Monday, January 28, 2013
Gynochin Slurps at the Teat of Nihilism
Vegas Dreamland of blurry illusion.
The fraudulence of fake-joy.
The reality of taint.
There. Is. No. Hope.
Sexy Paid-to-Do-Things Wynona offers quality boobie suckle that nonetheless cannot peak through the bleak abyss cast by the crisis of Gynochin’s essence.
All is lost.
Puppies get slapped.
Crocodile tears turn to rivers of existential rain among even the most jaded of realists facing a Gyno-future-chin.
EDIT: Whoops, prematurely published this on Saturday. It is, however, a Monday morning post to welcome y’all back.
First!?
.
Oy.
Paid-to-do-things? Yeah, that’s likely true.
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I’d call her a tranny hooker, but only to get Gynochin’s alpaca.
Sweetie, wipe the Silk™ personal lubricant off of your hands before you handle your iPhone™ for mirror pics.
Hef, ya got nuthin to worry about
The real question is which of these oxygen thieves thought that this moment needed to be captured for posterity?
In this case, Gyno is correct; it is better to rent that to own.
I like turtles. And tittles. Prolly preferring tittles to turtles.
I like mini-Hef. No, wait I don’t. Changed my mind completely. He needs to be left on the side of the road somewhere really far from anything good, like Compton or Mojave.
Is that a smoking overcoat or a robe? I’m not getting a tranny vibe from bleeth. Although she is “pay-to-play” material. If she is a tranny, I’d have to reevaluate my position on them…
Btw, “The Teat of Nihilsim” is the name of my planned after hours club.
…..and Glinda the Good Witch descends from above to drop a house on Ginochin and bitch-slap munchkins.
@ DW:
I already have a nightclub called “The Fiery Nipple of Mother Anger”.
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“Teat of Nihilism” is too close. Crease and desist or I’ll send my Nihilist hit squad.
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Nihilsim is so exhausting anyway.
I think most of us get “paid-to-do-things”, just not the same sorts of things that peroxide princess here gets paid to do. Right now someone is paying me to surf 2007 era blogs on the internet.
Since it is the in thing to do, I am going to open a nightclub. It will feature old metal bands and be called “Flammable Acoustic Tiles” Too soon?
IT’S NEVER TOO SOON!!!
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Except, of course, The Holocaust.
I have learned nothing seems very important after you have been locked up in a Cambodian prison. Nothing except perhaps how to eat around the cat-sized cockroaches in your food. And the fact that your junk looks like a boiled lobster carrying two eggplants after a dozen whacks to your exposed groin. Tons of Chinese and Vietnamese here now and even a few Ruskies. This place is about 6 months from going full on Castro. That’s OK… you all keep worrying about how many awards Downtown Abby can win. I’m sure I’ll be just fine once the swelling goes down.
http://www.hollywoodtuna.com/?page_id=65069&id=sophie_turner_beach_australia_2&title=Sophie%20Turner&loc=3
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oofa!
Lo, the season of death is breaking. An Indian elder I know from the great Mohawk tribe of the Iroqouis Nation told me that Spirit spoke to him and spring is coming. With thoughts of rebirth and sun I am lead to thing of being out of doors again in my thong cutting the grass. When I’m done with the grass I go in the pool. When my joint hits the cool water my testicles shrivel to a kegel like tightness. And I think of that summer long ago that I saw a teen goddess who kind of looks like Tami the whore.
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http://www.metacafe.com/watch/3168619/phoebe_cates_nude_scene_fast_time_at_ridgemont_high/
Is “slurping” OK at your new club, DW?
What the hell, DW. Either her mons starts just below her ribcage, or she has an illegal lobster trap where her flapjack stack ought to be.
Now who’s concerned about what hotel they may be staying at,and laying their eggs? Fucking douche aliens.