K-F*ck, who's seeking more child support from Brit (because 20 grand a month isn't enough for two kids), decided to throw himself a blowout birthday bash in Vegas. I'm sure he paid for it with his own cash. Speaking of cash, that was the name of his bash-- CASH. Nice subtle message when you're trying to get more money. What a douche. At least he donned his best sweatpants and sweatshirt and dragged his wifey to the V.I.P. section for bottle service. Did I mention his party was at The Crazy Horse III gentleman's club?
But the topper was his birthday cake designed with stacks of $100 bills printed with his face. He was quite pleased:
"This is the dopest cake I've ever seen."
Why couldn't you have hyperventilated into oblivion when you blew out the candles?
According to witnesses, Al pulled his pants down and was tinkling behind the front door of his car. A woman who saw his bare butt voiced her disgust, to which Albert responded (allegedly):
"Don't look then. If you gotta go, you gotta go."
Then, a father and his daughter were equally less than pleased, to which Albert responded by shaking his fruit bowl at the family.
Is that a corked bat, or are you just happy to see us?
Ick. Keep your jiggly Jell-o ring mold to yourself.
I really couldn't give two balls about who's in bed with whom before they become President. I do care about a president getting his knob polished while on the phone with a foreign dignitary while in the Ov(r)al Office. Wait... that did happen.
So, you admitted that you weren't physically attracted to Mr. Trump, but you rode that pony anyways because you might be cast on Celebrity Apprentice and further your pristine career. You even allegedly said you knew you'd never get cast because of your porno life, yet you still bumped uglies anyways. Hhhhmmmm.
It's time for this storm to dissipate.