Creepy Porn Lawyer

We live in sexy times. It’s a badge of honor to be called a “Creepy Porn Lawyer.”

Michael Avenatti made an appearance on Fox News where he was confronted by Tucker Carlson. I say confronted but it was more like Tucker Carlson was giving Michael Avenatti a reach around. I haven’t seen something this hot since Kanye West was hired as the creative director of PornHub to rebrand “Guy On Guy Action.”

Michael Avenatti was a fucking machine. His only miscalculation came when he allowed Tucker Carlson to bait him with an insult. Avenatti should have smiled and said, “I’d rather be called a Creepy Porn Lawyer than a New Anchor on Fox.”

This week on The Real Housewives of the White house, there was a strange storyline. As I flipped the channel from FOX to MSNBC to CNN to FOX, there were reporters chasing the wind of a hurricane for the money shot. The big boy in me wanted all of them to go home and be safe. But the brat in me who’s tuning in, who wants what he wants, knows he won’t be satisfied until there’s a weeping widow accepting a Peabody Award on behalf of her husband who was swept out to sea.

Speaking of getting-off on watching faces being sprayed, Stormy Daniels admits she’s into getting pounded. Everyone else is pretending to be a prude. Tucker Carlson isn’t a news anchor, he’s cum bucket for media pornographers. Michael Avenatti isn’t a lawyer, he’s legal fee fluffer. Kanye West isn’t a rapper, he’s a presidential candidate. Donald Trump isn’t president, he’s the bottom bitch of Stormy Daniels.

We’re fucked.

And we’re into getting fucked.

If this language makes you uncomfortable it’s because your kink is morality. There is no morality. Last time I flipped the channels, Pope Francis was still deciding what to do about all of the children who’ve been abused by the church.

Francis isn’t a pope, he’s an enabler with a cushy gig. We’ll take a knee in the name of filling the collection plate for Jesus but God forbid we take a knee in the name of protesting racism in America. God isn’t God, he’s an imaginary friend. Colin Kaepernick isn’t a quarterback, he’s a shining light of freedom. Nike isn’t a sneaker company, its a Wall Street Darling. Wall Street isn’t the problem, Republicans are the problem and if you haven’t stepped away from self-identifying as Republican, even after Charlottesville, you’re not a grown up, you’re a child with grey pubes.

Run along, creepy child. Go play with your remote fucking control.

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