PACQUIAO IS NUMERO UNO........AGAIN!!!!!
By: Iris P.Concepcion

I have lost my voice for a while but I gloat, addressed to the trying hard conehead.

Your fans are, at least, kissing via their foreheads. Nice pick-up.

But you are the loser and that cocky rooster of yours. Clottey blinked and never woke up. Thus this hearty:

Hahahahahahahhahahahahaha.

Eat my freaking shorts. You are so toast, burnt, gone. I have to seek permission if I can use your fragrance, but I think the better other would not mind.

You cannot stop the kaching/cash register from grinding. Look at the boxer's cheering gallery: You have not seen the best of beautiful girls you dirty, bad ice cream (irksome). Special shout-out to the girls of this winner's deep, passionate, gorgeous bench. One is the Daughter's Haven; the other, a Sister Act (thanks for the surprise pasaload of Ten Bucks. It is like a million to me---you wanted me to guess, there's your answer, flower power) Hehehe.

Let his punches do the talking.

There is a honey bunch lurking in every dinner and it is flying like a saucy rocket.

So do you believe, at least, for a moment, that you can strangle this boy's defense against a phalanx of senseless, loser's noise? Think again. He is no spendthrift. He designs women underpants like mother savior.

All he flashes is his grin and women swarm to his oversized, unsewed barong.

You get my point? It is all about breeding; it is all about using that breeding to good use.

Better still, it means only one word: HUMILITY.

Humility rocks. I should know.

He could bring kids inside vehicles and could kiss them like he would do his wifey. It is an original. Clever and funny. Gors The Terrible!

Clottey clotted and wilted like shitting on his huge, assy pants.

Did you see the gladiator shorts? It is better than Dan Aykroyd's comedy!

Pacquio could not help but................grin. Eat that weenies.

Smiley. That is my gift to 'ya all. :-)