Poor Kris Humphries has become the ultimate cure for my writer’s block. Who needs an imagination when the most, cursed ex-member of the Jenner household, whose name just happens to be the same as mine, keeps providing me with little tidbits of brilliance? For someone who only averages seven points a game, this guy sure does get a lot of press.
First, we married Kim Kardashian. Two months later, we separated before we could even open all the wedding presents. We have since become a social pariah. If it weren’t for all the badmouthing, our fifteen minutes of fame would have been up before we could say decathlon. To make matters worse, some woman is now suing us for knowingly giving her herpes. Fortunately, I know a good attorney.
Of course, I’m not talking about me, even though I’ve been known to be a tad promiscuous in my day. But passing along the Herp? Never. I am happy to say I am communicable disease-free, thank you very much. But Humphries, with whom I’ve had my fair share of fun ever since his name hit the public eye, is currently being sued by Kayla Goldberg, who claims he gave her the disease. You’d think, knowing he had bedded a Kardashian, she would have suggested a condom.
As a basketball junkie, I’ve known about Humphries since his college days. After all, when someone famous comes along bearing your same name, albeit incorrectly spelled, you tend to follow their career a little more closely. Who knew, years later, my name would become a regular feature on TMZ’s webpage?
So, Mr. Humphries, I continue to wish you only the best. Take comfort in the fact that there are still a few of us in your corner. I’ll even throw out all my Kanye albums if you like.
Oh, and one final word of advice. You may want to use better judgment on who you ask out next time.