Bree Olson is a Helper
While Charlie Sheen spent his morning texting Good Morning America that he’s still showing up for work on Tuesday because you’re not winning if you don’t have hostages, Bree Olson put on her publicist hat and tweeted the least suspicious thing I’ve ever read in my life:
I don’t do drugs and neither does anybody around me. I used to drink occasionally and don’t even do that anymore. Yeah, I love sex, so what?
Wow. Case closed. I can admit when I’m wrong. In the meantime, how does one even end up on a private jet en route to Whore Island anyway? By tweeting the following, of course:
What’s more painful than anal sex? Not getting to have any anal sex. Would someone come fuck me in the ass please?
That was sent at three a.m. Wednesday morning, and less than 12 hours later she found herself in the air wondering if her love of anal sex didn’t just kill her. Physically, this time. Granted, Charlie says the gun isn’t loaded, but then why does he keep opening the door and firing at passing planes because “they’re the problem?” Also, he told a duck to stop dancing for “Hiram Jewberg’s bagel crumbs” then ripped its beak off after he swore it called him Ben Franklin. “Everyone knows he’s the faggot one. Or was it Adams? Oh, God, Mr. Quacks!”
Photos: Courtesy of ClubBreeOlson.com (NSFW)