Look, it’s a compulsion, the truth comes spilling out and I lose all sense of composure, it’s like taking a few shots of Kamikazes.
There are plenty of assholes around this time of year. You can find them anywhere, but they mainly hang around malls and shopping centers…
It supposedly builds character when someone has overtaken you physically and mentally, making you feel like a powerless piece of shit…
I don’t wanna break the glass and slice open my finger. I need that finger to gesture to the people on the freeway.
Jackson Galaxy is the fuckin’ weird cat lady, not me.
Can you imagine how old these tampons were? They’d probably disintegrate as soon as you inserted them into your love tunnel, leaving you holding just the cardboard applicator…
But I have to say, the clothing isn’t the only thing I have a fascination with, it’s the models walking the runway. Have you seen them? Jesus Christ get these people a sandwich.
Anyway I have mixed feelings about these places; on the one hand, you can’t beat the price, it’s the cheapest thrill in town (it’s the only thrill in town), but on the other hand, you have to tolerate the slightly annoying language barrier.
I used the word park so many times in that paragraph, it defies proper grammar, and if people in this town knew about it, it’d probably make their panties wet… that’s how desperate they are for some excitement!
Once I entered my fifties, that’s it I guess, I’m no longer desirable. Put me out to pasture, I’m a fucking old cow.