Description:

So, the Earl of Wessex and the Duke of Kent walk into a Bar, thirsty from a long day of aristocrats kind of stuff out on the playa, and starved for attention. Starved enough to poke a hole in their willy, as royalty and the refined are wont to do in times of attention famine. You know Machine Gun Kelly is packing. Have a seat, as you must now do while peeing, due to your life choices. Compare notes. I'm saving up for corrective eye surgery, you dropped your hard earned money on piercing your dick. I guess as youngster we all had different dreams. Some want to be royalty, the King of the Manor, a beautiful little Princess. Some want a steady pee stream. Some want an abomination that they can mention in idle conversation, hoping for a request to show the oddity, the freak show, their junk, as part of a casual conversation...

Anyway, show up, get a drink, ask for Dusty Weiner.