Monday, April 23, 2007
Toxic Bag
It’s hard to say exactly when hazmat suits became the go-to playah move for chin pubey wanks. This pudgey douche is either a DJ, a club promoter, or enriching plutonium.
I do love these three identically dressed gazelles, even if they’re in that awkward “I’m 19 years old and still dealing with last year’s growth spurt” phase. You know the type. They clump around in high heels crashing into things like they just learned how to walk.
But god damn if they aren’t three slices of tasty cheesecake. Lets hope the medical facility where DJ Toxic works uses ammonium bleach. We’re gonna need the hard stuff to scrub that scrote clean.
