The Undersexed World of Jacques Doucheteau – Episode 4: The Sleeping Sharts of Miami
I work with some very strange people. I mean, we all do…but the folks I work with are REALLY effed up. I could write a new HBO comedy series based on my work life, but nobody would buy it due to it being “not believable”.
For starters, I work in a manufacturing plant, which by itself attracts plenty of lower class, underprivileged, low IQ, no-college, white trash, crackhead, maniac, weirdos already. Not to mention this plant is situated in one of the more “socially diverse” cities in Oregon, replete with a nice mix of urbanized hippies, rural rednecks, suburban meth moms, college-age pot heads and pseudo-bohemian hipsters all drawn together by their lack of education and incentive to do anything worthwhile with their life.
I have to deal with folks like Halona Crow Foot, who up until a few months ago was known as Frank. Originally a strange Native American man with an obsession for anything that shoots projectiles and kills living things, showed up one day wearing full make-up and Go-Go boots, insisting on being called by “her” new name. Management was already about to fire him…sorry, her…for falling asleep on the forklift…WHILE DRIVING…and causing an accident, but now is faced with the awkward position of firing a newly-converted transsexual. Not that they’re necessary afraid of a lawsuit, but they don’t want to be thought of a “unprogressive”. So they kept Halona on for as long as they could until he (she) got into another accident, failed the drug test, and they had to fire him (her) in order to keep their workman’s comp insurance. That didn’t stop her (him) from spending the next three weeks with a sign and sundress out front of the plant protesting the “discriminatory practices” of the company. We’re off a freeway, and NOBODY pays attention to a fat woman with a goatee protesting stupid crap. Well, that is until she showed up one day with an AR-15 over each shoulder yelling something about the 2nd Amendment and little bighorn. That’s when the cops were called.
Or there’s Keith, one of only three African Americans that works for a company of 250, and the only flaming gay man that we know of on site. He’s also a conservative Republican, which is of note because whenever politics comes up in a conversation it usually ends with him calling Obama a “purple lipped monkey bastard” and some rant about how we should kill all the poverty stricken and homeless. He still has a job, and is guaranteed one despite him testing the bounds of our anti-harassment policy by continually threatening some of the younger men on the staff with violent ass rape. Seriously, what is HR to do? Tell the NAACP that “yeah, we fired the one gay black man on staff because he’s always saying the ‘N’ word, calling Obama a ‘purple lipped monkey’, and threatening to rape all the new guys because of how much ‘fresh white ass’ turns him on.” No jury in the world would convict this guy.
Oh yeah, the picture above. Three guys all wearing board shorts, sporting Jesus bling (albeit only one of them), oversized sunglasses, lobster abs, overly manicured facial hair, and just general pumped up douchiness are an affront to civilized discourse and conduct. Big flippin’ deal.
However miss dark-haired Jenny gives a subdued grin and sublime belly pooch I would paddle most heartily with the stretched out skin from my last hemorrhoidal lesion. Most heartily says I. I would drag my tongue through a WWI-era trench of putrid corpses and mustard gas whilst perfectly enunciating every syllable singing “Five Fruit Flies Flew” at 256 BPM for the oft chance to get the skin on my derriere scorched off with a lighter and can of WD-40 produced in China by a 23-year-old woman with pancreatic cancer who watched 15 seconds of the same makeup tips Youtube clip that Jenny saw back in 2010 and has since forgotten about completely. Damn gurl.
Still ain’t brave enough to run the retard bit, eh? Well that’s cool, at least this one finally made it up. Woo!
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It would be funnier if my strange work life wasn’t true, but it is. And one fired weirdo is simply replaced by another. Like the recently fired Dave, who married his son’s ex-wife, cheated on her with an even younger girl by the name of “Mentos”, and accidentally stabbed himself in the dick on the job with a box knife. He even filed a workman’s comp claim on stabbing himself in the dick.
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He was shit canned for getting in a forklift accident that involved driving through the side of a trailer….not for the accident itself mind you, but failing the piss test. And not pot either, but fucking meth. That shit only stays in your system for a couple hours, which means he had to have been mainlining it in the bathroom on his break.
