Wednesday, February 22, 2006

It Can Go 9

Ashlee Simpson...



Ashlee, How Could I Have I Forgotten You!
Well, Really, We All Want To.
I Hope That You End up on a Private Jet
with Paris Hilton, and You Know That Bitch
Won't Get off of Her Cell Phone
(Not Even During Sex... You Know You've Seen That Clip.)
Then Your Dumb Ass Thinks It's Okay,
So Now You Two Dumb Shits Are Chattin' It Up
Like People Actually Want to Talk to You.
Now the Plane's Equipment Goes Apeshit;
Paris Runs around Flapping Her Arms
(Fly, Bitch, Fly).
She's Yelling at You, "Do Something!"
You Smack Her across the Face
and Toss Her Dumb Ass out of the Plane.
(Thank You for That).
It Would Almost Redeem You,
But It's Too Late for That...
You're Insides Are Splashed All Over
the Crash Site.

1 Comments:

Blogger Andy Green said...

I just re-read this. If I came off as being too nice to this snotty, talentless twat... I'm sorry. She and Paris, more likely, will walk past each other on the street and be suctioned together by the vacuum of each other's brainlessness. Their skulls will meld due to the exaggerated force of the pull, and they'll become Siamese twin; thus, tripling their already undue wealth at circus sideshows. Sure, they didn't die in this scenario, but at least I'll be more likely to get a chance to laugh at them to their face. They're also kind of worth keeping as Siamese twins... Think of that sex tape!

7:51 PM  

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