easyphloem
Branched out member
- Location
- Louisville, KY
Tonight\'s submission
How someone as talented and beautiful [sic] as Joan Rivers could give birth to a no-talent hack like Melissa is beyond me.
Unless....... this is what "they" want you to think.
What if Melissa is actually more than a horse-faced buffoon eking out a living by critiquing Hollywood's A and B list celebrities?
What if Melissa is the one responsible for Joan's continued existence in front of the cameras and on the red carpet?
How would the average couch potato know that Joan Rivers died in a horrific fiery ball on interstate 405 back in 1994? Who could have guessed how many reporters and first responders were killed to keep the secret alive? The obvious answer is, whoever did guess is already dead.
Except me.
I have been chronicling the story since it happened... but not in the traditional style of investigative reporting. I have decided to keep the goriest of details hidden (for the fragile among us), but will illuminate with broad strokes for the small audience that elects to sit at my feet this torrid tale of death, deceit, embalming fluid and Kettle One Vodka.
[Scene 1] Joan Rivers is speeding north on 405 in her brand new Jaguar. Cigarette in hand, cell phone propped between her ear and shoulder......she barely notices the 18 wheeler loaded with citrus from San Diego begin to slow down and then suddenly lock up the wheels and start to jack-knife across all northbound lanes.......
Sergeant Dale N. Dils responds to the emergency, the only knowledge he has of the accident is that it involves multiple cars and possible fatalities. He is one of the first authorities on the scene, and, according to LAPD protocol, he scans the area for possible celebrities. His veteran law enforcement eyes settle on the gnarled wreck of a candy red convertible Jaguar. His instincts tell him to go to this car first, this will be the last time he acts on instinct, as he only lived for another 10 minutes. Unbeknownst to Dils, the Jaguar was equipped with advanced diagnostic and global positioning devices, and as soon as the Jag's brakes engaged and locked up, a whole series of events were set into motion.
As he runs up to the Jaguar, he is horrified to see the twisted lifeless body of Joan Rivers, the same Joan Rivers who mocked the uniforms of the LAPD last season because they left "too little" to the imagination. He actually agreed with her about the uniforms. They had been getting tighter and more constrictive, and for some reason, the material was changed to a non-breatheable poly-blend that gave him a rash (down there). It was obvious to him that Joan was dead, not only because of the pool of blood her body was floating in, but also because of the delicate meeting between the back of her head and her pelvic bone. That was not a normal. As he knelt down to inspect the body more closely, a black-hawk helicopter landed noiselessly behind him, spraying the assembled crowd with a mind-erasing and flesh burning cloud of mustard gas.
The whole episode would be explained away as a chemical explosion following an unfortunate 40 car pile-up and would be forgotten eventually as just another highway accident in L.A. claiming the lives of 75 to 100 people.
The reason "they" got away with this slaughter of innocent life to continue Joan's death-like grip on Oscar Fever?
Moments after the crash on highway 405, a white Bronco slowly tried to evade police in a bizarre chase that involved ex-NFL great O.J. Simpson. Immediately, all the networks (owned by "them") cut to live coverage of the chase that lasted conveniently, one hour (the exact amount of time it took "them" to evacuate the 405 with bulldozers and get traffic running smoothly).
Sounds impossible, right?
Wrong.
You see, Melissa Rivers is not the b*@ch you want to f&#k with. She will eat you if she has to. Have you seen how big her teeth are? She will freaking eat you. Literally.
So. Having secured the remains of J.R., Melissa began to reconstruct her mother in a most ingenious way. In Hollywood it is easy to be "on vacation" for six months at a time. It's really just a insider term for "complete facial reconstruction", or "boob Job", or "Brazilian Wax". It means that the cameras will not expect another glimpse of the celeb until they are back from France, Taiwan, or somewhere else.
The Joan Rivers we are accustomed to seeing since 1995 is 78% machine. Her face fared surprisingly well in the crash. From the neck down, an ever-evolving mix of robotics and life-like latex, actually, withering body parts. The smell is that of gear oil and "White Diamonds" by Elizabeth Taylor (who knew?).
Yes, the scary fact is that Melissa Rivers is nothing without her mother, but she is the most powerful human-eating TV personality alive if the general public keeps on believing that the Joan Rivers they are watching is a real, live human being.
Don't take my word for it. Do your own research. Find tape of J.R. from 1993 or earlier. Scrutinize them, memorize her face. Now go and find tapes circa 1995 to present day.
Tell me that you can't see a clear change. Hell, before the Oscars in 2002, Joan Rivers openly begged Brad Pitt for a 220 volt line because she was feeling "drained". She said this on the red carpet, but nobody remarked about it at all. It's like "they " are putting it out there like, "ha-ha. She's a robot, and you can't prove it, The Skeet."
