I thought I’d be strong enough to handle this, but I was so wrong. Immediately after I saw this picture of my beautiful earth angel Bruce Jenner smiling and holding hands with that morally bankrupt Botox dumpster Pimp Mama Kris - a she-devil I was certain he was free from the clutches of, mind you – I started cycling through the Kübler-Ross model of 5 stages of grief. At first I was in denial (“He’s just escorting a Michael Jackson impersonator through the airport!”), then anger (I broke every dish, glass, and crystal unicorn in my home, and lit a box of Wheaties on fire), bargaining (“Do you want me to carve up my nose into a silly putty penis?? I’ll do it! I’ll do anything to keep you from returning to that evil hag!”), followed by depression (listening to this song on repeat while weeping loudly on the kitchen floor).
But I finally reached acceptance. I’m a strong woman who can get over the hurt Juicy Brucie has caused. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Oh for fucks sakes, who am I kidding? I’m still at anger and depression. As of right now, I’m typing with one hand and tearing up my favorite pin-ups of Brucie while screaming the lyrics to “I Can’t Make You Love Me” at full-volume. Somebody PLEASE send the following to my apartment: 2 Fudgie the Whale cakes, 10 therapy dogs (puppies pls), and Kelly Clarkson to sing “Stronger”. It’s going to be a long night.
Here’s more of that cold heartless bitch Brucie Jenner joyfully prancing around with Satan’s most sickening slut (no, literally; Satan can barely get through a blow job without barfing all over her head) at LAX. Trailing closely behind, of course, is Kash Kow Kim, looking the definition of tacky and cheap, along with The No-Talent Trio: Khloe-tron, The Model One, and notoriously good hitter Marla Hooch: