Postings for June 2005
POWDERNUTS RETURNS WITH DIRT ON JESSICA JAYMES, BEN ENGLISH, FARRAH, AND COP CAR COLLISIONS
Posted: Saturday, June 11, 2005
I know a great number of you have been wondering what the fuck happened to me?
"Where the fuck is the Captain?"
"Captain Oh Captain where art thou Oh Captain?"
Over the past couple of months since the last Hollywood Whore Report I’ve been getting pounded like Paris Hilton’s pussy backstage at a Guess Jeans fashion show, with emails demanding to know what’s going up, down, in and out in La La Land. You crazy motherfuckers have been feinding like junkies for info on the world of intergalactic sperm eye, quasi-homo rectal blasting and suicide inducing test results. You sick fucks can’t enough of the debauchery and sleaze that is the backboner of Hollywood and frankly it’s got me all warm and fuzzy.
So what did happen since the last Hollywood Whore Report?
Did I get busted?
Did I somehow overdose?
Or was it my worst nightmare…did I end up in REHAB!!!
ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!
Well, my anti-social minions, since I’m not one to just do a bump and call it a night like some pseudo emotional nipple sucking singer in an emo punk band. Nightly, I like to mix a little bit of everything in a spoon, cook it up, inject it and see what happens. And of course shit happens and so far the worst thing I’ve had to deal with losing my car because I couldn’t remember where I left it and some bloodstains that look very suspicious. This night, regardless of my plans, the gods of fuck ups and disasters were using me for some cosmic shits and giggles and boy did I give them something to talk about around the meta-physical water cooler the next morning.
And now for your twisted amusement here’s the true story of why Captain Powdernuts took a small break from the action and went into em…ah…hiding.
At night, when I’m not chopping lines backstage for the band and crew, you can find me hidden in a back corner VIP section of my favorite butcher shop sampling the constant influx of fresh meat hanging from brass poles to see who I can take home and tenderize. I look for the ones with fresh bruises, track marks or state issued ankle bracelets reeking of homesickness, failure and desperation. It’s a lovely scent that originated in Hollywood and reminds you of alpine laced urinal cakes, cheap wine and three day old ball sweat. I’m a sucker for it.
Once I’ve conned a few over to my couch, I feed em a line of bullshit so thick and ugly there’s no way anyone in their right mind would ever believe me, but these are virgin – “the fucking rent's due and I can’t even get a part in a diaper commercial without letting the producer finger my asshole, my boyfriend’s in a band, I miss my mommy and our trailer back in Smegma, Ohio” - strippers were talking about here and it doesn’t take much to get some junior high dropout trapped in my verbal headlights. Once I get them dumbfounded with a few big words the sky’s the limit, and later in the back alley of the club they’re tossing my salad squealing how they’ve never done this before. Well on this particular evening I was feeling unusually festive and the skank I had lapping a steaming puddle of social cum out of my palm just happened to be a world class junkie and I’ve never met a junkie I didn’t like.
The dancer I lassoed had a nice healthy habit going and she begged me for a ride to her dealer who happened to hold a corner downtown. Now if a little ride to a really fucked up part of town is gonna get me laid I’m not one to say walk bitch. (For those of you who don’t know, going downtown to score drugs when you’re my color is like going to Compton to see an N.W.A reunion wearing a LYNYRD SKYNYRD shirt and a coonskin hat.) Lucky for me I’ve got Mexicans that deliver but she didn’t have time for that shit, She was hurting and wasn’t about to wait for no one especially my beaner taxi service. Anyway, back to the story, I drive her ass to shitsville, CA, she hooks up and because she sweating ice she can’t wait to get back to my place to get loaded, so she pulls out her works and starts fixing in my front seat. Meanwhile, I’m scanning the shit-laden streets for car-jackers and cops who would love nothing more than to permanently cock block a punk motherfucker such as me. Well, I wasn’t looking very hard mostly because I was fixated on what my little junkie was doing. Like a true champ she was shooting up in the ditch between her overworked cunt and her under worked thighs which is really hot and hard to do. I was impressed and turned on which got me thinking and right then it hit me…really it fucking hit me.
There are like a billion cars in LA. You’ve seen the pictures. And out of all the vehicles I could hit…rusted old shitboxes with other junkies looking for a fix, a limo, a taxi, whatfuckingever ... I had to sniff out a goddamn cop car.
And like a bolt out of some ironic hell a civil servant bastard tags me like he was playing Grand Theft Auto San Andreas.
The motherfucker hit me hard as fuck on my side, scaring the piss out of me and practically implanting my companions needle into her cancer-ridden cervix. Needless to say I was freaking the fuck out because I’m on probation, there’s dope in my car, she’s bleeding like she just miscarried twins, and I just got plowed into by the last car in the world I want to trade paint with. I thought I was done for sure.
Luckily, my cop was driving a transport van and this was his third accident. Turns out he was more freaked out than I was, and wasn’t going to report this fender bender to his superiors so he wouldn’t get suspended. We both parted and went our separate ways and that was that. Yeah, I would like to think it was but I don’t trust cops and for the past few months I’ve been a bit on the edge since he could’ve been full of shit and wanted to hunt my ass down for fun. So, I’ve been laying low and playing DOOM 3 until I felt like it was safe to show my face outside and on the internet. And with a little encouragement from Steve C. (I swear I’ll never tell them who you are – Steve) and the promise of bail money here goes another Hollywood Whore Report.
The smut wizards at Vivid have once again thrown their soiled condoms in mainstream to see if they’ll float into the commercial ocean. The company that currently exploits Jenna Jameson and has the balls to film Evan from BIOHAZARD naked has come up with their dumbest idea ever. Here’s the deal, if your bitch hasn’t grasped the concept of make up, and she’s still using lipstick from grade school, Vivid is putting out their own line of lip gloss and raccoon paint. I guess the greedy bastards didn’t make enough off of snowboards and compilation DVDs so they figured since the cunt you’re dating or married to is actually a whore why not help her look the part.
Yes, now your wife or girlfriend or boyfriend can look like a world-class slut ala Vivid style. So get out there and turn your plain Jane into a Vivid box cover and fuck her like the prostitute she really wants to be.
WHOA!!! Stop the fucking presses. My buddy recently got into a little tussle with a well known suitcase pimp who goes by the name Ben English. He’s a fucking Limey from the land of tea and crumpets, cross dressers and royal fucks who can’t keep their dicks in their knickers. This cocksucker, and I’m mean he really sucks cock, was upset that my friend referred to the CUNTS that he rented out to a recent Kick Ass Pictures art show to serve drinks in lingerie as "WHORES". Calling a spade a spade enraged English and he proceeded to slap my friend around. Well no one fucks with my friends over a fucking word like WHORE. Hey English, those bitches you brought are SCUM FUCKING, COCKSUCKING, I-FUCK-FOR-MONEY, CUM-GUZZLING, GARBAGE-EATIN’, FUCK SLUTS, YOU LIMEY FUCK. Why the fuck are you so sensitive? I know why you’re fucking gay. Only an ass fucking fairy would get bent out of shape over calling some WHORE a WHORE. And if you don’t believe me there’s a clip out there floating around from a film English did where he cums in some dudes maw. Fucking FAGGOT!!! I’m not done with you, bitch.
So, get this: some wanna-be porn slut is out there wandering the streets without a clever nom-de-porn. Right now if you see her and you want to call her over to suck on your yambag for a ten spot you have to yell “Hey, you uncle-molested fuck stick, come here and suck my scrotum.” That’s an awful lot to remember just to get some head and I don’t know about you but I can barely remember my phone number half the time, so the less work I have to do to blow a load the better. Well lucky for us she wants you to vote on her porn name. She’s taking an internet poll in which you can vote on the name that she’s going to use to help hide her wicked ways from her family. Sadly, there are some pre-fabricated choices and you can’t make up your own name. Now where’s the fun in that? I’ve got a bunch names I’d like to call her. Whatever the case if you feel guilty for not voting in the national election to decide who’s going to fuck this country up even more now’s your chance for some Karmic balancing.
(Hey Powernuts this has already come and gone. - Steve C.)
(Fuck me, I’m as late as Tara Reid’s period and the cunt has a name by now so forgive me but I’m on drugs and my car is dented thanks to a renegade TJ Hooker…I’m a little frazzled okay.)
