The Mayor knows quite well that any criticism directed toward Jessica Simpson always leads to the inevitable Mitchievillian male crowd standing up and shouting in anger with one voice. That last sentence was reeeeeealy sloppy, let’s try that again. The Mayor knows quite well that any criticism he makes regarding Jessica Simpson always leads to unmitigated anger by Mitchievillian males. That wasn’t very effective, and The Mayor isn’t happy with the word unmitigated. Let’s give it a go again. The Mayor knows quite well that any criticism he makes that is directed toward Jessica Simpson always results in a furious backlash by Mitchieville’s male constituents. Ya, The Mayor nailed it. Every point The Mayor wanted to make is included in that last sentence. He painted a rather effective visual, and nailed every pertinent point.

Anyway, those chunky heels Simpson is wearing are going to collapse under the weight of that fat horse.

When The Mayor was young man, he would go out to certain establishments on Friday and Saturday nights with the intention of meeting a young woman, hoping to foster a relationship with her that would bloom into something greater as time progressed. However, often The Mayor would meet some form of sluttage at these establishments, and fostering a long term relationship with said sluttage more or less went out the door, as The Mayor suddenly became more interested in getting them drunk and naked and performing disgusting, lewd acts in front of his video camera.

Often these sluttages The Mayor speaks of weren’t exactly what one would call *top shelp*. They were more *bottom shelf* and would often perform disgusting, lewd acts for little more than a few doughnuts and maybe a can of Sprite. 96.8% of these doughnut/Sprite performers had one thing in common – they were monsters. As in, they were ginormous.

Of all the ginormous monsters The Mayor had the unpleasure of meeting, 97.4% had an excuse for their ginormosity. Not one monster told The Mayor they were monsters because they ate too bloody much and had no self-control, they always had some sort of excuse that explained away their ginormocity that never had anything to do with themselves. It was always a *hormonal imbalance*, or *genetic*, or some sort of cyst. It never had to do with the fact that they ate 12,000 calories a day and never exercised.

So, if Jessica Simpson isn’t pregnant, The Mayor is awfuly curious which ginormous monster excuse she’ll pull out of her chocolate stained pocket?

It has been quite a while since Jessica Simpson has graced the pages of Mitchieville, and that’s unfortunate. Even more unfortunater – and yes, “unfortunater” is a word (Latin) – it looks as though the only way she’ll grace these pages in the future are through retro pictures like the one above. You see, the bloom has come of that rose, and now all we are left with are a few thorns, a mushy stem, and a couple of wilted petals.

That’s ok though, we’ll always have memory lane. And there’s nothing wrong with traveling down memory lane once in a while. You just don’t want to park on memory lane for too long though, because if you do, you’ll find when you get back to reality town, your car will have been hoisted on blocks and your car stereo, tires, and possibly your bucket seats will have been jacked.

That is a perfect analogy.

Say, where the devil has Dmorris gone? What have you people done with him? What did you say to him to get him so upset?

**For 30 or so more posts on Jessica Simpson, please refer to the “Jessica Simpson” tag at the top of this magnificent post.

Unless Jessica Simpson is the new spokesperson for Krispie Kreme, there is absolutely no excuse for the look she’s sporting. The Mayor isn’t even sure that’s her.

When The Mayor thinks of Jessica Simpson, he wants to think of this, and this, and this. Not this, and this and this.

So, whoever you are in this picture, stop blocking the sun, move the hell over, and let the skinny Jessica Simpson move past.

Noticeably absent from the list is bacon, ample time to scratch scrotum upon waking up, and ample time to scratch scrotum when awake.

What’s “the rock?”

Please tell me this is a joke. Buehler? Buehler?

Thanks to Blame it on the Voices

It wouldn’t be Jessica Simpson week without a picture of her in a pair of Daisy Dukes. So here ya go. And now Jessica Simpson week is over and you can go on about your business. Oh, this is your business? Man, go for a walk and get some air or something.

I like this picture of Jessica because she has that pouty look I like so much. I also like the stupid, slack-jaw look and the desheviled, homeless look. I suppose you can say I’m a man of exquisite tastes. I’m also very worldly.

Right before Jessica Simpson comes onto the set for any photo shoot, it’s obvious that the photographer turns the air conditioning down to about 27 degrees. And bless their cotton socks that they do.

So, how’s your week going so far, Dmorris?

Use My Computer for the pic

Due to unforeseen circumstances, this is the only post of the night. And I know what you’re thinking, if this is what you end up getting because of unforeseen circumstances, keep those unforeseen circumstances coming.

BTW, the reason the picture is so big is because Dmorris has bad eyesight. I think you catch my drift.

Welcome to Jessica Simpson Week, or as I was going to call it, “The Reason Dmorris Furiously Masturbates Week.” Although that does sound a little wordy, so I’m kind of glad I went with my first instinct.

Coming to the defense of Jessica Simpson and the detractors that say she is getting fat, kim Kardashian had this to say:

“Call me crazy, but when I saw the picture of Simpson performing Jan. 25 in Pembroke Pines, Fla.], I was like, ‘Oh my God, Jessica looks hot!’ ”

“I actually love the outfit. I think she looks amazing. I love high-waisted jeans, I loved that belt, and her hair looked fabulous.”

“I get that she does look curvier, but to me, there’s nothing wrong it.”

So far, the only people that have defended Jessica Simpson’s weight gain is her physically altered sister and a broad that has an ass that’s so big it has its own postal code. Add to the fact that Kim Kardashian is a diseased, useless waste of skin, and all of a sudden the witnesses for the defense don’t look so credible any more.

Kardashian doesn’t think Simpson looks great, she’s lying. It’s like when you’re at a bar and there’s always some good looking girl who is hanging out with an ugly chick. The good looking girl purposely hangs around the dreg because she knows all the attention will be drawn to her and not to the lizard who is slurping back bacon-filled pina coladas beside her.

Well I’ll tell you this, Kardashian–it is you  that is a bacon-filled pina colada sucking lizard, not Jessica Simpson. Sure, Simpson is on the fast track to wearing tablecloths as skirts, but she’ll never, ever, ever, be in the same minor league that you are. Stop talking about Simpson, her name should never be uttered from your crack and herpe stained lips, you disease rodeo.

Darren, Dmorris, Chris and OMMAG may disagree…