Damn.
SZ
How someone as talented and beautiful [sic] as Joan Rivers could give birth to a no-talent hack like Melissa is beyond me.
Unless....... this is what "they" want you to think.
What if Melissa is actually more than a horse-faced buffoon eking out a living by critiquing Hollywood's A and B list celebrities?
What if Melissa is the one responsible for Joan's continued existence in front of the cameras and on the red carpet?
How would the average couch potato know that Joan Rivers died in a horrific fiery ball on interstate 405 back in 1994? Who could have guessed how many reporters and first responders were killed to keep the secret alive? The obvious answer is, whoever did guess is already dead.
Except me.
I have been chronicling the story since it happened... but not in the traditional style of investigative reporting. I have decided to keep the goriest of details hidden (for the fragile among us), but will illuminate with broad strokes for the small audience that elects to sit at my feet this torrid tale of death, deceit, embalming fluid and Kettle One Vodka.
[Scene 1] Joan Rivers is speeding north on 405 in her brand new Jaguar. Cigarette in hand, cell phone propped between her ear and shoulder......she barely notices the 18 wheeler loaded with citrus from San Diego begin to slow down and then suddenly lock up the wheels and start to jack-knife across all northbound lanes.......
Sergeant Dale N. Dils responds to the emergency, the only knowledge he has of the accident is that it involves multiple cars and possible fatalities. He is one of the first authorities on the scene, and, according to LAPD protocol, he scans the area for possible celebrities. His veteran law enforcement eyes settle on the gnarled wreck of a candy red convertible Jaguar. His instincts tell him to go to this car first, this will be the last time he acts on instinct, as he only lived for another 10 minutes. Unbeknownst to Dils, the Jaguar was equipped with advanced diagnostic and global positioning devices, and as soon as the Jag's brakes engaged and locked up, a whole series of events were set into motion.
As he runs up to the Jaguar, he is horrified to see the twisted lifeless body of Joan Rivers, the same Joan Rivers who mocked the uniforms of the LAPD last season because they left "too little" to the imagination. He actually agreed with her about the uniforms. They had been getting tighter and more constrictive, and for some reason, the material was changed to a non-breatheable poly-blend that gave him a rash (down there). It was obvious to him that Joan was dead, not only because of the pool of blood her body was floating in, but also because of the delicate meeting between the back of her head and her pelvic bone. That was not a normal. As he knelt down to inspect the body more closely, a black-hawk helicopter landed noiselessly behind him, spraying the assembled crowd with a mind-erasing and flesh burning cloud of mustard gas.
The whole episode would be explained away as a chemical explosion following an unfortunate 40 car pile-up and would be forgotten eventually as just another highway accident in L.A. claiming the lives of 75 to 100 people.
The reason "they" got away with this slaughter of innocent life to continue Joan's death-like grip on Oscar Fever?
Moments after the crash on highway 405, a white Bronco slowly tried to evade police in a bizarre chase that involved ex-NFL great O.J. Simpson. Immediately, all the networks (owned by "them") cut to live coverage of the chase that lasted conveniently, one hour (the exact amount of time it took "them" to evacuate the 405 with bulldozers and get traffic running smoothly).
Sounds impossible, right?
Wrong.
You see, Melissa Rivers is not the b*@ch you want to f&#k with. She will eat you if she has to. Have you seen how big her teeth are? She will freaking eat you. Literally.
So. Having secured the remains of J.R., Melissa began to reconstruct her mother in a most ingenious way. In Hollywood it is easy to be "on vacation" for six months at a time. It's really just a insider term for "complete facial reconstruction", or "boob Job", or "Brazilian Wax". It means that the cameras will not expect another glimpse of the celeb until they are back from France, Taiwan, or somewhere else.
The Joan Rivers we are accustomed to seeing since 1995 is 78% machine. Her face fared surprisingly well in the crash. From the neck down, an ever-evolving mix of robotics and life-like latex, actually, withering body parts. The smell is that of gear oil and "White Diamonds" by Elizabeth Taylor (who knew?).
Yes, the scary fact is that Melissa Rivers is nothing without her mother, but she is the most powerful human-eating TV personality alive if the general public keeps on believing that the Joan Rivers they are watching is a real, live human being.
Don't take my word for it. Do your own research. Find tape of J.R. from 1993 or earlier. Scrutinize them, memorize her face. Now go and find tapes circa 1995 to present day.
Tell me that you can't see a clear change. Hell, before the Oscars in 2002, Joan Rivers openly begged Brad Pitt for a 220 volt line because she was feeling "drained". She said this on the red carpet, but nobody remarked about it at all. It's like "they " are putting it out there like, "ha-ha. She's a robot, and you can't prove it, The Skeet."
Damn.
SZ
