…Heh…

…I was told I could find my Belt here, stuck between a cock and a tard’s face…

I guess I shoulda’ figured things would go south of the border in the Federweight Division once I was gone, and in this case it has literally.

Now, now, Hunter, before you get all emotional and start callin’ yer’ Racial Fairness Act rep, tellin’ them you got yer’ feelings hurt by a twelve yearold girl, just know that I’m not a racist. All of these Trump-suckin’, cousin-lovin’ clowns who try biting ma’daddy’s style might be, but not me.

…My name is Dolly Waters, and I’m here to take my belt back…

Now I know your lovely lot lizard-like lady friend has as equally a big mouth as yours, but she also has an Adams apple bigger than a Hillary Clinton blood-clot, so I’m just tryin’ to figure out who’s really the man in this relationship.

The Supreme Court ruled in favor of same sex marriage Hunter, so congratulations guys! I’m all for equality, but once Roy got his wart-infested wiener sliced off and changed his name to Joy that waved his man card permanently.

We all get it Hunter. You’re so suave, you’re so hip, heck you’re wittier than an episode of Big Bang Theory on TiVo; but one thing you’re not is impressive. Count me out on giving a crap about a man who constantly gloats about going home to bang his Bruce Jenner inspired soulmate every night.

The only thing impressive about listening to you ramble those mundane, sorry assed excuses for insults from your pompous peter pealing pie hole, is watching Joy-boy’s nips harden on her implants every time before she cuts you off, heck I didn’t even know that was possible!

..You two are so gross together it’s almost cute…

Just like having to dissect one of those poor little dead piggies in Biology class. Well in this case a dead frog and a dead pig. And just to reiterate, I still can’t figure out which of you two is Kermit and which is Ms. Piggy….

But it doesn’t matter, because you’ll both just be nesting in a trashcan somewhere once I’ve verbally ripped out yer’ innards.

I’m sure you’re itchin’ worse than yer’ pubic hair after Joy popped yer’ cherry to try and cut me down, aint ya’ Hunter?

You’ll likely call me worthless as you frantically scream and curse like a turrets boy who’s had too much red koolaide. Then you’ll try and rip on me for being country, and you’ll try digging up some pseudo cliché on southerner incest, yadda, yadda, yadda...

…But it will all be for naught…

I’m better than you.

This twelve year old girl is better than you.

To hell with whatever you accomplished before returning here, nobody cares. You lucked up and won the belt from a worthless champ, and damn near lost it to a Trump supporter!

Can we say, L-O-S-E-R?!?