Cuntwell: "I Can't Get In Touch With My Manager!"

Poor Shauna!

She's just posted THIS on Instacunt: 



Reached for comment, Shauna elaborated: 

"I haven't heard from Bill Hoobastank! Is it possible he's dead, like Zacherley? Did he finally grow out of his second childhood and realize he was being a big silly old virgin, waddling after D-list celebrities and puffing around graveyards? Has he gone into therapy? 

"I've posted two dozen Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift cover versions without any input from him, and that's like, four or five days. That's a long time for Bill to not grimace and grin and do something stupid. I know he's incontinent and has a lot of nappy-changing, and he watches "2001" at least twice a day, but WHAT is wrong?" 

Shauna's notion on what happened to her manager is probably wrong. A loser like Bill could NEVER stop throwing his money away on photo ops with has-beens, and he'd rather spend money on "astronaut food" than therapy. This guy eats a pillowcase full of marshmallows for a snack. With his sugar-craving (which has made his poop almost always light-brown diarrhea) he's grinding his teeth ever smaller and tinier, like niblets of corn.  

It's possible he's in a coma, and that the excitement of yet ANOTHER "Chiller" show (oooh, Barbara Eden, the waxy-faced mannequin herself) was too much. There's a clue on the "Chiller" web page: 



It's possible he went from pissing himself to going prostrate, with a THUMP that could be heard from Weehawken to Woonsocket, Rhode Island. 

IF I'M BEING HONEST, if he was too sick to go to the "Chiller" show, we will suspend all further mention of him here, and hope he enjoys hospice care for however long he has left. If he's simply decided to stop making a jackass out of himself by posing his corpulent and creepy body next to people who were once somebody and now barely at HIS level of useless stupidity, we will likewise take pity, and recommend a new manager for poor Shauna. 

Shauna has noted that Bill usually rushes to Farcebook within a few hours of getting home on Friday night, to post his prizes. He's there the FIRST evening of the three-day show. He's so proud of the 10 or 20 look-alike photos of his gruesomely contorted face in enthusiastic ecstasy, lolling his body up against D-listers he worships. He sort of looks like the Hindenberg tethered to the mooring mast in Lakehurst, New Jersey. And you know how THAT went! 

Says Shauna, "The important thing is ME! I am already late in being discovered. I expect MUCH more nice comments, a big record deal, and Roger Waters digitizing and re-mixing all my covers for a 10 disc boxed set. I'd like Kanye West to start a feud with me and send out Instagrams of my shaved twat to the world. Have I mentioned that I recently got a marriage proposal from Darren Daft? Is that a good thing?"