I know, I know, the "blog chronology" of these two posts is all off. Whatever, nerds. It's called a "scrolldown," if my intern is to be believed. I caught him huffing the color ink from my printer cartridge last week, so his opinions are rather suspect.
The saddest part of this whole (alleged) Sting Fat-Sucking coverup is that dude was in pretty decent shape anyway. A bit doughy, to be sure, but fit as hell for a forty-seven-year-old man. Damn you, Extreme Makeover. Damn you to hell.
BTW, what the fuck is up with these ridiculous pouches Sting always has over his crotch? This one looks like a turtle's beak.