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He was replaced with Alex, your every day 6′ 5″ metal head with a melon the size of a…well, melon. Hair down to his back and a wooly grey beard to match. He was quickly given the nickname “Undertaker”, not for his striking resemblance to the famous WWE superstar, but that he drove an actual hearse to and from work. His lunch usually consists of an entire large pizza and 2-liter of Dr. Pepper, followed by the most bellowing demon-spawn belch ever heard by man or beast. It actually made a guy piss himself once, but this was also the same guy who had to leave work early once for, quote, going to the bathroom and having the stream split and the upper half going in his mouth.
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All superficial scariness aside, the Undertaker was really a fun loving gent. We learned one night at the local bar after work that he was really into karaoke. Cindy Lauper, in particular.
If you click on the pic, the title changes to the jpg file name.
I loves me some alternate universes.
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Hawkings
Episode 3, about humping the mentally feeble met on bus rides, is genius.
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But alas too much for the sacred PG-13 rating that keeps folks flocking to this site in the two’s and three’s.
How ’bout you just imbed the pic of Shoshana in one of your comments, and I’ll “respond” to it. Eh?
And who the FUCK cares? It’s obviously only the two of us at this point. Everyone else has bailed this desolate ghost town of a web site.
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Pussies.
Wrong, Mr. Doucheteau! There is a very attentive lurker here with you, who’d be more than happy to read about your adventures with the mentally challenged.
I’m betting the pink blow-up is the property of Mr. Red Shorts.
@ Jacques
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Thanks for:
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1. Letting me know that the place where I work doesn’t even hold a candle to where you work in terms of fuccked up people and the stupid/weird shit that they do.
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And.
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2 Making me laugh so fuccen hard that I have actual tears streaming down my face. With the way my day was goin’ the next person who came to my office to bug me was gonna get a combo rectal exam and stomach stapling all in one.
Can I write in stories too, Son?
that was fukin funny. Astonished there was no link to accompany it, JD. Is it possible to paste the retard chapter into the comments section? Or the alternate universe comments?
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I just spent a weekend in CO and so my memories are still fairly difficult to sift through (by the way, bought WAY too much for a three day weekend so the lunch server on Sunday got a nice tip of $70 in fresh buds- and I still tipped on the bill!)
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Anywho, my first shitty job after college was schlepping cars at the Enterprise rent-a-car. I’ve forgot most the stories of the dredges we had to accommodate with 100% satisfaction guaranteed service but suffice it to say, it was awful unless you worked in the nice neighborhoods with the soccer Moms getting rental car coupons while their cars were being fixed.
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So we are fairly slammed with 3 lines of people, 3 deep behind each computer terminal. Branch manager taking duties on one of them, and in walks this… thing. Actually, it looked like Cousin Itt from Addam’s family. This mop of beastly hair with a burly build, waddling into line. After a triple/quadruple take, my best guess was a chick because of a vague bossom outline.
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So she finally steps up in the line the Boss-man is attending to and he goes “How can I help you sir?” and she says
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“No, it’s ma’am, actually”
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“I’m sorry sir, what was that?” – like really loud, so the other 8 people in the room can hear this now
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“I SAID- I’m a woman, thank you”
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And everyone just froze. Silence. Trying not to bust laughing as much as possible
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no apology, he’s so shocked- “well, OK, ma’am- do you have your receipt?”
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Then the dude sends her my way for the free ride home and she goes on about how it happens all the time since she is a body builder and has a man’s voice etc. Chick probably really is a man by now- sex change stuff wasn’t so common place then, but she looked every bit a man more so than a woman.
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Of course when i walked back into the office, all of us employees just started laughing our asses off- and from then on it was a daily joke with the Boss-man – “this contract says a male driver- you sure that’s not a woman you just rented to?”
The three broads in this picture give me the Fat Pants, if you catch my drift.
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Here’s a little ditty that reminds me of The Rev.
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http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=kp&v=byDiILrNbM4
Oh, and I ain’t goin nowheres, as I ain’t got nowheres else to go. And shit.
