Ol’ Marge Wants Ya to Pound Those Gays from San Francisco, Sweetie

Oh boys, boys, boys. Oh sweeties. Oh honey pies.

It was quite a summer for this old girl, and it just happens to be Ol’ Marge’s favorite time of the year. I remember our postseason trip out to California back in 1990. I took a trip out to a gorgeous vineyard the day you boys swept the Athletics. Ol’ Marge was in Heaven honeys. I didn’t want to come back. Have you ever had Harlan Estates straight from the bottle baby? I had to have that little weasel John Allen come out and get behind the wheel of Marge’s Cadillac honey, or your owner would have never made it back to Cincinnati for the parade. I called that little kiss ass every name in the book on the ride back. We had to pull over and get smokes at an Indian Reservation honey. Ol’ Marge pissed the seat of her Caddy, sweetie. But that’s not what this story is all about.

This group; you’ve got some magic with you right now sweeties. All of you, you’re just as good of kids as those 1990 Reds who went into the postseason without hitting a lick and took the baseball world by storm honeys. Except for Chapman and his whores. He’s nothing but trouble sweeties. He’ll leave you high and dry when you need him most…. Ol’ Marge doesn’t trust him as far as she can fart honeys. Trust me on him sweetie. Ol’ Marge knows trouble when she smells it. You are who your friends are honey. And his friends are nothing but whores.

Before I get to the point of all this sweetie, run down to the Findlay Market and get Ol’ Marge and Schottzie a few items would ya darling? I need to stock up on those jumbo-sized tampons for the postseason honey, all the stress is making things extra heavy down south baby. And be a real joy baby and get Ol’ Marge a bottle of Old Grand-Dad would ya honey? I want to make sure I’m extra fucked up for when that pissant Stubbs has to hit honeys. Make sure you get Schottzie girl some triple-antibiotic cream sweetie. Schottzie girl has licked her crotch raw with the way you boys have been hitting lately. The stress baby.

The moral of the story sweeties; is that Ol’ Marge has never left you. You’ve got a lot of ghosts watching over you as you enter the postseason. George Steinbrenner is in Hell baby. There’s no watching over the Yankees for him. Every step of the way, Ol’ Marge will be with you boys; just like I was for those magical 1990 Reds. I know in my cruel and callous heart that you boys are going to win the whole thing. And life will have came full circle for so many of my fine fans in the Queen City baby.

If you boys promise to play extra hard, Ol’ Marge is prepared to let all of ya in on a little secret babies. Okay, here goes. Guess what kind of underwear Ol’ Marge is wearing right now babies? You think about it a while while I light up this Lucky Strike non-filterered baby. Don’t think too hard honeys. It was a trick question. Ol’ Marge isn’t wearing panties, and I haven’t since my third divorce sweeties. It’s about comfort you know.

I wish you boys all of the tea in China, even though China is disgusting honeys. You’re going to do it this year! I can feel it! Now reach down and rub Ol’ Schottzie girl down there where it smells funny sweetie. That’s it….. Schottzie girl loves when you rub…..