TMZ posted what they say is proof that John Travolta couldn’t have been trying to get his sweaty paws around a crotch dumpling in Beverly Hills on January 16, 2012. They say that John was filling his eating hole with another kind of dumpling that night in NYC and they have the receipt from Mr. Chow’s to prove it. Before you say, “Well, that big queen could’ve terrorized an L.A. masseur in the morning times and hopped on his royal chariot to have dinner in NYC,” TMZ also posted two pictures of John in front of a toilet (no comment) during a fitting for a movie. The pictures were apparently taken at 4:30pm and 5:21pm. I’m no Detective La Toya, but that receipt could be anybody’s receipt and those pictures could’ve been taken at any time. Something in the milk ain’t clean about those pictures too. It looks like pictures of a low-budget hologram of a John Travolta wax figure. Those creepy pictures make the pores on my skin heave the same way they do when I go to a wax museum and pretend that the figures are alive inside. I do that a lot, obviously.
Besides the receipt and the pictures (“Which prove nothing!” – Detective La Toya’s apprentice, me), Johnny’s lawyer Marty Singer tells Radar that he has flight and hotel records which further prove that his dick-groping hand was far away from Beverly Hills that day. But Okorie Okorocha, the lawyer for John Doe #1 and John Doe #2, says he has proof that John was in L.A. that day and the receipt ain’t shit:
“I can prove and have evidence that John Travolta was in Los Angeles on January 16 when he sexually assaulted my client. I’m aware that Mr. Travolta’s lawyer says he was in New York City on that date, but we have information that will prove that he was in Los Angeles on that day. The credit card receipt that Mr. Travolta says proves he was in New York City has a time stamp of 11:38 p.m., our complaint clearly says the assault occurred in the morning of January 16. This credit card receipt proves absolutely nothing, and it doesn’t account for the day of January 16. My client was sexually assaulted at 10am, Travolta could make it to New York on horseback in that time.”
I see how you snuck in a bareback joke there, Mr. Okorocha. Well played. Well played.
Mr. Okoracho also said that his office has been flooded with dozens, if not hundreds, of calls from massage therapists and witnesses with their own stories about John Travolta’s molesting ways. He expects to file many, many more lawsuits against Tommy Girl’s main homegirl.
Wonderful. Stock up on the barf bleach and brain bags (see I’m already so sick that I can’t even put words in the right places), because it’s going to be a long summer of hearing about how John Travolta begged with his butt for a finger bang and how his crotch bush is thicker than his wigs. I hate John Travolta for this. I hate Xenu for this. But most of all, I hate myself for reading every line of both lawsuits like Jackie Collins wrote it. I couldn’t even eat a dried strawberry in my cereal this morning without thinking of John Travolta’s butt mouth chomping at the bit.