Showing posts with label Chris Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Brown. Show all posts

Dr. Phil Psychoanalyzes Rihanna’s ‘Man Down’ Video for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Burbank, California --

"Now are you sure you’re not suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)?" asked Dr. Phil of Rihanna live in front of a studio audience after viewing her controversial 'Man Down' music video. "Because in my professional opinion, you’re exhibiting all the classical signs of it. I mean I’ve seen returning vets from both Iraq and Afghanistan cope better than you have. And they’ve been in a combat situation with live rounds and bombs going off all around them."

"What do you mean?" replied a defensive Rihanna who sat across from Dr. Phil with her arms crossed. "I’ve displayed very little emotion, if any over the so-called incident."

"That’s exactly my point," said Dr. Phil. "This new video of yours is the first time you have dealt with your emotions since Chris Brown beat you up, and you’ve been living in a state of denial ever since. I’m right or am I right?"

"No!" shouted out Rihanna before recomposing herself. "No, you’re wrong Dr. Phil. So wrong."

"Huh," replied Dr. Phil.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" said Rihanna without waiting for a response. "Oh, I get it. You’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you? Well, it won’t work. I won’t talk and you can’t make me."

"Huh," replied Dr. Phil.

"Okay, okay," said Rihanna, as she began to breakdown in tears. "The man that gets…the man that gets shot in my video is suppose to be…is supposed to be Tupac Shakur (2Pac)."

The audience let out a gasp. Then they all turned to each other, asking each other who is Tupac (2pac)?"

"Huh?" said Dr. Phil.

"You know," said Rihanna. "The famous rapper that was murdered in 1996."

Shaking their heads, the audience looked at Rihanna in disbelief.

"Huh," said Dr. Phil.

Dr. Phil then rose to his feet and gave a hand signal to his assistants that stood off stage.

"Well, Rihanna," said Dr. Phil. "I’m going to help you work through you’re feelings of helplessness, powerlessness and especially denial. So that way you don’t have to vicariously endlessly reenact it through your music and videos, exposing the rest of us to the pathogen of domestic violence."

Just then, Dr. Phil's assistants walked on stage carrying an attack suit (a heavily padded protective outer garment with enlarged head), placing Dr. Phil into it.

"Okay, Rihanna," said Dr, Phil, his voice somewhat muffled by the huge helmet head. "I want you to pretend that I’m that man in your 'Man Down' music video."

Rihanna just sat there. She was still defiant, still in denial.

"I am that man. The one, who attacked you," said Dr. Phil as he drew closer. "What are you going to do about it?"

Again, Rihanna just sat there. Still in a state of denial. Though she began to turn her head away from Dr. Phil as he slowly approached her.

"I am that man. The one, who attacked you," repeated Dr. Phil, as he was just inches away from Rihanna’s face. "I am that man. I am, Chris Brown!"

Suddenly, before anyone could react, Rihanna jumped up on her feet. And pulling out a gun from seemingly nowhere, she popped a cap in Dr. Phil's ass (she shot him), making him fall back and onto the ground. Fall back and onto the ground.

Then as she stood over him, looking down at him between her legs, she fired the gun five more times until it was empty. The hammer clicking several more times into vacant chambers after that.

A horrified studio audience looked on in silence. Too shocked to react.

"Take that to the Grammy’s, Chris!" yelled out Rihanna, as she then turned and walked off stage with a swagger in her hips that is most attractive above all the rest: one filled with independence and self-confidence.

A still barely conscience, Dr. Phil slowly rolled back-and-forth on the ground, moaning as gray smoke arose from the bullet holes in his protective attack suit.

"Good thing I wore body armor underneath," reassuringly said Dr. Phil to the studio audience that gave out a sigh of relief. "What? You think I’m stupid just because I have a Southern accent? We’ll be right back after these brief messages from our sponsors. Man, this was worse than the last time. But not as bad as those poor ladies faced alone with Chris."

The studio audience rose to its feet and cheered.

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Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Dr. Phil Psychoanalyzes Chris Brown Down at the YMCA

Burbank, California --

“Now y’all maybe wondering, along with the rest of my studio audience, why I’m wearing these bright red gloves, colorful shorts and tightly laced up shoes standing opposite of Chris Brown in this Olympic sized boxing ring here at the Burbank YMCA,” said Dr. Phil “While the answer is simple enough, I’m going to kick Mr. Brown’s ass.”

“What? Wait a minute,” said Chris Brown as he stood in the center of the ring face-to-face with Dr. Phil and a referee. “Is this what all this is…a bout? Is this why you had me dress up in this getup?”

As the referee officiated, relaying the rules of the match, Chris Brown noticed something peculiar about the referee’s line of sight.

“Hey, man. Why are you staring out into space like that?” asked Chris Brown of the referee. “Oh man! You’re blind, aren’t you?”

Dr. Phil then inserted his mouthpiece, gave a nod to a man sitting ringside that rang a bell, signaling the beginning of the first round.

Waving his gloved hands up in the air in disbelief, Chris Brown was unprepared as Dr. Phil landed the first punch. An upper cut right to Brown’s chin. Surprisingly, it had little to no effect.

Dr. Phil then circled Chris Brown with his head down low behind his gloves, bobbing and weaving.

A giant plasma screen above both their heads began to play a prerecorded message from Dr. Phil.

