Lex Jurgen - June 16, 2017
The only time to side with a gold digging second tier model like Karrueche Tran is when she falls into the sphere of tiny angry Chris Brown and his gun toting Lost Boys. You got yourself into this mess, now the grownups need to get you out.
Tran was that chick who thought it was a good idea to be Chris Brown's girl after he had completed beating Rihanna, punched several guys his posse stood up for him, and threw rocks at his mother's car. Tran would later claim Brown was violent with her, while everybody nodded and thought to themselves, you don't say. After a couple years of receiving expensive make-up presents, Tran called it off. The whole risk-reward calculus inverted.
Brown continued to harass Tran after their breakup. According to her, with not so subtle violent messages about her and any new guy she might be dating. According to Chris Brown, he simply wanted his jewelry back. Tran claimed the expensive bling were gifts. Brown contends they were, let's presume, payments to a whore who never finished her job. The judge initially provided Tran with a restraining order against Brown, followed this week by a five year extension Brown was fighting tooth and nail. It's unusual that you would even give a shit if an ex-girlfriend had an order for you to stay away from her, unless you're dancing Al Capone and you get very angry when told you have to let things go.
The unaddressed issue remains not one of opportunistic young model clawing their way into a TNT show, but rather, how the fuck Chris Brown is still a free man. He's the one black guy in America who enjoys the benefits of an overtly friendly criminal justice system. Like a Senator's son caught with cocaine and brushed aside. There was a reverse racism for a day drawing and Brown drew the golden ticket.
Brown's a menace who covers his extreme insecurities by beating women and hanging with dangerous street gang members. He should be breaking rocks somewhere and mumbling about that time the neighbor kids made him lose his virginity at eight. Beyond repair. Teach dance to the inmates and serve out your days. Nobody likes a man who bruises up the town's good looking easy girls.
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