After the gay Tasmanian devil on molly that is Richard Simmons exited Jimmy Kimmel’s Live studio by crashing through the wall, the audience picked the shards of sequins off of their eyeballs and tried to figure out what just happened. Shit, my ass just watched both videos three times and I don’t know what happened.
In the span of 8 minutes, the true queen of pop gave Bill Hader a lap dance, lovingly caressed Jimmy Kimmel’s face, licked the questions off of Jimmy’s card like they tasted like piña colada lube, spoke in a “Mexican” accent that was almost as bad as the “Mexican” accent Dania Ramirez does on Devious Maids, flashed the basket of baby peaches in his pants, twerked to the oldies, cried about thirsty orphans, stripped down and got into Jane Fonda drag. And he did it all while wearing the most clothes I’ve ever seen him wear. He was dressed like the principal at Liberace’s Academy of Music.
I feel like I need to drink ten cartons of orange juice and lie down in a dark room. It’s like I’m coming down from E. Nothing makes me pucker like watching Richard Simmons go full Richard Simmons.