Respect Authority

Here’s hoping the ShamWow is as good at absorbing blood as it is with household spills.

The face of ShamWow, and of a night well spent

Vince Shlomi, that all-too chipper and potential meth-addicted hawker of the magical dishrag, is going to be needing a few of his voodoo-infused towels to dab up the remains of his tongue — considering a hooker bit it and refused to let go during a late night rendezvous last month that ended with an exchange of punches and the two bickering lovebirds in the clink.

And thanks to The Smoking Gun, we can all relive Shlomi’s ill-fated experimentation with solicited sex, not that I think anybody particularly wants to. Personally, his sordid tale is just more proof of why paying for sex should never have to become an option for anyone — but then again, when your only attractive asset is that you have a ludicrously huge and unnecessary collection of ShamWow towels back at your apartment to help clean up afterwards, perhaps paying for sex becomes the only option.

The police report describes that Shlomi met the hungry prostitute at a Miami Beach nightclub, that she, surprisingly, turned out to actually be a woman, and the two then went back to his hotel room where he paid her a thousand dollars for the worst sex of his life. When he kissed her, she reportedly bit his tongue and refused to let go until he repeatedly punched her in the face. No doubt a little turned off by the encounter, he ran down to the lobby to tattle on Ms. Lecter upstairs, incriminating his own regrettably stupid self in the process, and they both got arrested.

So now Shlomi’s in the SlamWow, and he’s biting down on a ShamWow, as he’s about to get a SlamWow from his cellmate. And somewhere far away, Billy Mays is clutching a bottle of OxiClean and smiling. Hell, Billy Mays probably hired the hooker first and this is how he gets off, that weird, scream-talking, koala-looking fuck.

Meanwhile, I’m having some trouble envisioning how you would go about punching somebody in the face while they’re simultaneously clamped down on your tongue. Of course, and more importantly, I’m also having some trouble envisioning why anybody would even consider kissing a prostitute in the first place. Sorry Vince, but I think you’ve been misled by your own infomercial — all the ShamWows in the world couldn’t get that taste out of your mouth.

Last week was sort of a slow-mo fall playing on a continuous loop for the entire country. Between the stock market acting like a junkie on a mandatory 11:30 am nap outside the Taco Bell, and the American presidential election inching ever closer to parody as it approaches its final days, there wasn’t a whole lot worth laughing about, unless you’re a masochist or a member of Al Queda.

Hey, at least this election has resulted in a lot of great new t-shirts, right? At this rate, I’m going to be able to outfit my kids with Obama promotional apparel well into the second nuclear holocaust. So let’s give it up for things to be thankful for with another edition of The Future Freaks Me Out, and here are a few more reasons to look forward to the coming week, courtesy of Respect Authority’s hangover. Read More ›