Diddy Diddy Bang Bang

 

 

Greetings America! We have OJ 2.0! Almost like the original smash hit sans the bodies, I think. We have a highly successful music producer, entrepreneur, and all around real cool guy, Mr Tiddy, oh, my bad, Diddy, who is accused of hosting parties that would shame Caligula. Welcome to Freakoff 2025.

 

Seems this all started when Mr Diddy slapped his Ho around in an elevator. That doesn’t have the gravity of leaving two bodies In Beverly Hills but hey, this is for the Z Generation and we can’t be “un-aliving” anyone now can we?  Seems Diddy had the habit of masturbating in a corner while various guests banged his drop-dead beautiful girlfriend for the edification of anyone who cared to watch. That’s not gay, but it’ll do until Gay comes along.

 

The subsequent trial is being celebrated in New York which amazes me. I would have done it in Orange County. Slapping your salami while a weightlifter slaps your chick’s butt seems like the California thing to do, but who am I?

 

The government has brought out the big guns. Mr Diddy is being charged under the RICO act that was used to round up all the graduates of Wassa-Madda U down on Mulberry Street back in the day immortalized in the movie “The Godfather.” Normally there would be a host of defendants, all using oxygen to prove they are just fine upstanding citizens who ran an olive oil business. RICO was designed to show a decided plan to prove the accused were talking to each other in private about John F Kennedy’s upcoming trip to Dallas. Mr Diddy has the distinction of being the first to be charged with conspiring with himself. But hey, he was in a corner by himself, right? I guess it’s a black thing. I’m just saying that, if it were me, well, I’m from Texas so we’ll just leave that right there.

 

The prosecution is armed with the FBI, CIA, Justice Department and really nice suits and are really glad that they survived Trump’s “Night of the Pink Slips” and they’re not sitting in a corner somewhere fondling themselves. While at the defense table sits a dazzling array of star-studded white boys who individually lost many high echelon trials in their career and will most likely lose this one.

 

The evidence for this extravaganza included several hundred gallons of baby oil and many tubes of lubricant, which, having had a New York girlfriend myself, I can’t see why she’d need that. Jus’ sayin’. And, of course there’s Diddy’s mamma, daughters and other family screaming from the gallery that he must go free. His mother looks a lot like Beah Richards who played Red Foxx’s sister-in-law on Sandford and Son. I expected that at any moment she’d jump up, waving her finger in the air and admonishing the witness not to blaspheme in the court. I sat through several hours of a female reporter going on and on about how Diddy had “piercing eyes.” Why heck yeah, he has piercing eyes! Uncle Sammy is only trying to put him in jail until Jesus comes back! I’d be staring holes through people myself.

 

I will admit he looks good for someone who’s been locked in a basement for months. He was denied bail because with his billions there was a concern that he may take off to Pago Pago or someplace. Imagine that! The star witness was the aforementioned girl friend who described sexual Olympics that amazed even me, and I’ve been to Mexico back before the Cartels screwed it up for everybody.

 

They estimated that it’s gonna take eight weeks to pull off this dog and pony show, and if you ask me, that’s one hell of a lot of Johnson and Johnson’s. I wonder if they’re gonna put that baby oil into evidence. I’ve heard some of the testimony. “Uh, I had intimate relations with her ‘cause I wuz in fear for my life.” N-Word Pleeze! I will give ol’ Diddy credit. All this hullabaloo and nobody ended up in the East River. I’ll give him that.

 

This is the best the Tik Tok Generation can do for a trial of the century, so it only goes to show how far we’ve come since OJ had his version of a freakoff. And he is better looking than Harvey Weinstein, I gotta admit. So hit one for the homeboys Diddy. I’ll get you a towel.

The Butcher!