Because guess what sweetie, you can kill the fuck out of your babies in Florida, and don’t nobody care. As of now she isn’t sleeping so long at night. And if I decide my lack of rest is really cramping my party style, I might be planning a trip to “Disney World”. Only on this particular vacation, Disney World is a no-tell motel operating on cash only basis in a little-known corner of the Everglades, next to a very dark and remote swamp frequented by big assed chompin’ gators. So you might want to start rethinking waking up twice every night. Just saying. Daddy will be out sweatily dry-humping Casey Anthony on a dance floor, laughing our asses off at the Florida judicial system.
Seriously dude, Not Guilty? OJ Simpson is tipping a 40oz to these defense attorneys as we speak. And by “tipping a 40oz”, I mean “being forcibly sodomized by Latin Kings”. Just tell me why the “accidentally drowned” corpse was duct taped on the mouth? Because that is what you do when someone you really care about dies accidentally. You put duct tape over the mouth of the corpse, then hide it somewhere. I understand if you are sick and tired of the kid fucking crying all the time. But in case you were asleep during the frog dissection lab in high school biology, let me clue you in on one very important fact: Corpses can’t fucking talk. So you wasted a strip of perfectly good duct tape there. But hey, what the fuck do you want? You get 12 people together, all of whom aren’t cerebral enough to figure out how to get out of jury duty, and all bets are off.
If/When Casey is sprung from jail, I would not want to be a penis anywhere in a 5 mile radius of that batshit broad. She is going to go on a drunken skenk streak that would make Lindsay Lohan blush. Mark my words.