The Hacker Infiltrates rukkle
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The following story has been published by the hacker. Do not read this if you’re easily offended. You’ll find something much nicer by clicking here
URGENT: THIS MESSAGE COULD SAVE CHARLIE SHEENS LIFE!
Lets face it kids, you know it and I know it and 2.5 million twitter followers know it… Charlie Sheen is a man who likes to pleasure himself!
He`s doing it in the walk-in STD clinic that is his LA mansion, he’s doing it on the flyblown dirty mattresses of pay by the hour motel rooms and now I’m guessing his barbiturate pickled gonads are searching for relief through a different kind of stimulation to gain orgasm… the verbal masturbatory phenomena that is ‘the bizarre internet rant’ (take my word from it, it works!) Charlie is pleasuring himself over the media world in bizarre soliloquies from the couches of slightly terrified looking sycophantic TV reporters, leaving sticky patches across the blogosphere. Each sound bite ejaculates out of our computer screens, iPods and HDTV’s and slashes right in our faces and I for one kids, am getting sick of having to wipe it off! How long can this train wreck last?
In his latest desperate cry for publicity, oh, sorry… ‘justice’, the attention whore has advertised for a personal intern on a popular website, rather optimistically saying the job will run for 8 weeks. Rather optimistic seeing as I currently give Colonel Gadafi a longer life expectancy than Mr Sheen (another squeaky clean product you could plug Charlie?) He lists the following qualities required for his intern; hard-working, self-motivated, creative, resourceful and social media savvy.
We all know what he really needs is a shameless meth monkey with a liberal attitude to personal hygiene, whose willing to degrade themselves to ancient Roman levels for money… immunity to gonorrhea is of course optional. So, Congratulations Charlie Sheen, save yourself what’s left of your dwindling fortune… you actually have the potential to become your own intern!
Now don’t get me wrong, potentially this is a guy I would worship, however he’s devoid of the humility of Robert Downey Jr or the down home charm of Britney. Rather than maintaining some movie star mystique or imparting some pearls of wisdom (like how to effectively pleasure a troop of hookers, porn stars, ex-wives and nannies whilst rubbing your tummy and patting your head) he instead launches out school girl self righteous preachy vitriol as fast as his toothless crack whore mouth can manage.
What shocks me most is not his wild eyed rambling antics or the fact that he looks like Stevie Wonder dresses him each morning in the dark using the contents of Ke$has dumpster, it’s the fact that you can tell he genuinely thinks we care! His deranged crack addled brain has shrunk so far beyond the size of a raisin that he thinks in a world where millions are dying in famines, civil wars and from beiber fever that what he has to say to releave his latest bout of verbal diarrhea is something we should take a moment out from our lives to ponder upon. As my dear old mother always say, “empty vessels make the most noise”, but then again, she’s hardly an authority we can trust as I’m pretty sure she’s slept with him too.
So, from one sex addict internet ranter to another, I’ve some advice for you Chuck… you are not indispensable, you are not a neurosurgeon, a school teacher or a marine in Afghanistan… your job was to pretend to be other people by reading words on pages. Put down that crack pipe, pull up that hookers thong and get your act together or the only hookers you’ll be servicing will be the ones who come in to the McDonalds on Hollywood Boulevard to buy a happy meal from you so they can use the customers only bathroom facilities to give themselves a douche!
KYLIE: TEARS AND TIGHT ASSES
Kylie Minogue… guys love her, gays and gals want to be her. When I hear her electro pop pixie vocals even I’ve been known to occasionally tuck my member between my legs Silence Of The Lambs style, don my feather boa and dance around the lonely dimly lit empty beer-can strewn den that is The Hackers office, tears smearing my glitter mascara and running in to my five o’clock shadow as I wonder where it all went wrong.
So it broke the swinging breeze block which passes for my heart when I heard Kylie had been moved to tears when asked in a TV interview about her courageous battle with breast cancer.
This is a woman who epitomizes the manifesto of International Women’s day. Kylie is a woman who despite her diminutive stature has more guts than the steroid fueled ego junkies of professional sportsmen who implode at the slightest sign of strife.
Kylie is a woman who despite her global super success she has not disappeared up her own perfectly formed arse like some flash in the pan celebrities who need eleven different changes of clothing to do a radio interview, yet still can’t shed the feeling that maybe they are just pale imitations’ of archetypes from their childhood.
Kylie is a woman who despite having to face her own very real and painful mortality didn’t resort to the vacuous tough talk and playground bully bravado of the gangsta rapper, who with all his gun totting music videos would probably soil his pants if he heard a passing cars engine backfire.
In honour of the past International Womens Day Ms Minogue, The Hacker salutes you!