As underprivileged, low IQ, no-college white trash I am offended, yet fascinated by Jacques’ story of workplace diversity.
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I am grateful that DB1 hasn’t pulled the plug completely on the site, but like others, disappointed that we can’t enter a period of anarchic chaos.
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We must remember DB1’s name is still, however distantly, connected to this site, and content filled with depravity and vulgarity could jeopardize his career producing educational programming and high-culture Masterpiece Theatre episodes for PBS……
…………..I mean sexually gratuitous, soft porn reality TV for MTV.
Great clip DW. Got me into a good working at home for as long as I can see straight vibe. I’m OK until I start missing 100’s of acres and dairy quotas and grain elevators and shit when I’m doing my analysis stoned. Anyways I got a current work story. Today was a bad day at the office and big fucking storm coming! So I go for my Chia-seed-V8 cocktail fueled missile turd at the usual hour of 11 am. I wipe the small amount of feces clinging to my puckered starfish and an satisfied with my shit. I stand up and pull up my khakis and my day timer falls out of my left rear pocket before I flushed. There was minimal turd on it so I just out it back in my fucking pocket and the rest of the day really stunk. The ugly french chick inhabiting my office, damn you Mrs.Kroeger, looked uncomfortable and nauseous for the remainder of the afternoon. Her painful efforts to pretend that there was nothing remiss got me giggling.
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I think we need some pear. Ugly Duke Jewess (respect) porn with a Mad Men cameo.
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http://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1929652446
When my family eats at the dinner table, we all grunt like cavemen shoveling glop in our mouth as we barely chew before swallowing and if you reach for the bread/salt/ketchup/catsup and get too close to someone’s plate, you could end up with a fork in the back of your hand.
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No one will stop eating if this happens. I make a mean goulash
Recovering from my spineshank, sons. will try and post some shit tonight. And shit. Son.s
and pear.
@ Jacques:
I can’t get shit to post on this thread from my photobucket. Son. So here’s Pauly D with his estranged Baby Momma. Son.
It’s weird being buried here in the bowels of the site so as we can talk shit away from the home page and The Google rankings. And shit.
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I feel like the ugly broad you’re bangin and don’t want your friends to see you with so you Duke her in the stock room of the mini-mart you’re managing after hours.
Line of the year from The Rev.
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“Jimmy Fallon to Johnny Carson is as Keisha is to Joan Baez.”
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Although Keisha could give me the renoBs.
You sure about that, DW?
Kesha, that’s it. She has a body that reminds me my refrigerator has seen better days. All flat on the sides, pale, thick in the middle, no tits, and loose flaps.
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I’ma go get stoned in the blizzard now. Old dog’s so sick of winter she tries to kill herself everytime she gets out of the truck, but lands in the cold fluff of Death. Snows so deep the coyotes and coydogs round here ballet across the frozen crust, catching and ravaging the delicious cute venison as their sharp hooves cleave through winters crusty wasteland.
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The Scotsmen who carved a piece of civilization out of this frigid rocky terrain were skilled, tough, and Godaweful stupid,
Friday thoughts n’ Links coming up.
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Maybe on a Thursday.
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Because that’s how I roll.
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Son.
It’s so cold Dark Sock, I’m thinkin’ of buyin’ me a shrimpin’ boat and getting the fuck away from here. Son.
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Stoned. Captain Dans
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Fuck you Jimmy Fallon! I will never get that 45 seconds back you fucktwat.
The site suddenly feels dirtier, repugnant, and depraved.
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I couldn’t be happier.
D-Sock, just run the pic for the retard bit and I’ll paste the diatribe in the comments section.
Rev, I’d say goddamn this country, but that’s redundant.
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It’s so cold up here my face’s been frozen, like Mongor’s, since January.
DarkSock titillates us with the hope of sweet, round ass pear at 6:43 am then hits us with repugnant, imploded ass melon at 2:48 pm.
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That’s borderline abuse, son.
Jacques – This? Son?
Stockroom Dukers.
