You know what? Just ignore that bullshit headline, because to be honest, I am not at all threatened by the raving superbitch known as Naomi Campbell. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kick her ass and leave her face down in a puddle of her own blood mixed with a few molars in less than four seconds. Maybe even less than two if I decided to answer her question of “Do you know who I am?” with just a quick pop in the head instead of hamming it up by spitting and laughing in her face first.

I say all this because, as we all know, Naomi likes to beat the help. Not all the help, mind you, just the maids and personal assistants who try to steal her oxygen and/or thoughts by looking at her. Which is exactly why she’s never without that enormous jewel-encrusted ring on her left hand. You know, the one that’s currently drawing some much-needed attention to that modest bosom of hers so people don’t confuse her with Mike Tyson in drag again.

The way I see it, it’s only a matter of time before I bump into Naomi one day and she tries to take a swing at me. Most likely at one of those groovy sex parties down in the meat packing district that I like to frequent. And let me tell you something right now, it’s not going to be the “Hey Champ” remark that’s going to provoke her, but instead that cute little French maid costume I always like to wear. You know the one.