Candy Spelling has a new memoir coming out, which I don’t get since I don’t freaking know why she wrote a first, and in it she has decided to take oversharing to a whole new level. Because what the New York Times Best Seller list requires is to know more about saggy vagina sex by old rich biddies.
I guess Candy couldn’t let Tori’s sex life be the only Spelling-based TMI story being discussed publicly. And for the disturbing visions I can’t seem to get out of my head, I will forever hate you Mrs. Spelling.
Shortly after the world’s best TV creator, Aaron Spelling, died in 2006, his wife Candy, otherwise known as the Goddess of Golddiggers, began screwing a man named Larry. Automatically, you had to know he was probably packing wrinkly balls because it’s very rare to find a man under 30 with that name. Well, not only was he older, but he actually had a penile implant. And while that may sound pretty awesome, at least to any guys reading this whole rely on Viagra and a pump to get going, it’s actually not all that fun if you’re on the receiving end of the bionic dick.
“My bionic man could go on for five or six hours, and there is no woman, middle-aged or otherwise, who wants to have sex for that long,” she writes. “It was like running a marathon.”
Well, excuse me, Candy. I know of quite a few ladies who would disagree with you there. And the comparison to running a marathon is a poor one because those fucking suck and don’t end up with tingles and an immediate nice nap in a TempurPedic.
It also seems Candy still gossips about her sex life with her girlfriends like a 16 year old girl, while sitting around the tennis courts making sure not to sweat off their blue eyeliner, since she shared that they nicknamed Larry Mr. “Pump and Dump.” Excuse me while I try and hold back the vomit I feel creeping up my throat. She also claims she had to dump Larry because he became too “attached” (read: to her money). The clinginess, in addition to the excessively long bang fests, was just too much for Candy to handle.
As if hearing about Tori’s sex life every other day wasn’t revolting enough, now I have to hear about this saggy bitch’s FWB situations? For the record Candy, you, like a gallon of milk from 2009, are way past your prime. And any guy willing to sleep with you for hours on end is doing it for the potential salary that a kept man receives, and not for pleasure. Just ask Dean.