Last night in Baltimore, Poseidon’s true son and my bong’s favorite swimmer, Michael Phelps, accidentally did anal with a woman’s car. The police say that at around 9pm, Michael’s Cadillac Escalade collided with a Honda Accord. The two cars also hit a parked car which was empty. Hos on the scene say that the accident happened, because someone ran a red light.
The lady in the Accord got a little banged up and was shuffled off the hospital. Homegirl said her head, arm and wallet was hurting. I’m joking about the wallet part. She’s not going to sue (she’s totally going to sue). The Associated Press added that there were two passengers in Michael’s SUV and neither of them had owwies.
A Dlisted roving reporter (aka a reader named Jay) was on the scene shortly after the accident and here is his account of what happened:
Hey Michael K,
so I’m leaving my apartment tonight in my shithole city of Baltimore, when just two blocks away, I see someone has just wrecked his Escalade into a fucking PARKED car. This guy is hobbling around on the corner, looking drunk and very smug, with no shoes on and rocking a very bro-ish purple football jersey. I then realized it is the world’s fastest drunkard/highard Michael Phelps. The whole time he had a stupid shit-eating grin on his face, no doubt induced by the body shots he was probably taking as he ran his Escalade into a parked car. My friend took some photos, only to have Michael Phelps get in his face and demand, “Dude. Delete that photo. DELETE THE PHOTO NOW!”
Definitely drunk, definitely shoeless, and definitely wearing a football jersey. I’m so INTO Michael Phelps right now.
Just for the record, the police say that booze was not a factor in the crash and that they didn’t feel the need to drunk test Michael. Personally, if I was a police officer on the scene, I would’ve tested him. But I wouldn’t rely on the regular “field sobriety tests” they usually do. You can’t really tell with those. I would’ve done a Peenalyzer (aka a “Does the jizz taste like vodka” test). It works every time.
By the way, Michael was not having a Chico’s kind of night. GONG! Or should I say, BONG!