Derober

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Bob ‘The Bitch’:
Katy Perry + leather pants = gravy train. If only she had brought out the fun bags we could’ve tagged on some biscuit wheels to go with that train. But that’s the world we live in. You know say what you will about Katy Perry, but don’t tell me the girl isn’t fun. She looks like the kind of girl that would try to arm wrestle me and then would piss in the men’s bathroom standing up with one leg over the urinal. Just a Tom Boy that loves to get her freak on. And I for one say, ‘Yes.’ I condone this sexy can-do attitude and look forward seeing what Perry gives me in the future. But for now we’ll have to settle for the skin tight leather pants at the 2009 Brit Awards.

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Bob ‘The Bitch’:
You know despite looking like a hybrid of an alien and the T-1000 robot Victoria Beckham is sort of sexy. I mean she’s no Megan Fox or Angelina Jolie in her prime but I’d still eat the chunks of corn out of her belly button. And she has that special quality look in a woman I dream of in that it always appears that sex is on her mind. Lets face it, we don’t see Victoria Beckham marketing sodas, tampons, children’s books and cotton candy. She markets sex, pure and simple. In this ad she is marketing Armani underwear. And you know what…I kind of want to buy a pair for myself.- That and rub one out on my keyboard. Judge me if you like, I value your opinion.

At the end of the day I can only think of one way this photo can get any better….

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Bob ‘The Bitch’:
So get this, I’m just walking down Venice beach yesterday with a bottle of Jack in one hand and KY Jelly lube in the other, as I always do, when I bump into to this dame with a rack chiseled by the Gods themselves. I tell her, “My name is Bob, but ladies call me ‘The Bitch’. Would you like to come home with me and check out my collection of Pure Poison Pogs?” She hesitantly nods and then jumps on the chopper with me holding onto my groin for security. We make our way back to my place, play a few rounds of Connect Four and then kick the sex train into full gear. She calls me ‘Bucking Bob’ as I groan like a yeti in heat. Seven or eight hours later we finally stop and collect ourselves over a cup of Scotch and Egg Nog. The girl tells me that her name is Stephanie Seymour and that she used to be a supermodel. The fire place still burning brightly crackles quietly when I look the woman in the eye and whisper into her ear, “you still are…” She smiles, and caresses my thigh. And that was how my Monday afternoon was spent.

The lesson hear ladies, get in touch with me to stay forever young.

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Bob ‘The Bitch’:
Hey everybody, don’t look now but Hilary Duff will take your father out for a nice seafood dinner and NEVER CALL HIM AGAIN. That’s right, she’s an adult now. And just to bury the hatchet on this little tid-bit Hilary decided to sex it up in the newest issue of Maxim magazine. The pics are sort of hot if you don’t have access to internet porn or if you live in the hills somewhere. I say lets dispense with this Sesame street cleavage bull-sh@$ and go straight to the theatre of the absurd. You know, the kind where you’d catch Hilary jamming a fruit basket up her vagina while taking a bucket of urine to the face. And if that doesn’t get you off then you’re NO friend of mine.

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Bob ‘The Bitch’:
I would like to go on record saying that Carmen Electra is not human. There is no way a mere mortal could still look to be in their prime at 36. It just doesn’t work like that. My vote is that she has her own cryogenic chamber that she freezes herself in every night. That or she eats the souls of little children. Either way foul play is afoot. But damn is it a wonder to behold this sex demon on the cover of Playboy’s 55th anniversary. It’s like biting into a steak for the first time or opening up your first slinky while on acid. Breathtaking.