GOT EYES?
NEW YORK (SkullGame) -- TYRA BANKS, who has gained weight since her days of strutting the catwalk, vomiting, strutting the catwalk some more, running more rails of coke than Allied Freight Lines, and strutting the catwalk even faster, says she was upset when unflattering photos showing her in a one-piece bathing suit were mocked on the Internet.
"It was such a strange meanness and rejoicing that people had when thinking that was what my body looked like. It was really hurtful to me to think that perhaps America wasn't masturbating to pictures of me with the same vigorous abandon that they once had," the 33-year-old talk-show host says in an interview in the Feb. 5 issue of People magazine.
The photos show Banks on a beach during a recent trip to Sydney, Australia. They had popped up earlier this month on a celebrity gossip Web site, SKULLGAME.COM, with the not-so-nice headline: "Tyra Banks is Fat. And She Sucks A Nice Fat Cock, Too!"
Banks, who hosts the syndicated "The Tyra Banks Show" and the CW network's "America's Next Top Model," tells the magazine she weighs 161 pounds, give or take a bucket of KFC, and has fluctuated from 8 pounds to 12 pounds per tit, depending on how well she's taking care of herself, since retiring from modeling, cocaine and vomiting in 2005.
"I don't want to sit in front of you and be soap-boxy and fake like I have been my entire career and say, 'I love myself, I'm beautiful, it's great, masturbate to my golden knockers all DAY if you like!'" says Banks, who is 5 feet 10 inches tall. "I still feel hot, and fried chicken full, but every day is different. Some days it's ribs. Other days it's red beans and rice. But it's when I put on the jeans that used to fit a year ago and don't fit now when I say, 'Damn!'"
Banks mumbled on and on about some other crap that had nothing at all to do with her tits which we hadn't stopped watching since she started whining about something or other.
PARIS HILTON'S "NEW" "SEX" VID "ACCIDENTALLY" HITS THE INTERNET. THE INTERNET, HAVING SEEN ENTIRELY ENOUGH OF HER WITH A COCK IN HER MOUTH, YAWNS. ROLLS OVER.
SAME TITS, DIFFERENT VIDEO. OH HEY, LOOK. IT'S THAT JOE FRANCIS DUDE!
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- "Girls Gone Wild" creator Joe Francis "desperately" tried to "buy" "back" "intimate" video footage he shot with hotel heiress PARIS HILTON that is now being shown on the Internet. Eespecially if by "buy" you mean "sell" to the sadly-overestimating-the-size-of-this-slut's- appeal internet geniuses at Parisexposed.com.
Hilton is considering taking legal action for a larger slice of the hairpie against the new Web site, ParisExposed.com, which features cock-in-mouth video footage and semen-drinking photos she left in a Los Angeles-based storage locker.
Francis, who was "dating" the "heiress" when they shot "private" videos, tried to get the items back, but refused to pay the millions of dollars the broker was asking for. Though he was quite happy to receive payment with points on their gross sales.
He tells E! News, "I was actually trying to negotiate to get my tapes back, but we were unsuccessful. They had asked me for $7 million bucks. I said no way would I accept less than 2 mil with 4 points on the gross take.
"At 'Girls Gone Wild' there's a reason why we get consent from people. Because we can't disseminate their image without their drunken, coked-up permission. I shot the tapes and there are pictures of me and somebody else disseminated it without my permission for less than the 2 + the 4 points.
"This was meant to be a 'private' video that I made with an eye to future sales with my 'girlfriend' at the time, who was Paris Hilton, a slut."
GEORGE CLOONEY AIN'T FOOLING NOBODY BY CHOOSING SEMEN SPONGE PAMELA ANDERSON AS HIS LATEST BEARD. AIN'T. FOOLING. NO. FUCKING. BODY.
TIME ELAPSED PHOTOGRAPHY REVEALS: IF YOU HANG AROUND IN THE BARBERSHOP LONG ENOUGH? YEAH, YOU'RE GONNA GET A HAIRCUT!
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- GEORGE CLOONEY and PAMELA ANDERSON have become Hollywood's most unlikely, emphasis on HIGHLY FUCKING UNLIKELY, couple after the pair was spotted frolicking together on a romantic, fun, private dinner date at a sidewalk table in the middle of Wilshire Blvd.
Oscar-winner Clooney then moved on to a booked private room at Sherman Oaks, Calif., restaurant the Valley Inn, and entertained the former "Baywatch" babe there on January 7, according to reports that he himself called into to combat the persistent and dogged rumors of his dick loving ways.
And since that evening, which ended with Anderson sitting on her date's lap, for the cameras, the odd couple has been spotted out and about, enjoying dog walks, and other seemingly non-sexual hetersosexual activities together.
A pal says, "George and Pam have been determined to keep this one quiet. From the press in Sri Lanka."
