Intro for Dec 30, 2009
It wasn’t hard to find Chris Brown immediately after he beat the sh-t out of Rihanna, an act for which he was subsequently CONVICTED. Brown was jet skiing at Diddy’s, he was partying at Diddy’s, he was courtside at basketball games, he was clubbing, he was shooting videos, he was all over YouTube, he was tweeting, he was featured in a gloriously flattering article in People Magazine – so of course he didn’t feel a need to hide, or apologise, or feel embarrassed. Why go away to regroup? Regroup from what?
Interestingly enough however, the moment his new album underperformed, as sales lagged and some stores allegedly refused to prominently display his title, Chris Brown threw a hissy fit on Twitter, waaah waaaah waaah, shut down all online communication, and then promptly escaped underground.
He’s a felon for abusing his girlfriend but still that doesn’t humiliate him enough to step back and reassess. No one wants to hear his new songs and all of a sudden he’s in hiding…? Textbook pussy play, see? This is how a coward little bitch who punches girls handles failure. A man? Chris Brown is a not a man. And no matter how hard his mother insists on it, he’s not sorry either. Because if that piece of sh-t knew about contrition he’d be relieved that a lackluster sales chart is how the universe is choosing to deliver retribution. After all, he still has his limbs, non?
It’s Wednesday. We’re going home today after 2 weeks on the road. Am blogging until our flight later this afternoon.
Yours in gossip,
PS. Casting Couch is not about Kate Beckinsale. Also not Jennifer Garner, Ben Affleck and Anna Paquin.