Lately, rumors have surfaced that pop singer Rihanna has secretly been hooking up with her ex-boyfriend, R&B/pop singer Chris Brown, his most famous hit being of her face.
Tag: The Paul Frank Blog
All this news about molesting and sex and statutory rape is super fun. Of course I'm talking about Herman "Pizza Rape" Cain and Justin "Black in a Past Life" Bieber.
<p>Hi. Okay, so there's a new show on MTV called <em>Skins</em>. I haven't <strike>masturbated to</strike> seen it yet, but apparently it has teens doing lots of bad things. Like fucking each other and shit. Sounds hot. Sounds like something you'd eat Taco Bell and watch, right?</p>
<p class="p1">What's good, Egyptians?! Sooo...looks like you've come a real long way since the pyramids, huh? Haha, settle down buddy, I'm just fuckin' with you man! </p><p class="p1">Seriously though, what are you guys doing later? Ya'll can come riot in my basement if you want. I asked my mom.</p>
<p>Good morning, my fellow Americans. (<em>applause</em>) Today I stand before you a man ready to die for his country. (<em>applause</em>) I am willing (<em>applause</em>) to sacrifice my own life for the good of others. I pledge that I, Paul Barack Frank, will kill myself to make Progressive Insurance stop running their horribly unfunny and painfully awkward commercials.</p>
<p>There we were, just me and her, floating in space.</p><p>And she wouldn't even have sex with me.</p>
<p>Late last month, there was a catastrophic oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. An explosion in an offshore drilling operation killed several workers and now every second gallons upon gallons of oil are being shot off into the ocean. </p>
<p>I slept in today. I didn't shower. I didn't shave. Then again, I don't have any facial hair. The only hair I have is the occasional stray from Miss Latifah's vagina. </p><p>Maybe I should start from the beginning.</p><p>Hi, I'm Queen Latifah's dildo. Or should I say, hi, I'm Queen Latifah's dildo, but I'm open to other projects. </p>
<p><em>Today I have for you some comedy sloppy seconds. I submitted a piece to the comedy website McSweeney's, but I guess it wasn't pseudo-intellectual enough or whatever. Here it is, you be the judge. </em></p><p><strong>The Genitals of the Future<br />by Paul Frank</strong></p>
<p><strong>SUBURBAN HOUSEHOLD, AFTERNOON</strong></p><p>SCOTT: Mom, can I borrow twenty dollars? I want to take Cindy to <em>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</em> and Dad hasn't paid me yet for mowing the—</p>
<p>Today, I thought I was doing my dog a favor, that favor being blowing her fuckin' mind, man. But when I held up a big mirror to her today, she reacted as if I told her (or anyone) that Mark McGuire admitted using steroids.</p><p>She was a stone cold bitch, and while I like that in women, I don't in dogs. </p>
<p>Hey Tiger Woods' wife, how are you?! How is everything?! How's Tiger doin'?! Didn't he get arm surgery or something a year ago?!</p><p>Oh my God, what?! He what?! A car accident?! On Thanksgiving?!</p><p>A tree was drunk driving?! You what?! Haha say that again?! You had to use a golf club to get him out?! Ohmigod that's hilarious!</p>