Well hello there.
I see you've caught me scoring a brilliant goal with the least amount of effort possible. Does this make your body quiver? It should. People often ask why I don't exert myself more on the pitch. Well, the answer is simple. First, because I don't need to. And second, because I would rather save my energy for more sensual endeavors after the match. Consider that a formal invitation. Ha-HA!
Many of my Berba-babes are calling this "the most Dimitar Berbatov goal ever," but this is not true. For a goal to earn that title, it must be scored from a hot tub filled with mayonnaise on a nude beach at dusk while I am wearing a monacle and a cumberbun and my cousin Timitar Berbatov films it using a vintage camera. And the football used must be made of eagle feathers and latex.
I would say I am trying very hard to make that shared fantasy of ours come true, but we both know I don't have to. Ha-HA!
Join us again next time for another chapter in the life of...The Continental...
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