Is you ready for this?
I am here today to spin my nonsensical spin about how I am a superior fighter to any that has come before me, Floyd Joy Mayweather Jr.
Ray Robinson couldn’t carry my gym bag and Muhammad Ali would be my sparring partner.
(Aside: Oops, thanks Laughing Lenny Ellerbe, to whom I am Robin to your Batman. You’re right, this is the old script, let me move to today’s spiel of sincerity.)
Folks, this is what I know about sincerity, once you learn to fake it, you got it made in the RA Rugged Man shade
So my porpoise here today is to make a heartfelt, sincere apology to Manny Pacquiao for casting aspirins about him using those PEDs.
PEDs, as you know and Shane Mosley knows for sure now that he’s learned that the BALCO Lab is not a place where they make hot dogs and sausages, are illegal in boxing.
I’ve learned now that Manny uses Pinoy Enhancment Devices, among them balut, lumpia, halo-halo and frosty San Miguel beers.
When it comes to culture, all I know is yogurt got some. I originally thought Filipinos were guys like Bernard Hopkins, you know guys from Filadelphia. Makes sense, no?
Me, I will take chicken and waffles at Roscoe’s over balut but hey, that’s just my personal perforation.
OK, so we got that out of the way, right? Al Haymon, can I get a huge advance on my $40 million purse before I pimp slap this Pacman character?
I got a few old debts I’d like to clear up and we might need more ammunition in case some punk gets fresh with text messages and we run into him over at the roller skating rink.
Punks like that, they deserve hot lead injections if you know what I mean.
I also apologize on behalf of my Daddy, the only thing that kept him out of high school was eighth grade so what do you expect? Poppa came from jail, not from Yale if you get my drift.
My uncle, Roger, he’s another state pen and not a Penn State scholar, either.
So ignore them like I normally do.
Oscar de la Hoya, you want me to apologize for him? OK, let’s say his foolish blog in Wrong magazine was just a mistake like his wardrobe malfunctions, if you know what I mean.
As for Richard Schaefer, he’s a banker. He don’t know a left hook from a fish hook, you know this. If he wants to mouth off about mortgages and throwing old ladies out their houses, fine. But he needs to know his limits.
You just count the moolah, Richie, and glad hand them sponsors.
I think Pacman is a swell guy.
When I get done with him, his face will swell, his eyes will swell and he will look like so much chopped balut.
He is also a kind guy, the kind of guy I am sure to beat like a snare drum. I will drop this chump like a bad habit.
I will hit Manny with so many left jabs, he will beg for a right hand.
So, in summermation, let me say this about that there, I’m sorry I had to stand up and say I am sorry. Now drop that lawsuit, Manny.
I ain’t got time for all this literaturegation or whatever they call it.
Don’t get me started on that dumb trainer, Coachroach Freddie. I got some D-Con in my gloves to fumigate both him and his little brown robot.
I want my $40 million.
I apologized, bitches, now pay me.
And I say this from the bottom of my rib cage.
I’m Floyd Mayweather and I approved this message because my lawyers and Al Haymon said I had to in order to get the do-re-mi, the Dead Presidents, the cash.
I am the Superior One, the who will be chilling like a villain when I defrost me some “Manila Ice.’
By the way, is that where those manila envelopes come from? Makes sense, no?
