Our Hidden Kentucky Mountaintop Sex Mansion

One of our many whorse

I’d like to be the first to welcome myself back to Big Ol’ Tire Fire. The courts have allowed that I can change my vote from the last tribal council, and so I’m back on the island. They also ruled that we can’t vote drunk anymore, but that ruling only applies to BOTF tribal councils, not general elections.

Craig sawing on the titty table

Whilst I know well that our fans hath missed me and mine precious old-fashioned pronouns terribly, you readers should know well that I have used my time to wreak a great fortune on the human race-the Big Ol’ Tire Fire Hidden Kentucky Mountaintop Sex Mansion.

The new BOTF-HKMSM is nearly complete, and what a project it has been! I only have time to write this now as Ernest Borgnine and his crew are oiling the floors.

Secret blend of seven herbs and oils = bitchin' slippin'

It sure is lovely up here in the hidden mountaintops of Kentucky! The dildo trees are in bloom, and the pussy willows are singing! I can hear lube gurgling from a spring on the mountain below, and it excites me!

Jason pilots the super shuttle

Wouldn’t you like to come visit? Wouldn’t you like to come through the foyer fellatio, stretch out on the sodomy sofa, and put your feet up on the handmade cunnilingus coffee table? Maybe read a sex manual you pulled from the the bukakke bookcase? Or do it with me?

Like Elvis sang: "There's one less/ smart-alecky landscaper/ in old Kentucky tonight"

Well, you can’t (unless you’re super hot and willing to ride the Super Shuttle blindfolded). This place is top secret. We’ve already murdered Sean Penn (the landscaper) to keep this place a secret. Ernest Borgnine and his crew are next. So fuck the fuck off.