Monday, 21 July 2014


casey kasem, jean thompson, jean kasem,
 meaning when he still had his wits about him 
but not enough to realize that he had married 
a much-younger madwoman.
I don't usually pray to God because He has never once answered my prayers for a massive lottery win so my time is obviously better spent hunting sugar daddies. However ... and you are going to LOVE how I seque from sugar daddies into this one ... even I would make an exception if it would help Casey Kasem get tucked into the goddam ground where he belongs. Because not only was the poor bastard the subject of a bloodthirsty tug-of-war during his final days, but the battle has waged even more furiously on after his death. 

Kasem has been dead for more than a month now, but hasn't been laid to rest yet because his kids want an autopsy I don't know, something about not trusting a woman who'd spirit a demented old man away from his children and have him treated by witch doctors and his trophy wife doesn't. 
But wait, it gets better. Because now his body has gone missing, and when I say "missing" I mean smuggled into Canada for a private autopsy commissioned by his wife. (Editor's note: I can't even sneak an extra bottle of rum into my luggage without getting detained at customs and this broad somehow got a dead body in? My note: I'm sure she told them it was just vegetables.) 

The crazy bitch plans to have him buried in Montreal despite his stated wish to be buried in Hollywood Hills, because the man had Alzheimer's so nothing he said matters except the part where he put a ring on her finger and gave her what turned out to be fatal control, is how her logic appears to be unfolding. If there really were a God, He'd be making Kasem arise from the dead and smother her with her own hooters. Seriously. The very fact that this hasn't happened proves the Creationists are insane. 
And at this point, I'd like to conclude this hallowed vesper before I wander offscript and get myself permanently consigned to Hell. Amen.

EDITOR'S NOTE: If that happens, just marry Jean Kasem. She'll get you outta there.