Ric Flair is a wrinkled old bitch with saggy mantitties and a retarded face. He walks like he has a cactus up his ass and wrestles like he has a cactus in his diseased dickhole. He’s a dimeless shitter who got carried by better wrestlers and carnied a bunch of poor inbred fucks in the Carolinas who thought he was cool and rich when he was just a wannabe and a fag. He raised a son who died like a scumbag cunt in a negative star motel with a needle in his arm (KWAB), another son who looked like
wish.com Darby Allin and wrestled five times as poorly, and a third son who grew his hair out, got some dollar general tits, called himself Charlotte and got a big push because Jerry Lawler sucked his/her/their cock in a Cracker Barrel bathroom in Greenville S.C. and that was the only way that he/she/they would keep his/her/their mouth shut. He got worked into getting married, jobbed hard in the divorce and then put a ring on the next harlot who could dupe him into making the same damn mistake over and over and over. He’s ugly, he’s stupid, he’s overrated. And worse of all he’s disloyal, repeatedly mortgaging his reputation and the good will he, against all odds, managed to build over the decades for paydays in TNA, the indies and now, at 74, AEW, where he’ll wrestle a match in which the biggest bump he takes is the dump he takes in his sperm-encrusted wrestling trunks while teaming with stink and his tranny kid’s husband against three good for nothing jobbers who the world will only remember for being in the ring when The Nature Bitch Dick Hair finally fucking dies in the ring to the relief of anyone paying attention to the slow motion freefall that is his life. Fuck Ric Flair and fuck you. Eat my nuts
