That’s right… I said it: Paula Abdul has a nutsack THIS
BIG. (True, I could’ve been a bit more physiologically accurate and
said, “Paula Abdul has a vagina THIS BIG”… but the implication isn’t
quite the same, is it?)
Why is Paula Abdul’s ball-bag so remarkably huge? Well, who else
would quit one of the cushiest jobs ever (being a judge on one of the
most popular shows in the world, American Idol) unless
their scrabble-bag was truly of gigantic proportions? It’s not like the
job market is all that great right now for reality show judges who clap
like a seal, cry at the drop of a hat, and drift off into nonsensical
narcotic-fueled monologues. And in case you didn’t know, Paula made a
poop-ton of moolah doing Idol (some say up to $2 million last
year)—and she slept through half the season! Plus Paula’s gone
from a F-list nobody to one of the world’s most recognizable
celebrities—and after achieving all that, she’s just gonna get up
(or be propped up) and walk away? I’m talking ginormous testicles here,
people!!
Oh, but there’s more! According to the Hollywood Reporter,
sources say that Abdul left the negotiating table when producers
refused to meet her salary demands of… gulp… 20 million
dollars?!? True, that was for a multi-year deal… but what was
she thinking? Is she planning on buying the Pfizer corporation, so
she’ll have a lifetime of custom-made drugs to dump down her throat?
It’s no wonder she always looks like she’s about to fall
over—you’d wobble like a weeble too, if your gonads were that
freaking elephantine!
That’s why I’m all for Paula leaving Idol and moving on to a
different job that’s better suited to her talents—mmmm… such
as… maybe painting herself black, and becoming a performing seal
(clap, clap). I also hear there are plenty of positions open in the
“medical school cadaver” field. OOH! Or if she wanted to continue
judging, she could get her own Judge Judy-type show, except call
it Judge Abdul and base it in Saudi Arabia where she could rule
on cases about women who ride in cars with men who aren’t their
relatives, and then sentence them to getting their hands cut off. Or
she could rent out her colossal cylindrical genitalia to
boulder-climbing instructors. Or something else, maybe. Dude, she can
do whatever she wants! THE WORLD IS HER OYSTER(S)!
That’s why I’d like to say, here’s to you, Paula Abdul! I’m giving
you a 1980s movie-style standing ovation slow clap, for putting your
monolithic testes on exhibition and giving the finger to (a) the
disturbingly creepy sexual advances of Simon Cowell, (b) the sad
repetitiveness of Randy “What’s Up, Dawg?” Jackson, (c) the grating ego
of Karla What’s-Her-Name, (d) the seemingly bottomless pit of
annoyingly untalented contestants, (e) the wry wit of Ryan Seacrest (I
kind of like him, actually), and (f) the cumulative cluster-eff that is
American Idol. I would have also applauded the size of your
Herculean hairy cantaloupes carelessly swinging from your
nethers—but they’re so incredibly huge, my hands were
crushed.
