Dimitar Berbatov is…The Continental

Well hello there.

I see you've caught me chewing gum with my mouth open. I do it this way so you can see the eroticism of The Berba chewing something that's been dipped in the finest honey and dropped on the floor of a local KFC. You're getting aroused now, aren't you? ... Well, you should be. Ha-HA!

While you watch the floor gum tantalizingly dangle out of my mouth, you should also take note of the regal throne on which I sit while my teammates play football matches for my amusement. ... No, it's not the bench -- it's a throne. As you can see, Michael Owen -- a tiny man I have a come to know quite well over the last year -- is sitting below me because he is on the bench. I, however, am on a vibrating throne of virility! Because no one else is on the superhuman level of Manchester United's greatest ever goal scorer. ... No, I don't know who this young person to my right is. I'm assuming his name is Bill, though.

In fact, it is from this throne that I oversaw my protege Chicharito a.k.a. Little Berba score our goal against Liverpool, utilizing everything I have taught him about scoring and peeping and mayonnaise. Whenever you see Little Berba score a goal, you should probably just assume that I scored it myself, since I taught him everything and I'm the one on the throne. ... No, I can't give you his phone number because I don't have it. I do have pastel drawings of you in various states of undress, though. Ha-HA!

Oh-OHHH! My gum just fell out of my mouth again and in my expert seduction of you, the most beautiful of Berba-babes, I have failed to call for the five-second rule! Oh, this is terrible! It has to have been six, maybe seven seconds by now. I -- I'm going to pick it up and chew it again anyway. Yes, I'm chewing it. My sensual powers will surely neutralize any bacteria or venereal diseases it now contains. Now. Let the kissing begin.

Join us again next time for another chapter in the life of...The Continental...

Photo: Getty