Sex Offender Night at the Laundrette


When my sister and I went to the laundrette the other night, the walls were climbing with men that felt so sex offenderee. They were in pairs. They were creepy and disheveled. The kinds of men that don't wear freshly laundered clothes because they're too busy trying to hide their electronic anklets and man tits. You know... side effect from the stop fucking young boys drugs they take.



PS: Don't break up with me yet. Next week, I will be blogging wayyyyy more (towards the end of the week).

Comments

Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein said…
How could I break up with you when you write posts like this?
10:38 PM
Joe said…
Wow. I know exactly what you're talking about.

The child offenders I've dealt with usually fall into one of two basic morphologies:

1) Tending toward skinny, but not toned, maybe a pot belly, glasses that make their eyes look...funny somehow, and an inability to grow a full mustache/beard but they're trying anyway, OR

2) Large, fat and sloppy, unshaven, overly full lips, and smelling vaguely of ass and bacon grease

My partner describes them as having "that missing chromosome look"
6:03 AM
Writeprocrastinator said…
"PS: Don't break up with me yet."

Wait, wait, let me get my cowboy hat on. Ahem...













I...I, can't quit you.
5:24 PM
Dale said…
I will from this point on be using the term 'sex offenderee'. Thank you. They've got the look.
7:49 AM
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