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Published March 02, 2011
Rather than making his usual rounds at seedy L.A. bars, Charlie Sheen instead took the week off to make rounds in the press, not even a blog about inexpensive clothing for school children is safe. “This is what I do, son. Everything hard.” Sheen exclaims, “Shout out to Q-B.”

This is the sanest thing Mr. Sheen has said in days, however, Sheen finally reveals why this is the case. “One of my porn stars likes to read… and do other stuff.” Sheen cackles like a dirty old-man, rightfully so as he has hit the skank lotto over and over again. “So she was reading this Mad Libs text and boy, it gets me to my shit-loving core.”

Sheen’s publicist recently resigned, but this hasn’t made Sheen lose any sleep. “Mad Libs is my bestest publicist. My main man, ya dig? Mad Libs has never questioned me, in fact, the exact opposite. I pour my heart out to Mad Libs and motherfucker, best listener I’ve ever come across.”

Sheen’s latest head-scratching press release:

“Libs and I have been watching a lot of Sci-Fi channel and wrestling from the days when it was still WWF. Jump off a cliff, Panda. Moving along, now, those strongmen are the sickest linguists that I have ever listened to. ‘Bring it!’ My God, good gravy, that is like five billion Shakespearean sonnets fornicated in a genius orgy. Those guys and gals belong on Broadway, but in an intergalactic setting. Like on the Moon," Sheen says with his fist raised, though he admits, "Libs helped me come up with that one.”

Sheen goes on further (and further), “Mad L, is his other nickname, does all the grunt work and all I have to do is fill in a few words. Sometimes I don’t recall what an adverb is, sorry world, I’m not Kareem Abdul Jabbar, but Mad L still lets me put my word in regardless if it’s correct in this Socio-Economic world we dwell in and have hell in. If I wasn’t so sure he would give me a paper-cut on my Poseidon-esque schlong, I would totally bed Mad Libs and practice safe intercourse. And ya know, he would be nothing but supportive like a sports bra to a chesty long-distance runner.”

Looking around to see if Casey Affleck is snickering behind a camera, Sheen somehow knows this is what I’m thinking. “I ate Casey Affleck for breakfast this morning, sunny-side up. That’s after I banger her, sunny-side up for that too.”

Shaking my head in utter confusion, I decide it is a good time to end the interview. But not before Sheen insists on a game of either Twister or Russian Roulette with Mad Libs streaming on Justin TV.

 R.I.P. Charlie Sheen. Didn’t think that could happen in Twister.

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