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    One Signed, Sealed and Debauched Blind Vice

    Blind Vice, Awful Truth

    It's really one of Hollywood's best-kept secrets—right up there with what exactly went down between Tom and Nicole. And yes, if you're smelling a pooftah about to be (almost) outted here, then, babycakes, you are correct. Besides, I gave you all a het vice last week about how skank-a-thon you straight married folks can be, 'kay?

    For the ribald record, do you all have any idea how hard it is to find surreptitious heterosexual effed-up behavior in this town? It's ridiculous! No one hides that crap in T-town! You straight Neanderthals are so proud of treating women like they so often treat themselves (starvation, mutilation, etc.). It's all the closeted fagolas who are worth writing about.

    Take Petered Metered, for ince. He's, like, so famous for screwing everything that's boobalicous, always female, always a very broad-type o' broad, too. Know what I mean? P.M. truly loves the attention all this lady-killin' affords him, the more visible, the better. The more curvaceous, even more better!

    A little obvious for my tastes, but in a town where a woman can still keep their kids and have a career comeback less than a year after they go bald-headed wacko, what the ef do I know about subtleties?

    Obviously, not nearly as much as does Mr. Metered, who has it expressly written into the contracts with his girlfriends (yes, you read correctly) that they're supposed to go on and on not just about Metered's prowess, but his damn annoying wandering eye, too. It's all for effect. Just so the gullible public doesn't quit buying his product, which affords P.M. mucho purchased playtime with the—you know what's coming here, hons—the boys 'n' the toys. Lots of toys and gadgets and drugs and gels and porn and…jeez, doesn't anybody just have plain ol' sex anymore?

    And It Ain't: Sylvester Stallone, Colin Farrell, Matthew McConaughey