Corporate Peon: Virginia

Monday, June 20, 2005


I love Rolling Stone for a number of reasons. One of which is the fact that I just learned about panties with a built-in GPS system.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Yes, they're a real thing.

Yes, they're supremely expensive.

But, if suspect your wife of giving a little extra at the office, or if your daughter is 13 going on 30...these might just let you keep them under lock and key without that pesky, cumbersome chastity belt.

And the best part is, she won't even know! Protect her privates now! (Well, not now, since they're all sold out, but you get the picture.


Another reason I like RS: they usually have a hot, half-dressed chic on the cover. This edition's hottie is Jessica Alba.

Unfortunately, I'm not a fan.

She complains in every interview about how fat she is. Bitch, shut the fuck up before I force feed you some lard. While sitting on you. You feel fat now, hoe?


There's a serious article in RS about abstinence that I need to comment on, but that will have to wait, as my mojo's not working right now.

So instead, let me rip on my new obsession - Date My Mom. A late-teen, early-twenties guy has three dates with three moms, while they each try to sell their daughters to him. Metaphorically speaking, of course. At the end of the three dates, the guy picks a daughter for a date based on what the mom said and how they clicked.

And of course, how they looked.

One date, the guy and the mom are in a bikini shop - anything here your daughter would look good in, he asks?

Does your daughter like to work out? What does she look like? Is she a girly girl?

From telling the dates that she (mom) bought her daughter her first vibrator, to telling the date that the daughter models in FHM, the show is all about how to tell the guy that the daughter is smokin', without being too blatant.

What a crock. What kind of mom would ply their daughter that way?

And why can't I stop watching?

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