Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Mark your calendars
September 17th is the most important day of the year. Why, you ask? Because the trial of the century begins that day. Bigger than O.J., bigger than Scott Peterson, bigger than Ken Lay, bigger than fucking Nuremburg, bigger than ANYTHING ELSE IN THE HISTORY OF CRIMINAL JUSTICE. This case involves witnesses named Sparkle, watersports, and a defendant who is black, handsome, who sings, plus he's rich, and he's a flirt.
It is the day that Robert Sylvester Kelly, the self-proclaimed "Pied Piper of R&B" (in hindsight, that was probably the most inadvisable nickname for himself he could have chosen short of Humbert Humbert, The Mary Kay LeTourneau of R&B, or Minor-fucker) faces up to the 14 counts of child pornography he is being charged with. Per the Chicago Tribune, the judge finally announced the trial date. Since that's a mere six days after my other boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson's self-titled album Curtis drops (right in time to make a perfect 9/11 gift), I'll pretty much resign myself to going out of my mind with excitement that entire week.
Not that I'm worried for Kells's cocksucker red fur-clad hotness. Anyone who read my crack legal analysis of the case knows that not only is Nancy Grace sweating with fear that I might usurp her as one of the greatest legal analysts EVER (and I didn't even go to law school), but that the man who put the R-uh in R&B is going to be so totally acquitted. On September 17, 2007 justice is finally going to be served, in the form of a "not guilty, now go make more awesome outer space, jungle, home electronics, dessert, automotive, clothing, faux thug, astrology, marijuana, answering machine recording, or epicurean-themed songs about effectively working the first-class hips of strippers and gold-digging whores" verdict.
Not that I'm worried for Kells's cocksucker red fur-clad hotness. Anyone who read my crack legal analysis of the case knows that not only is Nancy Grace sweating with fear that I might usurp her as one of the greatest legal analysts EVER (and I didn't even go to law school), but that the man who put the R-uh in R&B is going to be so totally acquitted. On September 17, 2007 justice is finally going to be served, in the form of a "not guilty, now go make more awesome outer space, jungle, home electronics, dessert, automotive, clothing, faux thug, astrology, marijuana, answering machine recording, or epicurean-themed songs about effectively working the first-class hips of strippers and gold-digging whores" verdict.
Labels: boyfriends, crime and punishment, Robert Sylvester Kelly, sexual assault
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I hope he swings by his punk-ass neck from the highest tree until his eye are pecked out by crows and his body separates from his head making a pile or bloody red fux fur and shit stink from his last meal of Cherrios which he snatched from the hands of his last victim. What did he do anyway?
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# posted by 
: 8/02/2007 1:11 AM
: 8/02/2007 1:11 AM Links to this post:
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