Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s Amateur PR Corner: Angry Mel Gibson Edition

Once upon a time, when Mel Gibson would get angry, things had a tendency to get hilarious:

sugar tits

Sugar tits?  Sugar tits.  You gotta love it.

Sure, it’s vulgar and demeaning to women, and I’m hardly saying misogyny is ever defensible, but you also get the feeling that he intended it as some sort of sweet talk, in which case he might as well start quoting Showgirls instead of love sonnets.  Besides, that phrase is positively quaint when you consider the nightmarish word garbage that makes up first, second, third, or fourth (and most likely more TK!) recorded rants directed at his wife, Oksana Grigorieva.  Seriously, nothing punctuates a Hallmark greeting card quite like “Sugar Tits,” though you’ve gotta admit that “I should’ve woken you up and said f*cking blow me, bitch!  I should’ve f*ckin’ woken you up and said blow me!  You would’ve liked that better, yeah?  But you need the goddamn sleep!” makes a great Valentine’s Day card from that special man who never puts his own needs before yours.

Anyways, seeing as I’m a total pro at rehabilitating busted-ass public images (when I’m not being a total queen, at least), let’s all take another little trip over to Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s Amateur PR Corner and see what–if anything–can be done to help Mel Gibson save face in the public eye:

JUST KIDDING, HE’S DOOMED!

See what I’m talking about?  A spoonful of sugar tits really does help the medicine go down.  Now if you’ll please, sir:

After all, there aren’t any laws against being The Worst, but robbery most certainly is a crime.

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