I DO recall thinking Scuttlebutt's bottle opener overbite would be perfect for scratching an ankle itch…

Plus, he DOES have a proven track record of fusing his flagging 2-ply face to shoe leather at the drop of a deuce. And, as they say, it's always the last place you look…

Yeah, I know a place where he cuts quite a distinct figure, and it's not just because of the electric neon pink Norman Bates motel sign advertising VACANCY in florescent flickers between his steaming teakettle ears, VERBALSMACKTARD. You ready for it, you frothing fucksmudge?

 UNDER MY BOOT.

Right.

Now, in all the hubbub rising up from your crowded airline capacity colon at the reception of my beautifully masterminded "no game theory" regarding your complete lack of blogging ability, you grime laden grease spot on the information superhighway, I'd almost forgotten the original question. Who's going to win this pivotal match up to determine the fate of the blogging UNIVERSE?

...but you're so dense that you believe the tingling sensation in your floppy funhole is your ass falling asleep, and not the liberal application of BenGay to your snausage digits as you engage in a frantic thumbwar with your nosebone pierced sphincter, you infinitely stupid dip stick. So let me just field this final jeopardy question for you, shit truffle.

YOU ARE THE PROPERTY OF TROLL TRACKERS

But don't fret, you steamrollered flat skid mark, here's a consolation prize for being such a willing heavy bag.

_TT

Now make like Stud and gtfo