Billie Jean
“At this point I would like to address certain issues that have arisen lately concerning my person. I can say, in full confidence, that Billie Jean is not my lover. She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid…the kid is not my son. Have you seen the little bastard? His looks share more in common with a crocodile in heat than my fair and honest features.
“Yes, I have met Miss. Jean on a number of occasions, even admired her buttal area from afar, but nothing inappropriate or even indiscreet has occurred between myself and this woman. Sure, Miss. Jean is one foxy mama and any man would be grateful to share a shnuzzle or two with this specimen, but case in fact I was not the recipient of any of Miss. Jean’s generosity. That fact strikes me as somewhat odd considering she really is quite the ho.
“Sure, I hear the woman ride’s the pony like no one’s business and is quite experienced in the area of certain sexual pleasures which would be inappropriate to mention in the company of such fine and august press outlets that have showed up today for this here press conference. Although, I imagine it would be unfair if I didn’t mention at least one act that Miss. Jean attacks with great determination. (pause) Excuse me as I search for the most appropriate words to describe this occurrence. Apparently Miss. Jean enjoys being top-side. One warning, though, she has earned the nickname ‘The Snapper’ for a reason.
“Naturally I have watched Miss. Jean dance, on the floor, in the round, watching her hips gyrate as her rather large areas of bustiness bounce in beat with the playing music. How can you not? When they’re as large and round as a small monkey screwed up into a ball form rolling down a grassy hill, you can’t help but stare for a moment or two.
“Once again I reiterate that at no time in recent memory have I engaged in any sort of carnal humping or coital bliss with Miss. Jean, nor have I given her my precious love seed and pollinated her gardens of goodness to produce the love child she now holds in her hands, to her breast, as it feeds on her ever-lasting teets of sustenance. Could someone get a napkin please? The beast has dribbled.
“Despite the fact I hear Miss. Jean’s propensity as a knob gobbler is unmatched, I took to heart something my Mother and some friends once told me which will conclude my official statement here today. See, people always told me be careful of what you do and don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts. That’s good advice. And my Mother always told me be careful of who you love and be careful of what you do ’cause the lie becomes the truth. Billie Jean is not my lover. Thank you and God Bless America.”
