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my twin brother dumb pony has always been conniving, evil, and extremely jealous.

And thanks to Nikki Bella, Bree Bella, and World Wrestling Entertainment,

I now have the strength and the courage to open up to vent and share with all of you something

that's been bothering me for decades. This is one of many tragic stories that I've had to deal

with throughout my life. Another episode of what I call growing up Tony. I remember it so vividly. It was the summer of 1991. Yours truly, Don

Tony was enjoying life with his friends. I would have my two-tone 83 Buick Regal. I'd have my

Playboy decks, my Alessio jeans, my tank top, my Sergio Dikini jacket, my imitation tag your watch,

and the Christ had jewelry. You know, these jerk-offs from Jersey think that they started a trend

with Jersey Shore. They weren't around in the early 90s people. We invented that shit.

But anyway, it was the summer of 1991 and don tony was going out

with my friends with all the clubs you could possibly think of clubs avoid the g clubs spratz on the water

pallets phase two butterfingers copacabana you name it we were. And although it was fun to get cheap pussy,

you know, every other week or so, you know, it gets old after a while, always having to take

penicillin, always having to blow drinks on chicks. I wanted a real chick. I wanted a relationship.

I wanted to meet someone special. And sure enough, later on in that year, I wanted a real chick. I wanted a relationship. I wanted to meet someone special.

And sure enough, later on in that year, I met Isabel. Holy fucking shit, people. Tits like

cantalopes, hard, natural cantalopes. Brown hair, because I don't like blondes. About 5'4, 98 pounds. And the best thing about her, besides the fact that she don't like blondes about five foot four ninety eight pounds and the best

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