Bronson tells it like it is....
I know that I live on much in the same way that Obi Wan lives on in the Empire Strikes Back form, but I Chuck Bronson have had my heavenly peace disrupted by the most disgusting woman in the universe to ever have lived. Worse than Lorena Bobbitt, hey she was a victim of circumstance, worse than Marie Antoinette, she just had a foot fetish, worse than that racist bitch Rosie O'Donnell, Yes. This woman is worse than any woman that has ever lived.
I'm of course talking about Nancy Grace and her awful TV show which is Jerry Springer meets Bill O'Reily, only with a stinky cunt running the show. Nancy Grace is human garbage, plan and simple.
Nancy Grace of course has caused a woman to commit suicide, by taking cheap shots at her, she was oh so sure that the Duke Lacrosse team raped the stripper whom it was fairly obvious, was looking for a payout. But soiling the innocent's name, causing an unbalanced woman to commit suicide is nowhere near as disgusting as her whole stance on professional wrestling and her coverage of the Chris Benoit tragedy, in which her reporting (And I, Chuck Bronson will not say "Journalism") seems to be finger pointing with no real answers outside of this. She brings on "experts" who don't know anything and all she contributes to the conversation is sound and fury that always signifies nothing (As Billy Shakespeare put it), although I wish it was just fury that signified nothing, because the problem is it's far more cynical than that. It's artifical sound and fury signifying nothing manufactured to get more people to watch.
If there's anything a woman is afraid of is a threat to the good life they live away from the city, in a mediocre paradise they call the suburbs, however such a story scares them because a steroid freak who goes beserk and kills everyone is a red herring woman can appreciate fearing while they buy those things advertised on the televison, indeed most of the housewives watching have little to fear from their husbands, who have (a couple) spare tires. However the only thing a man fears is that his wife will find out that he's having fun somewhere without her and the nagging that will take place afterwards, however Nancy Grace somehow plays on both fears, where as a house wife watches to marvel at how close the violence is hitting toward home (You know, the suburbs away from all those foreigners.) the men can fear a woman who never stops nagging. Indeed Nancy Grace could be used as training for a man, after watching one hour of her nagging, his wife will seem like a teddy bear in the nagging stakes.
Nancy Grace being a nag, isn't the only problem, what makes her dim witted show so dangerous, is that it's a real life slippery slope in which the more people she convinces (Read housewives who want to keep their children from ever witnessing anything slightly offensive and shield them from reality) are the ones who make their voices heard the loudest. Whether it's Rosie O'Donnell on gun control, Tyra Banks on why men don't like fat chicks, or any of the unsightly "psychologists" who believe that porn and violent movies are the fundamental problem of why people are shooting up schools, their agenda is to take what, everybody else (Because women and men both love violent entertainment, which is why horror movies are so popular with the fairer sex.) loves so much, away.
Nancy Grace speaks to these moronic cunts and assholes (Because men are just as guilty as being assholes on this front, Fuck Joe Lieberman) she ends up trading in the stock to give a red herring for those who are looking for an excuse to take away our entertainment freedom and she then gives a voice to the paranoid who then erode sound logic and common sense, all needed to really solve problems. Because she does this for the money, this makes her far more despicable. At least the groups leading the march against violent media, porn, violence against animals (?) and so on do so because they believe it's right.
In a time where we go to war for ridiculous reasons, a time where people drown in hurricanes because nobody gives a shit (Especially the same people leading this crusade against the red herrings) and in a time where the Bush administration gets away with everything, providing a red herring is just downright evil. I mean after all, how can one feel right about banning violent entertainment, when our president and TV shows hype the violence all the time. Whether it's to get you to join the military or buy their products, it doesn't matter it can't be both ways.
So in all regards, Nancy Grace must be stopped. She is the fascist queen bitch that, the director of Ilsa:She Wolf of The S.S could never do justice to in a film.
Worst of all, she's annoying. Pregnant too, one can only weep for the child she carries and the horrible childhood he or she will live. The poor bastard.
Bronson's loose again.














Comments
Well said Chuck, well said indeed. Ms. Grace sounds like the kind of girl you could bring home to mom.
By the way, at the behest of our friends from the land of tea and crumpets (and bad dentistry) we have now have a Celebrity View section where our guest star columnists entries are all collected. Finally someone from England who got it right.
Posted by: pat | August 18, 2007 11:45 AM
Firstly I would like to say hello to all three readers of this website. My name is Michael Dudkioff: The Talent On Loan From God. I have a story to tell:
I remember once talking to Charlie at some glitzy Hollywood champagne party. Charlie, as always, was the center of attention with his party trick where he breaks steel girders with his head. Having tired of the girders, Bronson then started dispatching the kitchen staff just to prove he could.
That's when his eyes latches onto me and I knew instantly I was in the shit. This is what one glass of champagne does to the man. Just one glass. He walks over to me with that homicidal look in his eye and immediately my balls retreat back into my body like frantic squirrels hibernating for winter. His speech was slurred, his fists were clenched, and he had the partially decomposed remains of a French waitress still smeared across his face. A truly terrifying sight I'm sure you'll agree.
Instead of merely sparing me mercifully and breaking my neck like many of the other grateful party guests, he decided to talk to me. You could actually hear the soul leaving my body. My voice suddenly catapulted seven octaves higher like some kind of semi-pubescent wimp. The damp patch on my slacks was not a coincidence. Then The Man speaks.
"I don't like your hair, you cocksucking hippie!" He demands, grabbing a second glass of champagne from a startled hostess. Immediately upon seeing this, the remaining guests dive behind furniture in fear of their lives.
"You liberal cocksucker!" He slurs, one eye pointed at my face, the other partaking an intense stare-down with the net curtains. "You should get a haircut like a real man, like a person with a penis! And testicles! And enough gunpowder in his sack to really take those horses to town! You should get a haircut like me! Like a true fucking action hero!"
He then briefly moves away to urinate on a nearby plant, belching the tune to The Love Boat while dropping farts that smelled oddly of pickled eel. This was my chance, my golden opportunity to strike back at Hollywoods most feared, unpredictable celebrity. With my nuts safely in my hand, I cleared my throat and uttered the most ridiculous words I ever spoke in my entire life (and that's saying something.)
"Bronson! Enough of your crap! I have got hair like you! Just not on my head!"
The party fell silent. Heck, the whole Eastern district of Hollywood fell silent.
I woke up three days later naked in a swap in Utah. Ever wonder why that book about him was titled "Bronson's Loose!"? Now you know.
Posted by: Michael Dudikoff | August 21, 2007 04:22 AM