I Flew In For The Buffet

The Emporessa of our current dick-tater has apparently decided to show up for Il Douche’s state of the disunion bloviation. Rumor has it that Melly-Mel has been avoiding her libidinous swine sleep-mate because he has decided to put his pencil into another sharpener.  The Screamer smells a night of shriekish bitch slaps followed by an undisclosed payoff to Tiffany’s.