I was at a loss for the third example of a chick trying to claim that a fat guy raped her that would make it a trend, per the rule at the New York Times, but then I was reminded of that time Aaron Reid, son of Island Def Jam CEO and Big Boi benefactor LA Reid and Pebbles, the woman who stole TLC’s publishing, was photographed by some chick asleep on a hotel bed with his unfortunate wang hanging out of his pants.
It wasn’t a rape per se, and it took place last year, which might as well be a decade ago in Internets time (in a sense, it was), but it seems like part of the same phenomenon: fat guy gets some action from a chick he almost certainly couldn’t have gotten with, if he didn’t have a shedload of money, and it somehow ends up biting him in his ass. Fat Joe and Sean Kingston were recently accused of raping groupies. Let me guess – these chicks had sex with them, and then tried to hit them up for money, or else they’d cry rape. Similarly, if the chick who took that horrific picture of Aaron Reid didn’t try to sell it back to him first, I’m sure that could have been arranged. If he couldn’t have gone to one of his parents and explained to them the situation he was in (I could have done this, but I have very understanding parents, which is to say they’ve grown accustomed to embarrassment and disappointment), I’m sure he could have sold one of the gifts he received on his episode of MTV’s My Super Sweet 16, or whatever it’s called.
The idea must be that if a man’s body is disgusting enough, with The-Dream being the cutoff point (and hence my goal physique), there’s no way anyone would believe that a woman would purposely have sex with him. She’d have to be drunk, or asleep, or bound with duct tape. And because of the BS rape laws in this country (not that this is an important issue to me personally…) all you’d have to prove is that you weren’t quite in your right mind when you said yes, or refused to say no, or that it didn’t seem like nearly as good an idea the next day, when you were walking to your car all bowlegged, as it did at the time. The fact that we’re starting to hear about these cases more and more often makes me wonder if the groupies of the world got together and decided that this might be a good way to cope with the economic downturn. Like, maybe Necole Bitchie has a secret message board, similar to the one Pitchfork uses to decide who gets to pretend to like a certain LCD rap album. I’d start a message board like that for my own site, but I’m afraid to see what would be posted. You remember those problems SOHH had.
It’s a particularly disturbing trend for a brother such as myself, who has what doctors like to call a little bit of a weight problem. I ate too many bearclaws as a kid, and they got lodged right in *this* region. One of these days my facility with crude sexual humor and my extensive knowledge of Jedi Mind Tricks’ oeuvre might finally pay off, in which case women will be compelled to have sex with me, for the reason women are supposed to want to have sex with a man anyway, per biology, i.e. because he has more money than other men (don’t hate me, hate Charles Darwin), and I’d hate to think that, even at that point, my distended beer belly, or as I like to call it, a fuel tank for a sex machine, would get in the way of my schlong, both literally and figuratively. I thought men were supposed to be the ones who look at the opposite sex as if they were objects, and women were supposed to be above that. Isn’t that why I’m supposed to feel at least somewhat guilty during my increasingly lengthy daily pr0n intake regimen? It’s a good thing I know better than to take anything a woman says seriously.
No but really. Even The-Dream’s relatively svelte profile could come back to bite him in the ass, if he has to get divorced from Christina Milian. (Has he tried to buy her something really expensive but less expensive than a divorce settlement?) The judge might be sympathetic to her plight, because of how much of an ogre he is. It’s one thing if you step out on a woman who can’t be bothered to take any pride in her personal appearance, but she put forth as much of an effort as any black chick these days – which is to say 75%. (Aww dang…) The truth of the matter is that, as some dude in the comments section here pointed out, he probably wouldn’t have married her anyway, if he’d been pulling decent trim before those “Umb-a-rella” checks started rolling in. The-Dream and I are about the same age, but I don’t know if he has the experience that I have scanning the Internets for pictures of ridonkulously well-endowed women in varying degrees of undress. He might not be aware of the level of quality that exists, and just how little it costs. He may have been too focused on his songwriting. If he needs someone to break it down for him, he should holler. My fee is extremely reasonable. Nullus.