Usher, or Raymond when he wears those plaid jackets, is struggling not to bonk everything that moves now he is married and has a baby son to bring up. Poor, rich bastard.
Whether you like Usher‘s music or not, it must be said that the boy can dance; predominantly he dances like a spaz, but he sure can throw some crazy moves together. And it’s perhaps these slinky footsteps that have gotten his erect penis into trouble before. His reputation for banging broads like a horny puppy is well known in celebrity land.
Horny Usher also has a perfume out that bears his name stencilled in big bold letters using what can only be described as ‘tattoo script’. It smells a bit like turps and takes his personal fortune up into the trillions – thus confirming his status as ‘richest man to be named after the job you give someone who isn’t good enough to be Best Man at your wedding’.
As for his own nuptials, Usher isn’t confident about staying faithful, which must be either music to his wife’s ears if she is looking for a cut of his diamond factory, or pretty miserable if she, like, you know, loves him and stuff.
Usher told Cosmopolitan magazine:
“I’m good at making love, but I’m not good at being in love. It’s a conscious decision every day to love the person you’re with“.
The man who would be Chris Eubank with a signet ring married then-pregnant fiancée Tameka Foster in August 2007 after abruptly calling off the ceremony just a month before.
This might not be the best omen in the world and, coupled with Usher’s utter disregard for why people get married in the first place, gives us the gall to pencil in his divorce for, say, February 2009.
If he has issue with this statement, Usher is welcome to drop by our offices in London and put us straight. Now that’s London, not Manchester when it should be Kent, just as the bling king so memorably muddled up during a recent gig in the sleepy southeast county.
Married life might not be the worst thing in the world for Usher though; he should give it a chance. It’s fun to put on more weight than Oprah and then slouch about in your own filth while your better half nags you about drain hair and the toilet seat. So Jay-Z says anyway.