John Travolta’s Got Eight Inches And Thinks All High Class People Love Gay Sex

May 8, 2012 / Posted by:

After I tucked myself into bed last night, I read the entire not-so-happy-ending massage lawsuit thrown at John Travolta by an unnamed masseur, and if you haven’t already done so, you should do so tonight. Push away your laminated copy of 50 Shades of Mom Cream and get into this bedtime story. Yes, your nightmares will be haunted by a wig-wearing bloated pasty walrus waving his 8-inch dick of doom at you, but sometimes you have to suffer for foolery.

What we already know is that a masseur claims that on January 16, 2012, the Duchess of Scientology found the masseur’s ad online and ordered a massage. During the massage, John allegedly molested the masseur’s crotch, offered to squeeze the masseur’s peen and went on a crazed rant about how gay Jews rule Hollywood before he jacked himself off in front of the masseur. If you switched the dude masseur with a chick, it would be like a regular night at Mel Gibson’s house. But the fuckery is truly in the details and just like we did last night, let’s dissect those!

Travolta had chocolate cake wrappers on the floor his SUV.
Believability: 0 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls. The less Tommy cackles, the truer it is!
Isn’t chocolate an aphrodisiac? Well, so is downing Ding Dongs in an SUV with his homegirl Kirstie Alley while kiki-ing about the masseur dick he’s hoping to wrap his Scientolohole around.

Travolta’s personal chef was in the bungalow making hamburgers during the first hour of the massage and left once he was ready to get down with the masseur.
Believability: 0 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
Nothing gets Johnny in the mood for love like the scent of sizzling burger grease. That’s why bitch buys his poppers at Carl’s Jr.

Travolta’s peen is “roughly” 8 inches long.
Believability: 5 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
I’d rather cover my bedroom ceiling with pictures of prolapsed rectums than think about Johnny’s dick situation, but I can sort of believe this. I mean, most e-meters double as penis pumps, right?

Travolta’s pubic hairy is “wiry” and “unkempt.”
Believability: 10 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
Can I get a BITCH, PLEASE? Johnny is definitely as smooth as an armadillo’s ass down there. When Johnny’s eating Ding Dongs and sniffing burger fumes in a bottle while fapping, the last thing he wants to do is meticulously pick out chocolate cake crumbs from his dick bush. Besides, any hair that grows down there, he quickly plucks out and glues to the top of his head.

Travolta told the masseur that he’s not even gay and hates the taste of cum.
Believability: 10 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
Tommy Girl and the other queens at the Scientology glory hole don’t call Johnny “L. Ron Cumdumpster” for nothing!

Travolta told the masseur that the high-class in this world prefer same-sex fucking, because the sex is the best you’ll ever experience.
Believability: 9 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
That sounds more like something GOOP would say if she came out as a lesbian. But I like it. The next time I get hate mail saying that man-on-man ass sex is disgusting, I’ll let them know that they only find it disgusting because they are low-class trash. Only the high-class appreciates man-on-man ass sex, hunty.

Travolta told the masseur that there was a “starlet” staying in the hotel who was looking for some DP (double penetration) action. Travolta promised they could have her later, but they had to get in-sync first by sexing on each other.
Believability: 10 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
Was Lindsay Lohan staying at The Beverly Hills Hotel that day? NO! I’m joking. This is a falsity, because Johnny would never make a promise he can’t fuck and that promise involved vagina.

Travolta made the masseur say something nice about him as he jacked off.
Believability: 6 out of 10 Laughing Tommy Girls
This is some terrifying Stuart Smalley shit. What do you say if Johnny is doing sex to himself in front of you and asks you for a compliment? When you’re watching Johnny do himself, I’m sure the part of your brain that produces positive thoughts shuts down and quits your ass. I guess I’d tell him that he smells like Ding Dongs and hamburgers. That’s TWO nices!

John Travolta has already denied all of this and says he wasn’t even in L.A. on January 16th. John claims he has proof of this and is planning to pull his fist out of an escort’s ass to fight this lawsuit. After reading this mess of a lawsuit, the only stuff I really believe is the crap about the chocolate cake wrappers and the full-time hamburger maker. But I’m sure the Scientology engineers still worked through the night making a sex tape using a John Travolta hologram and a Kelly Preston hologram. Johnny couldn’t have molested that masseur, because he, a heterosexual man, was too busy having heterosexual sex with his heterosexual wife.

via TMZ

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