Temperatures in Arizona and California have dropped to freezing levels (“No, they haven’t.” – AZ & CA “Yes, they have, stop lying! Put on a sweater!” – me) and American genitals have all gone dormant for the rest of the winter, because the fire of my loins Prince Hot Ginge has packed up his glorious Torch of Gondor crotch and has gone back to Britain after completing helicopter training over here. One of PHG’s first stops on his welcome back tour was the Brompton Club in London where he ran into his old piece Chelsy Davy. They didn’t leave together, but some hos are still saying that it’s only a matter of time before she’s slathering burn cream on her coochie from riding PHG again. To which I say…I don’t mind this!
I’ve always liked Chelsy Davy. Like me, she’s a piece of trash and always looks like she just got up from taking a drunk nap on a toilet seat in a bar’s bathroom. If Chelsy was born into American society instead of South African high society, she’d probably be a regular on Swamp People and the local news would definitely interview her for their story on vodka tamponing. This is why PHG and Chelsy belong together. PHG loves snorting vodka and Chelsy’s Diva Cup probably smells like Smirnoff. That last part is the real reason why Cinderella’s prince fell in love with her. See, it’s written in the fairy tales.