Dimitar Berbatov isThe Continental

Well hello there.

I see you've caught me leading Manchester United's comeback against West Ham without scoring a single goal. Yes, such is the erotic power of The Berba that merely getting substituted into a match prompts the team to immediately begin a four-goal run to come back from 2-0 down. Just by standing on the pitch with my titillatingly brutish new haircut and my forearm tattoos exposed, I inspire goals that lead to wins for my club and hot flashes that lead to arousing fantasies for all of the Berba-babes of the world. Like you. Ha-HA! ... No, by "arousing fantasies" I do not mean "chronic night terrors." I don't know why you would say that.

I'm sure you were just about to fawn over my generosity for letting my less talented strike partner, Wayne Rooney, score a hat trick and my less handsome protege, Chicharito a.k.a. Little Berba, score one of his own. ... I don't know why you're rolling your eyes at that, but before we discuss all the sensual things you would like to do to my sideburns, I wanted to take a moment to say that The Berba does not condone Wayne's ungentlemanly comments into the television camera.

I would never use such crass language aimed directly at the many Berba-beauties watching at home. I would, however, issue an open call to join me and my cousin Timitar Berbatov in our hot tub filled with aged mayonnaise, but I would do it in a far more polite and sexy manner. Like this: Would you care to put on a stolen bathrobe and join my cousin Timitar and I for an evening of laughs, love, and overwhelmingly foul-smelling mayonnaise?

Oh-OHHH! I just looked down at my tattoos and realized that neither one depicts Sir Alex Ferguson embracing The Berba as we ride a giant seagull into heaven. Oh, this is a mild! disappo intment that a lesser man would not be able to handle. Fortunately, I am too impressed with myself to care very much. Ha-HA!

Join us again next time for another chapter in the life of...The Continental...

Photo: Getty Images