Syndicate

OK, I've got a few problems with this scenario. First and foremost, Hulk Hogan is not an effective spokesperson for anything except birth control. As in, "I'm a good example of one of those people who really shouldn't breed." Yeah, I know that was harsh, but Hogan really doesn't know best. Neither of his children are going anywhere in life, especially the jackass with the leadfoot. Totally f**ked up his friend's life but still has the audacity to show up at car shows. Tool.

One only has to look at the parents of the jackass to understand how he could have turned out that way. "Mother" Linda just announced she's marrying her now-21-year-old boytoy after two whirlwind years of grossing everybody else the f**k out with their frankly disturbing PDA. Her children went to school with this cheap little rent-a-cock; her ex-husband talks about doing her like OJ did Nicole when he sees the boytoy driving his Escalade around town. And now he wants to sell you a little something to clean your hands. Coincidence? Perhaps not.

Billie Mays was a tremendously effective pitch man. Even if you knew better, you bought his shit, because you figured nobody could be that excited about junk. And even if you were disappointed by the product (and you usually were), you didn't hold it against him. Billy Mays was the shit.

Since his untimely death Mighty Brands has been struck silent. Who was going to Mighty Putty their Big City Sliders now? How would they keep their healthy Orange Glo? (OK, I'll stop.) Seriously, Billy left some mighty big shoes to fill.

And now this loss could be someone else's gain. Starting August 19 in Tampa, Mighty's marketing company is holding auditions for their next power pitcher, a search they expect to take nationwide. Before you laugh, think of the Benjamins - Billy was a multi-millionaire. Hey, does the new Billy have to be a Billy, or can it be a Billie? Just sayin' ...

I don't think Billy Mays has anything to worry about these days. Once a promising upstart and challenger to Billy's gadgeteering empire, Vince Shlomi has become the Chris Brown of the infomercial world.

This whole story is some weird shit. Seems Vince and a working girl named Sasha hooked up in a South Beach hotel room for a little bam pow (rhymes with Sham Wow). Somehow, their signals got tragically crossed: Vince paid her $1,000 for some sexy times but when he kissed her she tried to bite his tongue off. He claimed he had to hit her to get her to let go. Either she's got the jaws of a pit bull, or once he got started he couldn't stop.

The cops were called, but because they were both reeking of booze there were no charges filed. The cops took most of the money Vince paid Sasha and arrested both of them for felony aggravated battery (he was pretty banged up, too), but prosecutors declined to formally charge either one.