Kanye West: Give Chris Brown a Break.

No.

That should be the entire post, but I'll take it a few steps further. When I thought it wasn't possible for Kanye West to have any less credibility, I learned that I was mistaken. Silly me. Why all this judgment, man? I mean, who hasn't punched a girl in the face before strangling her into being unconscious? I haven't, for one, which seriously tarnishes my image as a bastion of malevolence. So, I'm going to pass judgment. Chris Brown is a dick, Michael Phelps is a pothead (Who didn't see that coming?), and Alex Rodriguez had sex with a 70-year-old woman.

But out of them all, Chris Brown is the biggest douchebag, shattering the perception of trillions of young girls who actually think all those r&b singahs are these really sweet romantic guys. Those girls will be shocked to find out that if a guy is smooth, polished and says all the right things, it's because he's had a lot of practice. They're like those guys who do bicycle races; they have a lot of practice getting onto bikes and riding them, riding them all day long.

I'm going to go overboard on purpose and say that Chris Brown is worse than Hitler. Fuck him. How dare he. This affects me personally, because someday, Rihanna and I are going to be together, and have so many beautiful children, who I will form into an unstoppable Soccer team which will square off against the Duggars, and the Octopus-Mom's (So-named because of her vile tentacles) kids in one huge soccer match, so if Chris Brown ruined Rihanna's face, then I will have to make her wear a bag over her head on the honeymoon. After all, I have posters of Rihanna all over my room, and have all her albums, including the ones that haven't even been recorded yet, and have sent her exactly 92,391,019 letters, most of which I mailed last December. I loaded them all into an enormous garbage bag, which I hauled to the post office three times a day, and just poured them all into the mail chute. Hey, I'm just doing my part to Save America by wasting money.

^ all lies

But seriously, Kanye West's opinion means nothing to me. If it was a decent rapper, like say, Talib Kweli or Nasir or even that weird creepy guy from the Black-Eyed Peas saying to lay off, I might consider it, but in this case, I will not, considering Kanye's lyrics are wickity whack, and that he thrives purely on grotesquely outrageous statements and his "unique" sense of style, which essentially means he deliberately wears mismatching styles of attire/bright colors/shit people in Germany wear. Oh, how profound. There must be a magical grey cloud of cynicism raining drops of contempt all over my head, because I find myself surprisingly unmoved by his decision to wear plaid pants with a bright pink sweater. I must hate art or something. I suppose I'm one of those "haters" he frequently references that takes time out of our busy schedules to let him know that his lyrics and his cloth-based vehicle of self-expression are a gigantic mass of nuclear bullshit from the 9th dimension.

Well, I'm off to go punch major female pop-singers. Don't judge me.