Full Title that wouldn’t fit:
EXCLUSIVE AUDIO: Shep Smith Accuser Says Fox News Host Sexually Attacked Him, Kept Going After He Tried To Push Him Off
Nothing to see, move along. He’s a protected class.
Why did he go to sleep while Shep was around?
Bye Shep!
Shemp needs to be fired.
The #METOO moniker only applies for women being abused by men, apparently.
The only question is was John Doe #1 Anderson Cooper or Don Lemon.
Until this is proven I will refrain from using the term Degeneracy to describe this alleged encounter with the one who wears mascara proudly.
He too?
Shep’s gay? Who knew???
Hey, at least he didn’t run over you with his news van!
Not Him Too.
Eeewww.
Way too much information.
Just the sight of Sheppie’s face makes me puke.
Maybe the young Murdochs are looking to remake the FOX crew on the left as well as on the right. Or, perhaps Shep is an aggressive pervert.
Or both.
Can’t catch up on the news without gagging these days. No surprise here, but I don’t want these kind of mental pictures. Ick!!
Not holding my breath on that happening.
So do we call this one
#MenToo?
I would hesitate to call Shep a Barbie hugging Broadway-showgirl tootsie-roll-eating lizard worshiper, post pulling, brown-wind-loving pole pushing vacuum-lipped anal warrior, a carrot-swallowing poodle owning skipping little hotdog-eater, a chalk-licking lavender sniffing cheeky merry-monkey pole-vaulter, a cigar smoking giggling little donut-puncher, a Crisco-hoarding, rainbow-prancing, fuchsia puffed batty boy, a feminine-acting, stick-twiddling parade-marching ball-juggler, a gerbil-feeding flower sniffing rainbow-squatting, bottoms-up boy, a giggling little donut-puncher, a glitter-loving tail-tickling Cleveland Steamer pooftah, a ham-slamming organ grinder, a latte-swilling, boy-texting pump-a-loaf bread-boffer, a limp-wristed prancing knob-jockey , a loafer-lightening grass-tickling pounder of fudge, a merrily-hopping NPR-listening musical-favoring chin-trauma patient, a merry delicate lightly-prancing dress-favoring protein-burper, a pearl-necklace adorned tumblebunny , a petal-covered swishing basket-burglar , a pink-sequin-adorned squeeze-friendly rectum-flagellator, a quiche-slurping, glitter-coated nimble-dancer, a rose-sprinkling, first-chair rusty-trombone pole-vaulter, a rump-radar-pinging, butterbutt loving, feathered drag princess, a sibilants-pronouncing girl-drink-swilling fruity little balltender, a silent-screaming bed-bouncing pump-wearing butt pilot, a skipping lavender-scented pillow-biter, a skipping lavender-scented pillow-biter, a soap-dropping, spanks-wearing, cabana-boy-loving, turd burglarizing rug bumper, Hershey highway loving butt pirate, sodomite Sallys, polishers of floorboards, muff divers, or carpet munchers.
I wouldn’t be politically correct.
So at that time Shep would have been 40 and John Doe 20.