“If you look around the arena, Chris, you’ll notice that I have all my studio audience cheering me on in my section of the stands,” said Dr. Phil wearing a suit in the video. “While all you got some homeless man that just happened to wonder in to take a nap and that we promised to give a warm meal to, just to sit on your side of the arena and cheer you on.”

A homeless man rose to his feet and let out a cheer before coughing excessively and having to sit back down rubbing his back.

“So you think you can take me on?” said a defiant Chris Brown as he began shuffle his feet like a boxer and throw out punches inches away from Dr. Phil’s nose. “Well, what are you waiting for old man? Retirement? Bring it on!”

Chris Brown suddenly let loose a barrage of punches taking Dr. Phil and his studio audience by surprise.

Soon Dr. Phil was on the ropes by the end of the first round.

As the bell finally rang, the round girl came out holding up a sign indicating the number of rounds competed in the match so far – ‘ONE’ – on it, when Chris Brown struck her on the jaw with a knock out punch he intended for Dr. Phil, sending her flying into the arms of the homeless guy.

“Damn! Not again,” yelled out Chris Brown. “The judge is never gonna believe this one.”

“What?” said a semiconscious Dr. Phil still hanging onto the ropes in a daze. “You had enough already, punk?”

As Chris Brown exited the ring, jumping over the ropes, to attend to the young attractive lady he knocked out, the blind referee quickly felt his way to Dr. Phil by the sound his gowns and moans. Grabbing his arm and raising it up in the air declared him the winner by default for Chris Brown having left the ring.

“Let that be a lesson to you, Chris,” tried to moralize a punch drunk Dr. Phil with a swollen eye, cut lip and slurred speech. “Next time you hit a woman, you’ll have me to contend with…Contend with me. Ha, I just made a funny. Oh, I don’t feel so good. Can I lie down right here? Just for a moment?”

“I’m so sorry baby,” Chris Brown said to the still unconscious woman. “But you walked into it, baby…Just like --

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Copyright © 2008-9 by Robert W. Armijo

Chris Brown Teaches Women’s Self-Defense Class as part of Community Service Plea Agreement

Hollywood, California --

“Thank you all for coming today, ladies,” said Chris Brown while wearing a white Karate kimono with a black belt standing before a group of women wearing layered protective martial arts suits from head to toe. “Welcome to the Chris Brown self-defense course for women. Now y'all maybe wondering why you’re dressed in those getups and not me.”

As Chris Brown continued to politely address the heavily padded group of women explaining to them the reason for their protective suits, some began to cower from him but the protective suits they wore limited their mobility.

“Look ladies,” said Chris Brown as he took a step back perhaps sensing their apprehension. “I know you’re used to seeing the attacker wearing the padded suit instead of the intended victim. However, since this my self-defense class we’re going to do things my way, or it’s the highway. After all, it’s my damn community service! Not yours! You dig?”

All of the women then attempted to waddle their way to the door but their suits encumbered them so that Chris Brown easily out maneuvered them, blocking their attempted escape.

“Where do you think you ladies are going?” said Chris Brown as he jumped in front of the group of padded women. “Now, shall we begin with our first lesson?”

With no choice but to stay and participate, the ladies whispered among themselves forming an alliance as Chris Brown had his back to them preparing himself with some Hatha Combat Yoga breathing exercises.

Chris Brown then turned facing the ladies, challenging them to attack him one-on-one.

As the first lady approached, Chris Brown quickly disabled her with a roundhouse kick to the face, making her fall to the ground. Though physically unharmed, all the ladies gasped with concern for the safety of one of their own.

“Okay, okay that was good,” said Chris Brown jumping up and down while cracking his neck and throwing punches in the air. “But, ah, let’s say one of you ladies snuck up on me from behind, while I wasn’t looking. Let’s try that.”

One of the ladies reluctantly stepped forward to attack Chris Brown as he had his back turned. Encouraged by the others that it was the only way out.

Slowly waddling her way up behind Chris Brown, she found the courage and strength inside her to carryout the attack. Cheered on by the others, she lunged forward only to be greeted with a Bruce Lee backhanded fist to the face, sending her crashing backwards in slow motion onto the matted floor.

“Okay, okay that was good, too,” said Chris Brown now breaking out into a sweat as he paced back-and-forth before the ladies like a tiger stalking its prey. “But, ah, let’s say that while we were walking down the red carpet, your cell phone started to ring. And I ask you who is it and you lie to me saying it was your Momma. When I know it’s some guy texting you somewhere amongst the hordes of your so-called fans. Then I suddenly popped you in the face like this.”

Without warning Chris Brown sucker punched one of the ladies dropping her to the floor. Then he began to pile drive her like a wrestler from the WWF, jumping up and down on her with his elbow.

Chris Brown then reached down giving the woman he had just pile drove into the ground a hand up.

“No hard feelings, right? It’s nothing personal. All par for the course,” said Chris Brown as he then disappeared out of sight for a moment before returning, wheeling out a cutout cross-section of a vehicle similar to the one he was driving that ill-fated night that resulted in his conviction and subsequent community service.

“Okay, now how about we test my self-defense skills in a confined space?” said Chris Brown as he sat behind the wheel and buckled his seatbelt. “Who’s next?”

Copyright © 2008-9 by Robert W. Armijo