in college, I did a lot of experimental testing, too, honeygirl. cokearooney, shroomage, pot, pot and then more pot. I was never a druggie type. I always got nauseas after coming down from a high. jewey enough?!
I'm not sure what's more disturbing, the thrusting jacked sack. Or, his dirty orange palms color coordinated to match his freakpubes leading to the creepiest weepeen I've ever seen. And, I'm not even a size queen. Help me. I can't stop staring at it. Happy Halloweeeneeeee
I come here today my friends not to bury John McCain, but to praise him. To share a tender loving family values snibble of time that I hope transcends politics. You see my friends the presidential campaign trail is long and hard, like a penis, and at one point on that long, hard, soul sucking, maverick busting into party yes man presidential campaign trail, John's loving wife Cindy came up to him, ran her beerlicous fingers through his hair and said, "You're getting a little thin up there." A moment of tender humanity in the loveless inhuman world that is American presidential politics. "At least I don't plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt" Is what John McCain said by way of reply. I'm not making that up. Three reporters witnessed it. God that's hot. I bet they had steaming sex that night. White-hot nuclear powered cuntaramic sex until that makeup ran down Cindy McCain's face like water through a hydroelectric dam. Which means it...
I've made the commitment. I broke up with my old template in favor of this diva. I needed something brighter. It's been a hell of a week... to be discussed latah. This was the perfect distraction. If I stupidly left anybody's link off the list or linked incorrectly, please e-stalk me and let me know so I can correct it. Grazarella. I'm off like a prom dress for no particular reason. Okay, that's not true. I have so much to do and a gazillion emails to return. Who doesn't, right? Oy, are we busy, we millennium goils and guys. I'm listening to Georgia on my Mind and it always, always, always reminds me of my darling coffey .
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Extispicy more like!
Mom's cherry apron is hot though.
Mom's happy
Kids are happy
The pharmacist is happy
As long as dad's bourbon and newspaper is ready when he comes through the door, all is right with the world
Not that I ever went to one, of course.
I wonder if an x-laced cupcake would hit the spot. I'd at least need a cock back or a vibrator back to fully embrace the sitch.