Skulltitz. She looks a lot better from behind.
Gold’s Gym-Cleft Palate Life Skills Team
Oh that’s Keisha. Nevermind.
Geez Rev, waddya got against no-talent twats who say they have eating disorders? Wait, nevermind.
That’s the one.
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Back in my youth I had the (un)fortunate opportunity to date a stripper, and a pretty cute one at that. The only two drawbacks were: bad teeth, and she had Asperger Syndrome. For those of you not familiar, Asperger is considered a high functioning form of autism. Basically of normal or above intelligence, but socially retarded. For instance this girl had no concept of empathy or how to read a social situation. She was incapable of reading subtle cues like when I was obviously sick of her talking about the bus ride home and I just wanted a frikin’ blow job. Hop on it woman, and wrap those brown snaggle-teeth around my gawdamn cawk!
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You think you had some weirdos on your bus ride? Try my daily sojourn to the CNC shop, bitch. I worked just up the street from a pallet manufacturer that was able to get tax exempt status by hiring nothing but retards – sorry, “mentally handicapped ” retards – and had to ride the same bus to work as them. Forty minutes to and from downtown everyday having to listen to a mess of gimpy bike helmet-wearing half-wits yell children’s songs out of key at the top of their lungs while spitting their Cheerio peanut butter breath all over the side of my neck. I swear if I ever hear anyone start belting out “The Wheels of the Bus Go ‘Round and ‘Round”, including my own kid, I will tear out their toenails with vise grips and staple their genitals to their gawdamn forehead.
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There was however this one young woman with Down’s Syndrome that I would lazily fantasize about on occasion. She had long blonde hair pulled back with a multicolored scrunchy into a bouncy pony tail, steel blue eyes that were only about a half inch apart, and the cutest little Cabbage Patch Doll face one could imagine. I surmised she could probably give the world’s most heavenly blow jobs because 1) like a puppy she’d do anything for however long it took just for your approval, 2) she was always drooling, which I figured would make for a nice and sloppy slurping, and 3) she was missing all her front teeth. The perfect pole wrangling machine, complete with a multicolored scrunchy handle for when the auto function breaks down.
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Meanwhile, Ed Hardy bikini sportin’ Shoshana displays her wares for Chinstrap Jason, who exudes a deep spiritualism born of his own brand of disingenuous Catholicism. Shoshana has not been keeping up with current events, and knows nothing of Netanyau’s weakened position as the centrist Yesh Atid Party picked up 19 seats in the parliamentary elections over the weekend. She’s just digging this new concealer that makes her nose look more “petite” like her Caucasian friend Sandy’s.
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No it doesn’t.
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Off in the distance, oohs and ahs can be heard as Smallman John demonstrates his invisible dicks sucking skills. You wanna see some funny sheit? Go to Google images and search “coughing”. It looks like a bunch of people giving blow jobs to invisible cocks.
That’s the one.
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Back in my youth I had the (un)fortunate opportunity to date a stripper, and a pretty cute one at that. The only two drawbacks were: bad teeth, and she had Asperger Syndrome. For those of you not familiar, Asperger is considered a high functioning form of autism. Basically of normal or above intelligence, but socially retarded. For instance this girl had no concept of empathy or how to read a social situation. She was incapable of reading subtle cues like when I was obviously sick of her talking about the bus ride home and I just wanted a frikin’ blow job. Hop on it woman, and wrap those brown snaggle-teeth around my gawdamn cawk!
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You think you had some weirdos on your bus ride? Try my daily sojourn to the CNC shop, bitch. I worked just up the street from a pallet manufacturer that was able to get tax exempt status by hiring nothing but retards – sorry, “mentally handicapped ” retards – and had to ride the same bus to work as them. Forty minutes to and from downtown everyday having to listen to a mess of gimpy bike helmet-wearing half-wits yell children’s songs out of key at the top of their lungs while spitting their Cheerio peanut butter breath all over the side of my neck. I swear if I ever hear anyone start belting out “The Wheels of the Bus Go ‘Round and ‘Round”, including my own kid, I will tear out their toenails with vise grips and staple their genitals to their gawdamn forehead.
