Kevin Federline Needs Those Sex Botz
Somebody better tell Tom Cruise to start pulling some strings, because a friend of his is going to need a job, fast. Isaac Hayes has resigned from his long running stint as Chef on South Park, supposedly due to the show's "religious intolerance". We attempted to run this information through the Bullshit-O-Tron 3000 (TM), but it exploded the minute we came near it with this flaming pile. What's happened here is so simple that even you guys shouldn't have much of a problem following it (that, by the way, is the closest Shrimpjaw will ever come to complimenting his readers. Enjoy.). It's no secret that Hayes is a Scientologist, unless your idea of a secret stretches to include things people don't give a shit about. Shrimpjaw doesn't know about you, but Isaac Hayes doesn't come up a lot during normal courses of conversation around the compound. It's not like we're ever standing around the Theoretical Physics Wing, shooting the shit with Kaak, when we're suddenly struck with the desire to say, "You know, Garnaal, I was watching 'Truck Turner' the other night, and it reminded me that Isaac Hayes once described Scientology as the 'gateway to eternity'. It really makes you think, doesn't it?" If we did, he would probably just start babbling on uncomfortably about how Faraday's law of electrolysis doesn't account for proton transfer reactions in chemical systems. That guy really needs to work on his people skills.

So yeah, Shrimpjaw is guessing that Travolta saw the South Park episode that dealt with Scientology. He got pissed and complained to one of the four anthropomorphic hive mind clusters that lie suspended in a protoplasmic jelly somewhere in the catacombs beneath Clearwater, Florida, who in turn called up Scientology's head PR guy, who sent a van of thugs over to Hayes' house for a little "Introspection Rundown". After viciously kicking the shit out of him for several hours (after all, that's what IR is all about) Hayes was persuaded to quit the show. Don't worry though, given his remarkable skill set he should be able to get another job in no time. I mean, he won an Oscar for composing the theme to Shaft, he was Chef on South Park, um...uh, hey, remember that theme from Shaft? Didn't it rock? Yeah, no problems for this guy. Plus, if he somehow has trouble getting on his feet, I'm sure some of his buddies won't mind giving him a helping hand. Shrimpjaw can see it now, "Top Gun II" starring Isaac Hayes, Summer 2007. We can't wait.

Kevin Federline's life just couldn't possibly get anymore embarrassing, right? Wrong. Geez, leave it to you guys to not see that for the obviously loaded question it was. In fact, Shrimpjaw is taking back that semi-compliment you were given at the beginning of this article. In its place we're leaving the mental image of Gorecki getting to second base with Bobby Prescott, Billy's polio crippled younger brother. You brought this on yourselves. Britney Spears has apparently given her omni-challenged husband a strict allowance. K-Zao will be given an unspecified amount of money each month to cover basic expensives (pot, tank tops, hookers) but he will need to get special permission from Britney in order to acquire any high cost goofs (lots of pot, designer tank tops, secret abortions). Shrimpjaw has an idea that this whole plan is going to blow up in Britney's unpleasantly bloated face. Imagine it, now instead of scooping up a pile of bills from the KFC bucket next to the bed, K-Broke is going to have to personally ask Mrs. Moneybags for the money he needs to accomplish the plethora of idiotic/sleazy things he does on any given day. This means that Britney isn't going to be able to turn around without being confronted by the greasy mass of skin and hair that passes for Kevin's head. She'll be right in the middle of taping an Oprah interview, and there he'll be, just out of frame, whispering, "Come on baby, I need that sweet popodough to get one of them asian sexbotz I been seeing on TV." At which point Britney will get exasperated, fling a fistful of hundreds at him, and watch as he rapidly disappears, leaving behind only the twin odors of marijuana and failure. On the plus side, at least she had more sense than to ask him to do chores for his money. With the dangerously high levels of incompetence that surround that man even the most simple and mundane of tasks could prove to be fatal. All that Britney needs is to ask him to do the dishes, only to return home to find the kitchen in flames, every window broken, and pieces of her son strewn around the house like confetti. All the while, K-Babyspike is lounging on the couch in his underwear, a smile of blissful satisfaction on his uncomprehending face. A job well done.

Not that it really counts as news, but Jack Black was recently wed to a semi-attractive nobody. I suppose he has the King Kong diet (as well as paycheck) to thank in helping him land the hand of Mary? Louda? Hold on, let me check. Tanya Haden. Shrimpjaw would have to say that Black came out on the positive side of that diet, because although he did not lose as much weight as Peter Jackson, he also does not look like a rough around the edges pirate. And not one of those good pirates either, like from Peter Pan. One of those real life, dysentary and scurvy filled pirates. Yes, rest assured that the ruthless Captain Peter "Hack" Jackson isn't going to be instilling any little kids with a childlike sense of wonder anytime soon. Fuck, we just realized that not only isn't Tanya Haden famous, she's not even remotely famous. She's not a model or an athlete or anything. Come on, Jack. An artist whose been in three bands, none of which anyone has heard of? This is probably going to be the only time you ever here this but, you can do better. Why don't you go back to Laura Kightlinger, at least she's been on TV.

Finally, Will Ferrell is not dead. Apparently there were rumors swirling around on the internet that he had died in a paragliding accident or something. Not true, he is alive and well, so all of you fans can look forward to many more years of watching his career plunge further and further into the toilet. Ultimately it will reach a point where Ferrell will be talking to people at D-list celebrity parties, and he will constantly bring up about how, all those years ago, people thought that he died. He will then laugh half heartedly for an inappropriate amount of time before breaking into wild, frantic sobs. Such is the life cycle of the semi-talented celebrity.