Exclusive!

Lynette Taylor is one of my new favorite people. If you haven't seen her interview on Larry King, you need to.

The biggest reason why she's my new favorite person is what she represents. She represents broken barriers in the American Football and Political system. In this interview, and in others, she showcases her unique view of the world in a charmingly eloquent fashion.

While commenting on her husbands rape allegations she decided to get political and say something that is on all of our minds.

"I don't understand why we're destroying the Earth to get to Jupiter, that doesn't make sense to me."

Exactly. How Lyenette reached into the heart of society and plucked out that statement, we will never know. But something even more profound is afoot here and this blog is about the break this exclusive story, sure to shatter America's view on sports and politics.

Lynette Taylor does not really exist. Lynette Taylor is actually Alvin Greene, a candiate for a US Senate seat in South Carolina. If you look at their photos up close, you can see that the illusion is gone.



Why else do you think there was suspicion surrounding his candidacy? Because he was fucking moolighting as an NFL player's wife!

But what does a relatively unknown candiate for Senate have to gain by assuming the identity of a NFL player's wife? The answer is simple: world peace. Because being a Senator for South Carolina comes with some pretty sweet resources, and being an NFL Player's wife comes with some pretty sweet resources. With her combined powers as a Senator and an NFL player's wife, she could hire enough Mexicans to make an entire legion of Alvin Greene action figures, the profits of which she'd give to help Haiti, considering someone lost 95% of the money given to them. No one before Alvinette thought of combining those two roles into one and harvesting the potential for a good cause. Alvinette represents a new form of hero for America. One who looks at the big picture and says "I got this shit!" One who, against all odds, tells his country, "No. If I can dream about being half-man, half-senator, half-NFL player's wife, ALL at the same time, than I can BE half-man, half-senator, and half-NFL player's wife, ALL at the same time. I do what I want!"

Although his cover has been blown, his resolve and integrity as a he-she is more than intact. Its shining brightly like the razor hidden in his cleavage when reflecting studio lights. Shine on, my friend. Shine on.

Puking American Dreams.

On July 14th, 2010, at approximately 4:17pm, while sitting in a computer chair at his internship, for no particular reason at all, 22 year old Kyle Hafkey collapsed. He was rushed to the hospital where doctors thought they were dealing with a garden variety heart attack, but after an MRI scan revealed a mass on his heart they began to fear the worst. This piece was no ordinary piece of heart; it was a section that had become overgrown and cancerous. Experts are speculating that this is just one of many cases of heart cancer linked to radiation caused by Hollywood. When asked about its connections to massive amounts of deadly radiation, Hollywood representatives had this to say:

"Our hearts go out to Mr. Hafkey and we wish him a speedy recovery. As for the accusations that we knowingly pump toxic radiation into the minds and hearts of Americans, they are completely unfounded. We just do our best to create meaningful stories for the public; stories that the public can relate and relax with. We just want to entertain."

Doctors removed the mass and a quater of surrounding tissue from Hafkey's heart. Doctors say that Hafkey is one of the lucky ones, and had they not removed this mass now it could've proven fatal later on. Hafkey must now relearn how to feel in certain areas, and even relearn how to read and write. Hafkey released a comment after Hollywood refused to take the blame, "There's no doubt in my mind that Hollywood is committing horrendous acts of radiation pollution; pollution that is actively doing damage to our bodies and minds. I do not, however, think that Hollywood is aware that this is going on. They said in their statement that they just want to entertain. The truth is they just want to make money, and sadly this radiation is a runoff biproduct of what they create."

Hollywood has declined to comment any further on the matter.

But what are your thoughts?

Why not?

There's an emptiness growing inside me. A void.

A void that can only be filled by Venomsaurus Rex!

Psychic Paranoia.

I'm currently working at a company that produces reality TV shows. Just now my boss came up to me and told me about this guy she just got off the phone with who wants his own show. Apparently, he's a world renowned "mentalist" who specializes in hypnosis, using the power of suggestion over people, and judging from his website, using those powers to commit statutory rape.

Sorry, but I've read WAY too many comic books to be impressed by the powers of Isreal Mandrake. As paranoid as this sounds, I would not be comfortable having someone who claims to have "influence" over people on my set, let alone give him his own TV show. Whose to say that this isn't all part of his plan? Maybe he got the meeting with my boss by using his powers to pull some strings, grease the mental wheels, and get the psychic ball rolling? I know we all create our own reality, but what if this guy is manipulating our reality via our brains, with the goal of getting his own reality TV show? If I've learned one thing at this office, its that people will do ANYTHING to get on reality TV. ANYTHING!

I recall there being a hypnotist at my Senior Prom after party, and he called a bunch of us on stage to hypnotize us. But before he could hypnotize us, he had to test which of us were most susceptible to hypnosis. Needless to say, my Dana SKULLy was far too dense and skeptical to be penetrated. I'll wear my hard head as a badge of courage when Isreal Mandrake uses his mind control powers to seize control of the company and one day THE WORLD. After all, it'll be up to me, the lowly intern, to stab him in the heart with a stake and submerge his dismembered body in the four corners of the Earth. Right? Right?

Masta-DANCE!

In case you didn't notice, Walter Jones is donning drag in order to play his Grandma. But its totally not gay because in the next scene he bro-fully grabs Austin St. John in a show of bro-tastic friendship. All of this leads up to a totally not gay display of Austin St. John's rippling muscles twirling about the room, teasing Walter Jones' quivering skin with the thought of propelled Red Ranger sweat beads. The Yellow Ranger is also in it, I think.

In the end, this video teaches us a valuable lesson: Every problem, even an abusive relationship, can be solved by a dance off. Nothing says "I'm defending your honor as a woman" like having her misogynist boyfriend slide effortlessly through your legs.

P.S. Racism doesn't exist.