Bleach that sauseetch

Brace yourself because we’re about to go deeper than a visit to Dr. Melfi’s couch.

My Sicilian grandma left me with more than fond memories of her pasta fazoo; I trace it directly to her lineage that duskied mi dong. It’s like she’s winking at me every time I catch a glimpse of my swarthy and humble hawg.

But there’s great news. Believe it or not, I can recolor my meat wand to a fine pinkish hue; a cheerful blush that at once women crave and men admire.

Celebrity endorsed.

Can’t wait to show the porterhouse.

Check out these bitches

Matt Lauer got canned. Don’t know why these two care, the one on the right looks like an ape in a t-shirt.

Lauer was making $30 million a year to put on a scarf and taste hot chocolate at Christmas festivals. Had I the chance I would have choked him to death a long time ago.

That he was playing aggressive take-no-prisoners grab-ass with sexy, hand-picked interns is probably Matt’s lone redeeming feature.