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There was however this one young woman with Down’s Syndrome that I would lazily fantasize about on occasion. She had long blonde hair pulled back with a multicolored scrunchy into a bouncy pony tail, steel blue eyes that were only about a half inch apart, and the cutest little Cabbage Patch Doll face one could imagine. I surmised she could probably give the world’s most heavenly blow jobs because 1) like a puppy she’d do anything for however long it took just for your approval, 2) she was always drooling, which I figured would make for a nice and sloppy slurping, and 3) she was missing all her front teeth. The perfect pole wrangling machine, complete with a multicolored scrunchy handle for when the auto function breaks down.
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Meanwhile, Ed Hardy bikini sportin’ Shoshana displays her wares for Chinstrap Jason, who exudes a deep spiritualism born of his own brand of disingenuous Catholicism. Shoshana has not been keeping up with current events, and knows nothing of Netanyau’s weakened position as the centrist Yesh Atid Party picked up 19 seats in the parliamentary elections over the weekend. She’s just digging this new concealer that makes her nose look more “petite” like her Caucasian friend Sandy’s.
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No it doesn’t.
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Off in the distance, oohs and ahs can be heard as Smallman John demonstrates his invisible dicks sucking skills. You wanna see some funny sheit? Go to Google images and search “coughing”. It looks like a bunch of people giving blow jobs to invisible cocks.
Jacques’ story pisse me off.
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I’ve been hiring retards for twenty-five years and this is the first I’ve heard about that tax exempt shit.
Jacques’ story pisse me off.
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I’ve been hiring retards for twenty-five years and this is the first I’ve heard about that tax exempt shit.
I wonder if DB1 can put together a book deal that includes the entire catalog of Samurai Scrote comments, DW’s historical showbiz musings, and JD’s undersexed life stories bound together with a healthy smattering of DSock’s favorite band names and boat rides?
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I’ve said it before, but I’d buy a compilation of “the best of” series of comments from this site, or even from the SScrote posting alone.
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speaking of extra chromosomes, I wouldn’t mind leaving a few extra on Shoshana’s left milk sac there
speaking of extra chromosomes, I wouldn’t mind leaving a few extra on Shoshana’s left milk sac there
That’s a beautiful story Jacques.
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In freshman year I was banging a few chicks and had a girlfriend but this chick in the girls dorm had a little thing for me since we puked on jello shots etc. during Frosh Week (respect). So one night walking back from the main pub I run into her cause she’s walking kind of slow with the gimp and all. So I walked her across campus and finger-banged her as she pulled on my giant love tube.
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I fucked her a few times over the next week in hidden glade on campus. So she tells me she loves me and I spent the next six years hiding and running from the beautiful blonde with the mild dystrophy. Her ass shook as soon as she was aroused and wiggled like a Teletubbie. Never banged another retard again, except for the palsy twins when I was working in a nursing home a few years earlier. Ain’t nobody got time for that. What if the guys had found out.
Jacques and The Rev’s Tales of Tart Twat got me thinkin about whether or not there are laws against fucking retards if you’re not a retard. Is it just a badge of dishonor, grounds for ostracism or a fuckin prison stint for banging a tart?
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If their mental age is 12 but their 20 what does that mean?
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That being said, if you fuck a blonde with Down’s Sydrome, that’s some fuckin thing.
Jacques and The Rev’s Tales of Tart Twat got me thinkin about whether or not there are laws against fucking retards if you’re not a retard. Is it just a badge of dishonor, grounds for ostracism or a fuckin prison stint for banging a tart?
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If their mental age is 12 but their 20 what does that mean?
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That being said, if you fuck a blonde with Down’s Sydrome, that’s some fuckin thing.
Meanwhile – New Friday Thoughts and Links. And by that, I mean Pear. Sons.
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/2005/01/04/friday-thoughts-n-links/
Meanwhile – New Friday Thoughts and Links. And by that, I mean Pear. Sons.
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/2005/01/04/friday-thoughts-n-links/