THIS edition of SkullFuckingGame.com is being brought to you by this goddamned BOOK: A LONG SLOW SCREW...] writ by a Friend of SkullGame what's gonna make us all rich.
When pro fighter JAKE SHIELDS asked ITALIAN SAL PACINO if the aforementioned book was about GANGBANGS, Sal looked pensive for a moment before finally saying, "I really don't know."
SKULLGAME PLEADS WITH A PUBLIC LARGELY UNCONCERNED ABOUT BRITNEY SPEARS: JUST LEAVE HER ALLLLOOOOONNNEEEE!!!!!
HOTTUBBING WHILE HIGH? THE ULTIMATE HOTTUBBING HIGH!?!?
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- "Troubled" "singer" BRITNEY SPEARS shocked onlookers by launching into a bizarre outburst in court on Friday that was neither lipsynched, nor was it headshaved. The singer and her ex-husband Kevin Federline were appearing at Los Angeles Superior Court early on Friday afternoon to testify at the latest hearing in the custody battle over their two children.
Spears was given permission to see Sean Preston, 2, and Jayden James, 1, this weekend, but not before storming out of the hearing reportedly yelling, "Eat it! Lick it! Snort it! [Bleep] it!"
Mark Kaplan, Federline's lawyer, confirmed Spears was permitted time with her kids, saying "Eat it! Lick it! Snort it! [Bleep] it! The children will remain with Mr. Federline over the weekend, although the court did allow Miss Spears to spend time with them."
Spears lost physical custody of her sons on October 11. The judge is taking the case under consideration and has issued no ruling. A written ruling is expected early this week.
AND FROM earlier in the week.....
ITALIAN SAL BATTLES BACK CHARGES OF "CREEPY DOUCHEBAGGERY" WITH PRIMER ON LYING TO GET ASS. PLUS: LINDSAY LOHAN SCORES WITH REALITY SHOW ABOUT CREEPY DOUCHEBAG, BRITNEY NOT GUILTY OF BEING DRUNK WHILE DRIVING DRUNK & RED SOX WIN, DEVIL HELPS
AND with the EXOTIC & the EROTIC celebration of HALLOWEEN well upon us, us here at SkullGame have/are giving some serious thought to how and as what we're gonna join the festivities.
AND, YUP...WE'RE LEANING HEAVILY TOWARD: POPEYE.
LINDSAY LOHAN'S FAMILY OF DYSFUNCTIONAL MICK DRUNKS TO PLAY DYSFUNCTIONAL MICK DRUNKS. "ALWAYS AFTER ME LUCKY CHARMS," SAYS OTHER BROADLY DRAWN IRISH STEREOTYPE.
BIRDS OF A COCK-SUCKING FEATHER FUCKING FLOCK TOGETHER.
LOS ANGELES [where the fuck ELSE?!?] (SkullGame) -- LINDSAY LOHAN's fucked-up family has "signed up" to "star" in their own fucked-up "reality" TV show. The Osbournes-style program will mainly feature dragon lady Dina Lohan and her talentless singer/actress daughter Ali, but Lindsay will be making a few cameo appearances as "The High Relation."
Filming for the series, which will be shown on E!, is set to begin on Oct. 30 in New York where Los Angeles apparently sends all of its garbage now. Dina Lohan will be at the center of the action and will serve as executive producer in an effort to pimp her daughter for every last fucking nickel to be had for keeping her in the style to which she's become accustomed: eating potatoes and drinking whisky. The show will also follow the Lohan matriarch as she "attempts" to "manage" other "performers'" "careers." Because she's done such a good job with her own. Who? Oh, no, nevermind.
She tells People, "It's about what I do when I'm not drinking and about how you can be successful at parenting and drinking, and be a single mom and fulfilling your kids' dreams and shit like that. It's a very short show."
"It won't just be following my fucked-up family around like other shows. It'll show me cultivating careers, going to soccer practice, and cultivating careers of young soccer playing boys. Ali going to school and in the studio. It'll encompass everything. The drinking, the driving, the boozing, the tippling, the sipping, the imbibing, the chugging, the lugging, everything. Lindsay is a fucked-up family member and will lend a helping hand, driving for ice and such, she has so much 'energy', if Ali asks her, when she's in the recording studio. We just want it to be real."
Sure, sure, you do.
CRIME NOT AGAINST THE LAW ANYMORE IN LOS ANGELES: LEASTWAYS NOT INSOFAR AS IT CONCERNS FAT, DRUNKEN SLUT BRITNEY SPEARS.
"WHITE MAN, RISE UP!!!" BRITNEY'S SKINHEAD DOLL HIT FOR HOLIDAY SEASON.
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- BRITNEY SPEARS has escaped a misdemeanor hit-and-run charge, after it was dismissed in a California court in a ruling hailed as being nothing but ground-breaking: all crime is now not criminal in the state of California...if you've been on TV more than twice for anything other than looting.
And the star, who "allegedly" smashed into a parked car in a private parking lot in the San Fernando Valley on August 6 in Los Angeles while driving without a valid license, but WITH a gun, a bindle of white powder widely suspected of being either roach powder or meth, and a bottle of Southern Comfort. In her mouth. Has been found, as a result of her 7th TV appearance in 2007, NOT guilty of having any of her crimes be crimes.
