by Reginald Phlegmingham, Duke of Crapping-Upon-Bryllshire

So it’s now almost a month into the new year, and still not a peep from my so-called rival, Lord Edmund Bryll. What is it, Eddie? Too scared to show your face? Hiding out in that skank-infested rub-n-tug place you call a “Gentleman’s Club”? You make me sick.

Let me break it down for you in a way you’ll understand. I am the man. You are not. It’s fucking obvious. Just look at me! I’m throwing close to two inches of glorious cheek wool out there for the whole world to see, and there isn’t a drip of fucking elephant jizz anywhere in the picture. All natural baby, cuz that’s how Reggie rolls that motherfucker.

LLRP. You know it. Ladies Love Reggie P. It’s a fact, and the sooner you come to grips with it, the sooner you can cry it out of your system, Eddie.

Say hi to ‘Dwina for me the next time you stumble home from the Hobo Palace or whatever the fuck you call it. She’ll remember the Phlegmer. Who wouldn’t?

Peace.

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 23rd, 2010 at 10:43 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.