An Open Letter to the Aye-Aye Communist Cabana Pool Boy Imbecile Scott Wolkoff: To wit: Or in your case, to half-wit, I Count Greg Amici, have been attempting, with all due modesty, to not incorporate my innate powers in, to chastise you, in what you may call a "dialogue," but I, as your better, would term "failed instruction." To my point, I am the Count Greg Amici, descendant of... many great people. While my great whatevers were winning battles in Sardinia, your ancestors were selling rotten fruits to fellow commoners suffering from plague and pleurisy, depending on time and circumstance. Therefore... Should we happen upon one another -- and I pray that such an occurrence will never occur -- you will not be required to bow with your pink tomato nose touching the dirt, times being what they are. Nevertheless, you are to look askance and not make direct eye contact. My reasons are twofold. A- you are my slave. B- looking at you could cause me a great deal of bad luck. Please respect the facts that history has presented us, and eat shit accordingly. Goodnight to you, Count Greg Amici
Posted on: Sun, 01 Sep 2013 04:23:17 +0000
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