Earlier this month, Spears impressed the vehicle's owner Kim Robard-Rifkin, and everyone else in California apparently, by offering a personal apology and $1,000 in compensation, which caused the charges to be dismissed in a Van Nuys court.
Spears' lawyer J. Michael Flanagan says Robard-Rifkin "is very sympathetic toward Britney and hopes the best for her. And her $1000."
ITALIAN SAL PACINO'S PRIMER ON PAYING FOR PUSSY WITH BIG, GIANT NON-TRUTHS
WHY SAL LEFT JERSEY: A POPULARIZED UNDERSTANDING OF HIS ELEMENTAL NATURE
How far would I go? Pretty fucking far. The one thing I have noticed about lying for pussy is how widespread it really is. So in that respect this story could either be really good, or not good at all. So, since bullshitting for cooze runs so rampant, I am going to concentrate solely on the biggest lies ever told for pussy: Mine…
“That is such a pretty shirt.”
Stated with faintest hint of queerness in the voice. That’s how the wolf talks his way into the hen house. This one I met right on Powell Street; I was torn between commenting on the shoes or the blouse and picked the shoes in a bid to not appear too gay. I know that there is certain level of gayness these girls will gravitate to, and swishing Liberace, hand holding sissy is not one of them.
Such is the depth of this lie; this lie not only conveys what I want but what she wants. Whoever that she may be. It’s all about the psychology of fag haggotry and the need for someone, in this respect the woman with the shirt; to be in really, really close proximity to… How do I put this? Those of the bone smuggling ilk.
But I digress I spoke to her all of 10 minutes, about lots of things that women and homosexuals find interesting. I had no problem pulling it off since I have an inordinate amount of friends who are… Well, like I said before, of the bone smuggling ilk. We talked about theatre, fashion, fucking movies I would never ever watch if it were not for the fact that it may get me some pussy at the mere mention of it, talked about the gym and how guys at the 24 hour Fitness in the Castro are so much better looking than the ones on Van Ness, just two hens clucking away.
But in the back of my mind only the prize existed. I knew I was in, my pseudo queerness got me past her defenses, defenses all attractive hetero women have worked years at cultivating. So here I am holding my head just so reaching over and touching her arm, you know to convey how very important a certain point that I was making was. And every time I touched her became eyes were like pie plates focused on every bullshit word that came out of my mouth, and the gay Trojan horse was what got me here.
The next step was crucial now after leaving her back on Powell with her phone burning a hole in my pocket I knew what had to be done, do I, behave like a straight guy and wait a week to call? Or… Do I behave like one of the girls and call her the next day? I cut the baby in half and call after 3 days. I decided to call her at work, to kind of keep the call short. Told her all about my trip to Bed Bath and Beyond, where my “friend” and me looked at window coverings and some things that fit my bathrooms “theme.” On the phone I was a shameless camouflage queer, so much so that even sitting at my desk I found myself crossing my legs and holding my head tipped to the side in a way that nearly caused me to give up the ruse entirely worrying that I may in fact turn gay. But the plan was working perfectly, the conversation about shopping, decorating and all things domicile had turned the conversation into the direction of her coming over and her making the invitation herself. We had settled on that Saturday, she would come by and see what I was doing with the place.
I keep my apartment very neat and super gay for just this very reason. I have lots of artwork on the walls; a curio in which each shelve has a different theme of knick-knacks all expensive and all gay. The bathroom is also the gayest thing ever. It has a dolphin theme. Dolphin shower curtain, dolphin throw rug and shelves with lots of different dolphin statues of varying size. This is either the bathroom of 13-year old girl or an unrepentant homosexual.
Am I ashamed? Not even a little.
She got there just after seven PM, just as I had planned I was cooking at the time, I was wearing an extra small Tee shirt and, god forgive me, a pair of Daisy Duke shorts. I showed her around the small yet impeccably kept apartment before getting back to my domestic duties as “gay” cook extraordinaire all the while scaling back the gayness. Knowing that this needed to be done just right, it needed to be done in way she would notice yet not notice what she was noticing. After we had dinner we sat at opposite ends of the couch. We talked about the gym and tanning and how I avoid tan lines by using the tanning bed in the nude. She laughed I laughed and she asked to see my tan lines. I stood up taking off my super tight tee shirt and unbuttoning my daisy dukes to reveal the patch of skin that’s halfway between the outside of my thigh and my schlong. I was close now, so close. I was having no luck concealing my erection at this point. All part of my plan, 10 minutes after the playful strip tease Mister Willy makes his appearance and it was all her idea, well at least she thought it was.
It had all been choreographed, scripted, from the comment on the blouse when we first met, to the topic of the phone call all the way to what I wore and what I was doing when she came over.
All a big fucking lie. Am I ashamed, not even a little.
YOUR LONG NATIONAL NIGHTMARE is fucking OVER. Forthwith, the debut of the NEWEST SkullGame game on the block: PIMP HAND
NOT A STILL FROM THE ACTUAL GAME PIMP HAND BUT AN ACTUAL STILL FROM A U.S. GOVERNMENT TRAINING FILM FOR PIMPS THAT WAS TO GIVE OUR BRAVE BOYS AT THE FRONT THAT EXTRA EDGE THEY NEEDED WHEN THEY GOT TO VIETNAM.
