Bitches Be Cuhrazy.

Steve Philips

Brooke Hundley


You may, or may not know who Steve Philips is, but he's currently an ESPN analyst and is the former Mets General Manager. I'll keep it short

1. Steve once took a leave of absence following a sexual harassment suit for having sex with a team employee - Rosa Rodriguez.

2. He then starting plowing Brooke Hundley - 22 year old production assistant at ESPN.

3. He told Brooke shit was over.

4. Fyi, Steve's been married the entire time.

5. Brooke writes letter to Steve's wife, discussing their loveless marriage, and her and Steve's subsequent affair. The Letter

6. After delivering the letter, Brooke 'accidentally' smashes her car into a stone pillar after zipping away from Steve's residence.

7. Brooke continues calling Steve's wife threatening, "we both can't have him"

8. Brooke makes a fake Facebook account, claiming she's 16, and friends Steve's son to get closer to the fam.


Yea, what a wacko. But I'm confused as to why men of power cannot, for the life of them, help but cheat on their wives with mediocre subordinates. It be like throwing my ps3 and flat screen out the window only to replace it with a 10 inch tube and original nintendo, without Super Mario. What a dipshit. Eitherway, the moral of the story is, bitches, be, batshit.

Air Ace

I don't know about you, but sometimes I see some little snotnoze sporting sneakers I use to bring the house down with, and all i wanna do is slap them in the mouth. And by bring down the house I mean either sit on the bench during a bball game, or spill slush puppies on. Moot. Point is, there was nothing like stepping foot into that stale smelling middle school, waiting...no, dying, for some beatup-newbalance-wearing shmuck to congratulate you on your parent's new purchase. And the beauty of it was, these prizes weren't restricted to shorts and a court or game of tag. Nah, these were with everything: khakis, oversized button downs, suits (if you could slip it by the rents), whatever. A real walk down memory lane. Oh, and p.s. I never did the no-homo Sambas.