The Following Post Is Brought To You By The Letters "L", "S", and "D."

Hi!!! I'm Peabs!!! I'm the President!!!

It's nice to see that you care, America. Almost as nice as it is to get your scrotum suckled upon by a junkie slutbag with scabies all over her boombalats. Almost. I mean, mars, people! Few things beat the whole burning sensation one's testes acquire after teabagging Bilbo Baggins with some eggnog raggin flaggins. Duh.

Fuck. Peabs is starting to talk like Dr. Bill Cosby. I attribute a bit of this to my massive consumption of speedballs and Corn Flakes® this past weekend. And no, my lovelies, I did not eat the aforementioned Corn Flakes®. You don't even want to fucking know what Peabs did with them. Let's just say it makes Lewis and Clark look like effing mo-mo smack-em yack-ems, even when balls deep in my Sacajawea. Pronto! Dude, SHMEARS.

Wanna tonguey-tongue my hot anus, you sassy bitch? Bovs you do. You can't handle an hour without my man-sauce marinating your gizzard like a turkey jazzing on my spanklet. Gobble gobble, dildos! If you think you look good in black, Ms. Jazz, imagine what Ratzo Rizzo looks like post-bukkake cassorole bakeoff! Macedonia!

What's that? Peabs is crazed?

Hardly.

Mind you, I have gone down on both Thelonius and Art Monk in one sitting, and find lab-maj fascism to be rather sexy when covered in my spunk-a-dunk. Dr. Bill Cosby agrees. Just ask him! Go ahead, he doesn't bite.

Wait, that's a lie! Coz makes Marv Albert look like Stuart Pankin on mescaline, circa "Arachniphobia"! Boo-jah! Right, Coz?

"Dizzee Rascal spiked your punch with Capt'n Crunch! Bozzle!"

Okay, sorry, yours motherfucking gorgeously truly got a l'il Abner sidestracked. Despite the well-known public battle between Bill Cosby and Dizzee Rascal, the Brit rapper came forward to help out Peabs with the naming of my tsunami disaster relief fund. Apparently, he and Rodney Roo thought it would be a tigs shats idea to lace my drizz with 400cc's of D-lysergic acid diethylamide and then go over the suggestions written to me by you, my pleabs of Peabs. And I must say, there were some keepers. For instance:

• Love You Long Time: Sex Tourism Fund
  
• Tears for Shmears (which, alas, had been previously used)
  
• Eat Mommies for Tsunamis
  
• Save the Asian Crackwhores Fund
  

I would like to personally thank all of you for your submissions. Howevs, the name of my new fundraiser is:

• The Obvs in '05™ "I went to Bangkok for some hashish, a suckjob and some authentic Pad Thai, and all I got was this lousy wet tee-shirt" Tsunami Relief Fund.
  

Yes, I know it's a mouthful, but so is my fucking D™, and I've never heard your cocksucking whore self ever complain about that, so fellate me! Tsunobvs!

I drop acid like New Yorkers drop names. Mmmmmmmm, and I taste so effing good. Go ahead, try some Peabs. If I weren't a waifish, anorexic, drug addicted sex freak, maybe I'd be a little juicier. We can't all be Grover, can we?? NEAR!!!!! FAR!!!!

Obvs in '05™.