“HOW DO I LOVE ME? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS!” (By Pitiful Pathetic, Putrescent Phillip). OK, fans. I’ve hit my wall on Phillip! He’s a disgusting blend of Johnny Foul Play and Rotten Russell. Rob nailed him: “He’s the most unaware person I’ve ever met”. Ben Franklin said it best. “A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.” (As proven by his ever so small whatchamacallit that he likes to show us every week). The man has the social IQ of a stump. He totally sucks the shine out of the sun. He could strangle a lizard with all the dust he kicks up about his narcissistic, delusional self. If we could, all but his Mama, would be throwing rotten eggs and tomatoes at him. He’s the most disgusting pack rat of conceited filth to ever gag a maggot. He’s a complete mental case! He’s intoxicated with extreme delusions of grandeur.
There are no redeeming qualities here. His mind got shoved into a mush pot forever. He struts from drama to drama. He’s living proof that a person can live without a brain. “Dear Mrs. Shepherd. Your son is living proof that a village somewhere is deprived of a total idiot! When his social IQ reached 40 you should have sold him!” DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR HERE?! The memory of Phillip will forever be a red flag for anyone wanting to taut oneself publically. Cut us some slack, CBS. Find a way to help Phillip do a major skedaddle off our island! To put it mildly, this very small, bitsy, teeny weenie pecker head has taken up enough of our time and energy! Like an old farmer told me this week, “I hope the sorry ass low life man don’t have the balls to show his butt ugly face here in Oklahoma!” Whew! There! I got that off my chest!
