I Write Letters

Usually, the whores at the Boston Herald's Inside Track are known for their hard-hitting stories and real gumshoe journalism, if by "hard-hitting stories" you mean "alleyway handjobs" and by "real gumshoe journalism" you mean "contempt for anti-perspirants." However, I did manage to dig up a golden nugget or two from their latest turd of a column (though later tests confirmed these nuggets were just moldy corn):

And speaking of Gisele, word from our supermodel spies is that Brady’s leggy S.O. is winging her way home to Brazil to spend her summer hols with the fam. Good timing, Gi. Because, of course, Tommy is working feverishly in Foxboro and if his bundle of joy arrives this month it is probably best if Gisele is on another continent. She is said to be bothered by the amount of attention Tom’s baby mama is demanding in her final weeks of gestation.

Ah, so Father's leggy S.O (Salivating Orifice), the Umlaut, is leaving the continent because he is working and Mother requires companionship? I think I know what motivated that villainous merchant of treachery to leave the country: straight up cowardice. "Someone" may have slipped her this note recently.

To be honest, it wasn't so much slipped to her as it was placed in Father's wallet, where she would be sure to come across it during her daily pick-pocketing. And I imagine someone then had to read it to her.

As for the whole Glamour Magazine piece, I think the question of super-sperm has obviously been answered. My organs are made of solid fucking gold you know.

Growth Note: My liver can double as a Satellite TV dish