That was another time and another world.
That's not a good enough reason why all of all y'all little punk-ass reprobates can't get together and make nicey-nice. Get off of your collective cockblocking, coal-mining asses, get my puerile & prurient website back up & running, & f****** make it f****** snappy, or I'll traffic all your daughters' asses to a chess tournament.
And, leave them there. Don't think I can't or won't do it. Or, haven't already, honestly. I'll dump them right there at the bus stop on the Bobby Fischer Memorial park bench, right out front at Boris Spassky Memorial Stadium. Without a bus schedule or anything. I'll leave them with 20 bucks, a single bill—no change for fare, prophylactics, or coffee creamer.
F****** nothing. I am a lover, not a fighter, and I am a harsh and cruel taskmaster if nothing else. Now, all of you with daughters, get out there, and make me some G-ddamn money. What are you waiting for, Easter? And those of you without any daughters, get out there and make me some G-dblessed daughters.
“Daughters of Bellgab.” I like that. It's got a nice ring to it. Now, We can
all be #Legacy.
THE RINGLEADER HATH SPOKEN. *forceful Alpha *click**
