Well ever since Rovey's boss got down off his high llama and *finally* said out loud how important my Porklepants was to his recanonization campaign, people have been asking me why he got called "The Architect". Well I plum golly don't know, seeing as I've sure never seen my gorgeous goebbelbum doodling around near any drafting. Though maybe his boss was referring to the impressive monuments Rovey's known to erect South of the Beltway, or perhaps his always-souped enthusiasm for laying pipe and pitching big tents. He's so goshdarned swift at the latter, I swear it's as if he totes around his own pole so as to be ever at the ready!
Ooops! Must run, RoveHos - Rovey's swell pal Mr. O'Reilly is coming over tonight for a big ol' falafel feast. I've never sampled his special blend, myself, but Rovey swears that munching down on a pocket stuffed to busting with Foxy's crusty balls is so super swoony luscious, I'll probably need both of 'em helping me into the shower to recover. Sounds awfully saucy to me!