I do know we’re all unwell of this Phil Robertson thing, but let’s come collectively as a society to make room for Hot Pictures! Section Deux star Charlie Sheen’s apostrophic poem to Robertson, which—we are able to handiest pray, please all godz Allah via Zeus—will be the closing words written on this already engorged saga:

good day Mallard brained
Phil Robertso!
you’ve got offended and harm so many expensive chums of mine,
who DO NOT have the voice or the outreach that I do.
well news flash
bathe-dodger,
I’ll discuss loudly and obviously for ALL of them.

You may have my consideration.

your statements had been and are
abhorrently and
mendaciously unforgivable.

How can something be “mendaciously unforgivable?” Shhhhh.

the one thing you will have to ever be in charge of constructing is a hole in the floor the precise measurement of your head.
most likely your beard would fit as well in the event you plucked out the
army of scabies and
bull weevils sequestered deep in it’s sarcophagus of dander and weasel pelts.

“Sarcophagus of dander” is pretty good, however stanza seven is still my fave:

on the eight day
when I was once whittling my cosmic banjo,
I’m beautiful sure YOU have been the scattered dross I then used to light a hearth and
find the nearest
Andy Gump.

If Whereas I Used to be Whittling My Cosmic Banjo is the title of Sheen’s memoir, everyone take a half of day.

Now deliver us residence, Sheen:

repulsed by using you;
c sheen

hash tag;
Duck; that used to be me.

As you had been, Phil Robertso. As you were.

[h/t Jezebel]

[Picture by the use of Jason LaVeris/FilmMagic / AP]

——
>> Observe Evan McMurry (@evanmcmurry) on Twitter