Sting & Gwen
                          by His Rudeness, Sir Rich

                       I'm going to explain the whole thing to you. Gwenie only has one song.
                      As cute as the little bitch is, her repotuea....repotee...setlist doesn't include
                      another song that anyone recognizes. Sting was told to sing one of his hits,
                      not the usual crap he culls out these days. His concert band can't play any
                      Police songs straight...they have to jazz everything up until you can barely
                      recognize them because Sting can't accept that the Police were the best
                      thing he ever did.

                      The producers had to stick No Doubt behind him like some sort of cover
                      band and Gwen, well....they couldn't send her offstage. As to why Sting
                      was there in the first place...I have no idea. Anymore than I had an idea
                      why people filled a theater last weekend to see George Thorogood on
                      some cable show we saw (with no sound). The guy hasn't made a new
                      sound in 20 years. I'll play it on a jukebox but he's been doing the same
                      act for the last 20 years. I'm surprised he could sell out a theater. It must
                      have been in your neck of the woods, wherever that is.

                       If I asked why Sting, a brit, was there, I'd also have to ask why a
                      Canadian was singing the national anthem. Roseanne was busy?
                       I want to get her down on all fours and punish that little slut.Gwen,
                       not Sting. I know she wants it, the little trollop.

                      The problem with you is that you sit alone in your room, trying to stay
                      awake after drinking half a bottle of that cheap hootch before the kickoff,
                      mumbling to yourself about these damn kids these days. You look like
                      Nickloson in The Shining by halftime.  I spent the time where real men
                      watch a cheap bar. I can tell you that the crowd loved
                      hearing a Police song and staring at the freekin stomach rather than see her
                      do one of her own terrible songs. Maybe you're gay. It doesn't make you
                      a bad person. Most real men didn't even know Sting was onstage. I will give
                      you props for even being able to see the screen by halftime. We had a drunk
                      like you fall asleep at our party. The guys painted his face and took a picture.
                      The Ozzie commercial was a big hit. The upside down clown was a big
                      hit with the more dimwitted in the crowd. I managed to miss most of them.
                      Our 50/50 winner took home $642 and a pool winner took home a grand.
                      I imagine the bookies had a bad afternoon.

                      Now in the case of Santana...I didn't see any singer with him and I was watching
                      a big screen TV.  That was someone named Beyonce Knowles I later learned.
                      Not that I could pick her out of a crowd. I didn't even know Celine Dionne was
                      singing.  I had to ask someone who it was. He asked if I lived in a cave and I said
                      "I try to". I called him gay because he knew. I didn't even recognize Hank Williams Jr
                       till halfway thru the song, thank God. I still want to bang Bonnie Raitt, right after
                       I leave Gwennie in a shaken mess of love juices.

                       Sorry...I got carried away there.

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