Tuesday, February 10, 2009
For The Wank
Here’s the thing, Stan from Tampa.
If you’re going to fight your suburban pasty-ass whiteness by getting a gangsta tatt, the least you could do is go the full nine and actually spell it out.
It’s like you’re willing to permanently etch words on your stomach, but too lazy to spell them out?
Not cool.
Now stop nervously putting your arms around Carol and Patrice, and step away from the Bud Light before I take away the keys to your Chevy Suburban.
