Saturday, October 7, 2006
Caesar's Scrote
Caesar here is just so many sorts of douchey wrongness it’s almost enough to shake the DB1 out of his brain addled Saturday afternoon stupor. In fact nothing makes me angrier than seeing a skeezy muscle-boy grasping my second favorite beer (behind PBR). If I ever catch this poobag with a bottle of the ‘Train, I might need to fly to Provincetown and track his metro ass down where I’ll drown him in Axe Bodyspray and six gallons of Vidal Sassoon Extra-Hold Hair Gel.
Princess Hottie makes me believe in the Tooth Fairy, Frosty the Snowman and Suri Cruise. She’s as fine as a shiny El Dorado on a dusty southern highway.
