BEEFCAKE! BEEFCAKE!
It's Ricki Lake!

That's right, I've chosen the loud-mouthed, self-styled talk show host of the X-Generation for penetration, violation, and humiliation!

Oh, the times the sound of her parade of white trash, freaks, and fat-girl makeovers has rudely interrupted my surfing the Net for hard core pornography! The noise of her inbred, illiterate audience, chanting "Go Ricki! Go Ricki! Go Ricki!" fills me with the urge to throw a brick through my beloved television set.

I can't wait for one of her toadies to see this and tell her about it.
MU-HU-HU-HAHAHAHAHA!

UPDATE: MAY 22, 2000. Jesus H. Christ. I thought it couldn't get any worse, but it has.
In the months since I unveiled CELEBRITY ABORTION - Ricki Lake, her show has descended
to the very depths of urban depravity. I mean, the average female guest must tip the scales at at least
180 lbs - and those are the white girls! The male guests, oh, brother, gimme a fucking break!
If they don't look like they just staggered in from an extended stay at L'hotel de Crackhouse, they
came from out from under the trailer skirt at the Welfare Arms Mobile Home Park.

Do you know what I'd really like to see? An episode of Celebrity Deathmatch in which Jerry Springer decapitates
and dismembers that tubby little piggie, barbecues her entrails, and feeds them to Judge Mills Lane!

LET'S GET IT ON!