And of course this is old news too but I have to squeal like senior prom queen losing her cherry over the fact that ex-SLAYER and FORBIDDEN drummer "http://www.foundrymusic.com/bands/displayheadline.cfm/id/7592">Paul Bostaph has joined the almighty EXODUS. Now I can’t really say what happened to longtime drummer Tom Hunting and the truth is he can’t either, but he’s on a nice little sabbatical and Paul’s tearing shit up just like he did when he replaced the pussy whipped Dave Lombardo in hell’s house band Slayer.
Okay in case you haven’t been keeping up on available escorts there was this little website called exotica2000 that had a whole stable of porn WHORES, SLUTS, and world class GARBAGE EATERS to satisfy every perverted pleasure you could think of and then some. And believe me it wasn’t cheap to have a bonerfide porn star come to your pad and shit and piss in your face or vice versa. Some of these cunts were charging $5,000 an hour just to have a fucking drink with them.
Of course in this day and age you can’t keep a good thing secret and the site and the clumsy bastards that ran it were busted faster than Heidi Fleiss and Charlie Sheen is nowhere to be found. Now there’s a bunch of well oiled, has been porn stars shaking in their clear platform heels because they were featured on the site and they know the Feds are coming over for a visit and this time it’s not for fun. Oddly enough most of them are more afraid of losing their other job with whatever company they were contracted to than going jail. (Believe it or not some smut peddlers forbid their contract girls to turn tricks on the side…morality play in porn makes me sick) Some would claim the site put their pictures up without telling them…but come on who’d believe a girl that sucks a cock after it’s been up her shitter for three hours and takes a face full of piss for bonus footage on the special edition DVD? Apparently just about everyone even the almighty Hustler cuz their contract bitch Jessica Jaymes was all over the site.
Now here’s something only I know and I’d love to share it with you. In what had to be a wickedly cool but bizarre night of sickness Jessica Jaymes had to go the hospital because her twat was vomiting blood and wouldn’t stop. During her part time whoring Jaymes’ gash was thrashed so bad by one of the site’s customers that she had to give up sex for a little while and that really bummed me out because I was scheduled for a date with her.
Gag Factor (JM Productions) is an amazing series where sweet little porn starlets all infected with the Jenna Syndrome are choked half to death on cock. These star twinkles are paid less money than it costs to buy a brand new PSP to be violently face fucked until they either throw up (sometimes they do and it’s funny as fuck) or their freshly made up “look at me daddy, I’m so pretty” faces are overflowing with so much throat phlegm you could wax the trailer they came from with it. Visually, Gag Factor is pure art and the sounds these meatholes make, as their esophagus is sausage punched can only be described as a carnal symphony from heaven. And apparently I’m not the only who thinks the relaxing sounds of near death by penis is music to my balls. The quick thinking bandwagon jumpers at JM Productions are in the middle of creating ringtones from the best of the Gag Factors lot of garbage eaters. Now you can have gagging and spitting letting you know mommy is calling instead of Greensleeves. Hello, hang on a sec…hey it’s for you.
And lastly what do you do when you’re a washed up, dried up, sagging, no use for your stretched out anus, porn star that had her moment in the C-light? What’s next for a girl who’d been so used up she couldn’t even get hired for a snuff film? What do you do when the only skill you have is to fuck and suck for money, but you’re too chicken to sell yourself to complete strangers? You swindle banks for thousands of dollars by pretending you’re someone who actually matters in this world, that’s what. A little while back there was this hot piece of ass who went by the name of Farrah and for a hot second she was the hottest thing since the vibrator. Personally, I thought she was a stuck up bitch who thought her pussy was made of moon rock and I would’ve loved to see her in a snuff film, but that’s just me, a heartless bastard that hates anyone who wouldn’t fuck me even when I said "please". So Farrah I hope you have a great time in Federal Prison getting raped by Latina gang members or better yet I hope you spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for the guy that’s going to kill you when you roll over on the ones that you claim put you up to this to reduce your time in the slammer. I’m sure you’ll be the first fuckslut in the Witness Protection Plan after you testify against them as I know you will. Bitch.
So that’s it my friends. Until next time.
Captain Powdernuts
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