I was watching the news and I noticed a story on a celebrity couple that was "on the rocks" and
I could not believe it. How could this kind of thing happen (again) to the King of Pop, Michael
Jackson? I've decided to devote this week's column to famous people and their problems.
cooLLove is an advice collumn written by ll coolbreeze for the upei student newspaper, the cadre.
I'm a cute yellow character from a video game and I'm not sure how to handle my recent rise
to fame. I thought if I became famous, then women would shower me with panties, but instead I
am the obsession of millions of nerdy schoolboys. This seriously sucks and if I don't get laid
now, I never will because my popularity will eventually burn out quicker than you can say Pauly
Shore. Help me.
You're looking at this whole situation the wrong way. You should look at your young fans as a
way to win the hearts of any woman you want. Women love sensitive men who can befriend
children. That is why the Big Brother program was started: so guys could trick chicks into
sleeping with them. But a more reasonable way to take advantage of these boys without taking
them to baseball games is to tell women you are holding them hostage and you will cause them
bodily harm unless she lets you POKE her, MON.
I was checking out this hottie at the mall and I nearly freaked. My friends told me to go talk to
him, so I walked up to him and attempted to break the ice. But as soon as I opened my mouth
he got caught shoplifting from a record store. He may have stolen a Def Leopard album, but he
also stole my heart. Why is it that all the cute guys are either shoplifters or crusty old men?
Jennifer Love Hewitt
That's a question I ask myself all the time. A good hunk is hard to find, unless you hang out at
reform schools or senior citizens homes. Here are some of the qualities of two babes: Leonardo
Di Caprio is an irresistible thief because of his street smarts and his ability to pick a lock with
his tongue. And Sean Connery, the sexiest crusty man in the world, has appeal because of his
gray hair and his collection of wooden duck carvings.
I have a lot of blackouts. One minute I'm drinking in a bar and the next thing I know I'm waking
up on a farm next to some chickens. I have no memory of what happens when I lose
consciousness, but I think it's something bad. The other day I saw a poster of myself in a record
store. Sometimes I swear that I hear my voice crooning from the speakers of pick up trucks.
And toothless fat women in jean jackets approach me in the streets thinking I'm some sort of
country star. How can I figure out what happens to me when I have one of these spells?
Next time a fat woman accuses you of being a country star, ask her if she's ever slept with you.
I suspect that when you have a blackout, you try to convince fat women and truck driving
hillbillies that you're an award winning country singer in order to have your way with them.
When you wake up you lose any recollection of the events that happened to you because you
are embarrassed at how pathetic you became. I used to have the same problem: whenever I'd
fall asleep I would become Jeff Foxworthy.
I was totally hitting it off with two cuties at the beach when my dad yelled, "Hey Martha, did
you get your bladder problem fixed?" I was so embarrassed I almost pissed myself. I haven't
spoken to my father since then. Why did he do that too me?
Fathers are protective of their daughters. Sometimes they are worried about boys taking
advantage of their little girls, and sometimes they are genuinely concerned with bladders.