He was a sullen, unpleasant, nonverbal man. I thought maybe I could break down his reticence by taking him and his girlfriend out to dinner. She ordered for him, then cut up his steak and fed it to him.

Read that a few times just to digest it. This was a grown man so emotionally stunted he needed his girlfriend to cut up his food and feed it to him. Jesus. So, as you can imagine, I tuned into “Deion & Pilar: Prime Time Love” on the Oxygen network (Oxygen: It’s Lifetime, Without The Beatings!) the other night expecting one thing: to see Pilar cut up Deion’s food and feed it to him like the goddamn retard that he is.

Instead, I got Pilar scheming with a friend about what to do with “spousal allowance”. She settled on getting a chef and a nanny. Because she doesn’t like doing anything, you see. Watching this show is about as interesting as watching my dick go limp.

I got a better idea, Pilar. How about you used that thoroughly unearned money to buy your husband a training spoon, a burp cloth and a pack of Luvs. Then I can watch you try and keep him from being a drooling idiot. CUT THAT MEAT, GIRLFRIEND! CUT THAT MEAT!