CG got to thinking the other day about the things in the past decade that made him spew. There was the tremendous amounts of liquor and beer he would consume, you know that binge drinking theme we all like to party in when we have some steam to blow off.
Then there was the food poisoning thing, compliments of Pizza Hut in Tweed Heads, Australia. Somebody really ought to teach them how to cook up chicken wings.
Then there are the people he either met, heard about on TV, or maybe read about in a magazine or newspaper.
You know what Confessionites there were a lot of things I ingested that made me “woof my cookies”, but you now what–there were a lot more people than the things I put in my mouth that nauseated me, made me feel like throwing up, like that mentally retarded queer in Hollywood, Perez Hilton, he is definitely one somebody who makes me sick to my stomach.
There aren’t many people on that list of people, but at the top of it is one Perez Hilton, who as far as CG is concerned, is no better than any of the celebrities he attacks on his website, that glorified blog that by the end of 2010, maybe sometime in 2011, will be history.
I don’t think there is much left in the career carved out for Mario Armando Lavandeira Jr. himself, not that it’s going to crash and burn in the near future. It will though, mark CG’s words.
Unlike Mischa Barton and Lindsay Lohan, CG thinks his career is going to tank a lot f***ing faster than theirs is once somebody begins flushing a toilet with his “real life” story in it.
You just know that there just has to be some disgusting and immoral skeletons in that former fat boy’s closet, and CG predicts that his unsavory and unpleasant real story is going to be his downfall, bring his career to a crashing halt in the next year or two. Get that fork out.
Like just looking at that greasy, slimy gossip queen is enough to make CG up chuck. His idea of hygiene is taking a bottle of men’s cologne (maybe its women’s perfume he uses–who knows), soaking a loofah in it, and wiping his body down.
You know, CG has heard rumors that Perez for whatever reason, doesn’t always think soap and water is the way to go when it comes to cleaning up for his appearance, something about him smelling like he hadn’t showered in weeks.
Living in California, that heat, the smog, the sewers, ditches and garbage bins he hangs out in—well, you would think by now that Perez would have figured out that soap and water is where to start when it comes to good hygiene, right?
CG isn’t surprised by that. The guy looks like he might reek. Of course, Perez thinks covering himself in “in your face” fashion and wiping himself down with a scented loofah masks that horrendous body odor that a few celebrities have said permeates the air whenever they get close to him.
Body odor + no soap and water + wiping down body with scented loofah = smell one might find emanating from a dumpster behind a beauty salon, or maybe one of those Turkish bath houses Perez likely frequents from time to time.
F*** man, he looks like on filthy gay guy. That’s all CG can say about him when it comes to his opinion about Perez’s hygiene, and don’t even get CG started on the STDs, the unconfirmed ones he is probably walking the streets of Hollywood with unbeknownst to him.
CG’s gotta run. He has to dial up Ralph in that porcelain telephone booth in the hallway bathroom.