Thursday, February 6, 2014
Greasey Jesus Hits on Hot Aunt Lonnie
The truly transcendent douchestain is the one that features Jesus bling in both tattoo and necklace format.
Hot Aunt Lonnie giggles politely, even as a primal instinct for flight tremblars through her synapses.
Run Hot Aunt Lonnie! Run like gazelle from stenchy tiger!
Combining christian singles mingle night, with a charity clothing bazaar – FTW!
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And by win, I mean greasy jesus should take this opportunity to buy hisself a shirt. That would be an act of charity.
The extreme slope of his neo-Neanderthal brow results in the horizontal-ization of the Mark of the Bag.
@ Doc B,
Good call on young Neymar from previous post.
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Hot Aunt Lonnie aims to please at this stage of the game of life.
I don’t care how good this fucking tool can play bass, put a shirt on disgusto-boy
Hot Aunt Lonnie is the aunt you see in a bikini at the family reunion and then feel guilty later on when you’r thinking about her whilst beating off in the shower. She lives in another state and you rarely see her, though, so you can pass it off as not really being family.
Greasus looks like one of the demons from Charmed.
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Aunt Lonnie needs a nice hot bath.
Hot Aunt Lonnie loves the Finger Bang, but only after a few Peach Cosmos and the promise of analingus.
Hot a Aunt Lonnie loves to be sweet talked, if the sweet talk involves rough anal and candle wax on her clit.
Hot Aunt Lonnie loves to do laundry, especially the part where she rides the front loader washer during the spin cycle because her husband Clete can only get it up if he’s being strangled with white cotton panties with a skid mark.
Hot Aunt Lonnie was once called Lonnie the Box.
Hot Aunt Lonnie is always up for the threesome if it involves four Portuguese day laborers, a kumquat, a pint of Jack, two Milky Ways and a photo of Regis Philbin.
Douchey Wallnuts is right about celebrating the enormous Sipp Renob he had this morning.
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Good morning from Sochi friends. No shirts required here and the gin is as cheap as water. The people in this picture are the hosts at my hostel here in Sochi. I just sent it to DB1 after I was raped at the security checkoint. The Chernobly Hilton is modest. Short on floors and windows, but fucking great on hospitality. The USSR corned beef buffet is awesome if you like salty green cold war meat and powdered egg-like substance. Dmityr and Sofia from the Ukraine just got the job yesterday and they are splendid hosts. The flight here on Aeroflot was great. There’s so many holes in the plane even Bieber’s posse got away with smoking in the bathroom for ten.
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I’m going with the Mrs. to see Shawn White go all chicken on the half-pipe. We got a TV in our room but it only plays one movie.
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Dear Rev
Is it so that since the Sochis and rest of the Ruskies are against the gays that they are shooting the male figure skaters as they leave the ice?
Also, I gave a dame a Throw Triple Lutz and an entrance into a Back Entrance Death Spiral and avoided prosecution once in Macon Georgia.
Another thing that I learned is that these Russian figure skater broads look good from a ways a way, but up close they ain’t no bargain and they smell like vodka and abortions.
Colonel Angus
http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=a7a_1349546320&comments=1
Almost hate to say it, but this is TRUTH week, so yah — I’d fuck her til my dick falls off.