Mario. Over Here.

I’m sorry. But I’m more than a little bent. It seems one Mario Vasquez – hot Nuyorican, season three finalist on painfully successful American Idol, thing most likely to end up in your mind during a good wanking – has been served his papers by none other than El Señor Ignoramus, Magdaleno Olmos, senior nothing accountant at such and such firm that produces said über-extraordinary smash American hit. The thing is, though, really! How fucking stupid do you have to be to admit that the God of Hotness, Mr. Vasquez himself, pulled out his pimienta con los huevos, juiced the jack and manhandled you and, now, instead of shouting from the mountaintops with glee, you admit you were “harassed?” I am down on my hands and knees praying to Sweet Baby Jesus every night that THAT will be pawing its way into the next bathroom stall I occupy. I don’t mean to get sacrilegious here. Everybody is entitled to his opinion but if anyone should be sued here it should be Mr. Olmos - for Ignorance in the Third Degree. Mr. Vasquez may be but a distant memory of American Idol contestants gone wrong. (He dropped out suddenly and unexpectedly in Febraury of 2005.) But, damnit, he deserves to be watched! His constitutional right to freedom of assembly is surely being violated here. (Cue ‘being violated’ joke.) And I, for one, stand behind you Mario. Preferably naked with a big tub of anal-safe lube and a morning ahead that doesn’t scream: Get up! You got to go to work now!




--MOC BLOGGER