Monday, April 23, 2007
Hacky Sackless
Look buddy, I’d tie strip steaks to my ballsack and go swimming in the pirhanna infested Araguari river just for the chance to clean hottie’s Payless shoes with a rag, but even I have my limits. Letting a cutie place beefy magazine cutouts over my chest and my shirt?
Too far.
I can’t tell which disturbs me more, an oily forehead with a bizarre tanline next to the hair, or a lime green trucker cap hanging from the ceiling.
Either way, this pic just feels creepy. I’m gonna go gargle with some listerine.
