But in ~20 minutes, heck in just a few cords to a song, I knew that my wait was over, that after all this time, it was true. The chants. The fans. The ice cream bars.
He, that guy, was the one who was 434 days, 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, 366 days a year.
He’s the Cult of Personality. 2762 days and still people were chanting his name, hoping to see him again. Like a ghost in the mirror. How do I know? I was one of them.
Or as he has claimed “I have proved to everybody in the world that I am the best on this microphone, in that ring, even in commentary! Nobody can touch me!”
Thank you, Phil, you are really the Best In The World.
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