Pam Anderson and Kid Rock are perhaps the two dirtiest people on the face of the earth. When they were married for about ten minutes last year, they were the dirtiest married couple in recorded history. And apparently they were one of the unhappiest too. At least Pam was unhappy. Well, she was married to Kid Rock - what the hell did she expect? Bliss? Spiritual fulfillment?
It should've been no surprise to Pam to find out that Kid Rock was a selfish jerk-off who only cared about amusing himself. Still, in idiot fashion, Pam reacted violently when Kid allegedly blew her off to go see a basketball game. The exchange as recalled by Kid:
I'm like, "Baby, I got these tickets. I'll see you on the weekend..." and that leads into her saying, "You don't care about me, blah blah blah." ... She finally comes up with this: "I just had a miscarriage" ... and hangs the phone up.
Oh, that must've made him feel plenty guilty - finding out in the midst of his excitement over the basketball game that the woman he allegedly loved had just miscarried. Or maybe not. According to Kid, Pam was actually lying about the miscarriage. Kid describes what happened when he finally met up with her after the fight:
She's partying at this restaurant, drinking champagne, jumping on the tables. I'm thinking, 'That's a quick recovery from a miscarriage."
Well, you know Kid, Pam's pretty resilient. I mean, she's managed to go on partying and carrying on like a crazy person despite having hep. So a miscarriage to her was probably like no big thang. A couple happy-pills and Pam was back to being Pam.
Of course, Pam has a response to all of Kid's negative insinuations about her. Wrote the skank on her blog:
He's bitter. It's sad to see. I don't want to battle with him. I wish him the best. I'd hate to point out habits I had a hard time with. They are personal to him and that's why we are not together. These are desperate attempts. I've moved on.
You definitely have moved on Pam. To Rick Salomon, the man Paris was fucking in her infamous sex tape. And apparently you're marrying the man too. So, your STDs will get to mingle with his STDs. Shit - if you ever need money, all you'll have to do is rent yourself out to a scientist. They pay five-grand for each new kind of virus they discover in you, I've heard. Girl like you could put away a couple mil easy, never have to fake-act or wiggle your stupid fake boobs or engage in any other manner of fakery again.
(source)
