Mel Gibson

I don’t normally bother myself with fluff stories from TMZ. However, because there have been a disproportionate amount of women in my life who wanted Mel Gibson instead of me, I feel it’s my obligation to remind women that I am a gentle creature, capable of only goodness and French poetry. Mel Gibson, on the other hand, is a goddamn orangutan who needs to either be locked up or sent back through a Stargate to the Dark Ages.

Listen to this menace to South Central:

“I need a woman, not a fucking little girl with a fucking dysfunctional cunt. I need a fucking woman. I don’t need medication. You need a fucking bat to the side of the head. All right? How about that? You need a fucking doctor. You need a fucking brain transplant. You need a fucking … you need a fucking soul.”

This man is a goddamn animal who needs to be experimented on. He needs to have AquaNet sprayed into his eyes and his brain needs to be hooked up to a car battery. And there should be weird, uncomfortable tests involving things placed inside his anal cavity. They need to make this monkey scream so loud that the rest of the abusive, white trash pieces of shit from here to Timbuk Three understand that we love our women. We sprinkle them with jewels, or bedazzle beads if we’re low on cash. They need to be protected, and doused with fine aromas from the Far East. This isn’t over yet. Oh no, you half-queer retard. We’ll see how tough your mighty circle of Jesus fire is when it crashes against the snow-capped peaks of The Matterhorn.

Why? Mel Gibson? Can you not communicate with me? Talk to me, Mel Gibson, as if I were the God you speak of! There is nothing covering what I live for, Mel Gibson. I need not the normal to protect me from what I find most comforting: THE CHALLENGE OF PAIN! And the smell of combat. I have injected you with the minimum dosage of poison from the power of the Ultimate Warrior! But the antibodies of Mel Gibson continue to refuse what the poison can do. They turn it away. They turn the poison away! To where they fear the dirty. They FEAR the evil. I am the representation of all your fear. I want you to be the warrior you say you are. For I can accept no less. GIVE NO LESS TO THE WARRIOR! Walk with me, Mel Gibson, to the edge (whispered with intensity). Look, Mel Gibson– look into nothingness! Look beyond your fears.

Kick down the cockpit door. Remove the pilot… who has already made the ultimate sacrifice. Grab the controls. Shove the controls into a nose dive. And soon you will be close to parts unknown.