You bes’ have my money, bitch….

I am rollin’ in the sweet gray haired honeys. I got your “Yoo- Hoo” right here...

A care package arrived from fatr away, filled with ill gotten tools to my current state of pimpin’ style. The secret? Illegally gained orthodontic supplies.

That’s right- with these black market babies, I am the man with the juice on the wards. You gots to give them a little taste of sweet, sweet sugar, and they come wheelin’ back for more. Starts1 had it right back in the day- and he should know, because he’s the Money Grip Daddy for TES, yo- but with this little gift of dental contraband, I am the Mack all up in here. “cause I got me…

A denture cleaner.

And all the supplies.

And in this beige and olive purgatory, treshness is hard to come by, yo. But I got the shizz-nit to whiten those sweet, sweet pearlies. Make ’em shine, so you can flash that dazzling, (if ill fitting) smile at the old bastid next to you, slather on the Ben Gay annd talcum and work that wheelchair, girl! And once you got it goin’ on, and you start bringin’ those watches, walkers, wills and retirement accounts to Mack Daddy F, you know I’ll let you keep those choppers gleamin’!

First one’s free, bitches. Line it up.

Bat Boy and I say thank you, KT. Way cool.


4 responses to “You bes’ have my money, bitch….”

  1. Well, it’s like this…

    Like I was tellin’ one of my sweet, sweet octegenarian honeys:

    “Scrubbed dentures make for polished knobs, bitch. Now get your wrinkled gray ass back out in the hall and make me some fuckin’ geritol.”

  2. With Dentugrip frosting.

    And now, for your confectionary consideration, we have Flagg’s entry in the Tri-State Platonic Forms Bake-Off:

    Seven-Layer Oh-So-Wrong Cake.