Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Merry Christmas! Now Look At This Pic And Realize Life Is Worthless and Devoid of Meaning
There is no Santa.
Only Zuul.
And by Zuul, I mean melonic tatinicas.
Boobs.
Yankees suck.
There is no Santa.
Only Zuul.
And by Zuul, I mean melonic tatinicas.
Boobs.
Yankees suck.
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Hey look! It’s Jojo, the idiot circus boy with a pretty new pet!
I’d tinsel her tree.
I’d give her my yule log.
I’d fuck the shit outta her.
Her kitten can climb my tree and bat my ornaments.
I’d like to be Tannen her Baum.
She can jingle my colloidal silver bells.
It’s OK that she’s a regifter – just leave the douchebags at the gym to pump each other next time, eh, Alba hottie?
I’d nog on her egg
Wheezer! YOUDAMAN!!
I peed on a christmas tree once.
I think I caught an STD just looking at that picture. Thanks a lot DB1. Gotta love a chick that gets dollar bills tattooed on her nether regions.
.
Yep … nether regions.
Douche on the right should have a slap bracelet on his wrist to go along with his acid wash jeans and Gumby hairstyle.
I’d stuff her stocking.
I’d deck her halls with my boughs of two-ball throat cream.
I’d mistle her toe.
.
Wait…what?
I don’t know about youse guys, but I like some illicit Christmas incest. And by incest I mean the first cousin type where you put your plum sauce in her pudding.
.
The type that when your crust gets hard on your tip combined with the circumcision scars, that the first piss you have after goes sideways and splashes off the wall like Mr. Holland Opus- style when the chick wants him to run away with her and he thinks about his retard son, son.
.
I’d put a tree in her brown star.
I’d sneak a load of gifts down her chimney.
I’d leave a frothy serving of pole-milk in her cookie.
I’d ford her stream.
she looks delicious, but, I’m guessin her cooter is a cootie petrie dish
If you listen to this song while looking at a picture of S.J.P’s
horse face synchronistically, you have witnessed all of the universe and the eternality at the edge of the universe we see only as a hologram data pack. And don’t worry about shit so much man. I’m talking to you.
.
Stooooooooooooooned Christmas Canadian Whiskey and wonky beer style in the CA’Schnizzzle yo’ Bufffalo crips in the house respect. Rev Chad out. And by out I mean, Son.
Oops. But seriously.
.
I guess she gets a pass on wearing unearned dog tags. Or any other damn thing she wants.
I recognize this chick. That can only mean one of two things… she’s a porn star or she works at the ramen shop where I eat lunch.
So that’s why there’s two.
.
Sad.
Delicious indeed she is, but why are wew rehashing old photos, DB1?
I’m sure daddy is really proud of her right now….