Smooth as Anything
Master Don Juan
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2002
- Messages
- 1,230
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Spoiling is an excuse a poor person makes for not being able to afford the things they desire. “Oh, I didn’t have cable TV growing up. It’s cool though, I wasn’t spoiled.”
What the ****?
I must be tuning into some strange hick frequencies, because in the small desolate word I live in, people don’t get spoiled unless you leave them out in the sun without any water for a week. At that point, perhaps spoiled is an inadequate word.
Let’s give all our attention to the chick with the biggest breasts… Excellent idea! The bump in her shirt makes up for her lack of intelligence, yeah! Brilliant!
6 billion people in the world. Let’s say 3 billion of them are female. That’s 6 billion pairs of breasts, gentlemen. Wow, I just got a tremendous craving for milk.
The high school I attend has somewhere along the lines of 2000 students enrolled. That’s 2000 underage breasts. Now, granted, 1800 of those breasts are on overweight girls with braces, but nevertheless – they lactate.
Pretty simple point: they aren’t special and they don’t deserve your attention. If you’re as impatient as me, that can be difficult to grasp. I turn every corner looking for a nice pair, but alas – one in a hundred. Maybe it’s my standards, but I really don’t think so. I just think everyone has stopped giving a **** about how they look because it’s been beaten into them that they are incapable of looking attractive.
Hey, I don’t disagree!
Try and look decent though, ok? You fat chicks with the tank tops and the mini-skirts… you know who you are. You chicks who shop at Wal-mart for clothing and think it’s fashionable, you know who you are. Hey, no offense, but cover-up. You’re not good looking no matter how much Christina Aguilera tells you otherwise.
One of these days I’m going to be chilling in the food-court, and another fat chick is going to bend-over. God help me if I don’t take my plastic fork and gouge out my eyes with it.
Ok, that was a lie. I would never eat the food court’s ****ty food. Burger King’s greasy heart-attack wrapped in grease-soaked paper, or the Flaming Wok’s cat-disguised-as-beef? Mind boggling, to say the least. Meow.
So, to sum it up, you’re fat, ugly, annoying, and obnoxious and you need to learn when to shut the **** up. Keep hassling me.
What the ****?
I must be tuning into some strange hick frequencies, because in the small desolate word I live in, people don’t get spoiled unless you leave them out in the sun without any water for a week. At that point, perhaps spoiled is an inadequate word.
Let’s give all our attention to the chick with the biggest breasts… Excellent idea! The bump in her shirt makes up for her lack of intelligence, yeah! Brilliant!
6 billion people in the world. Let’s say 3 billion of them are female. That’s 6 billion pairs of breasts, gentlemen. Wow, I just got a tremendous craving for milk.
The high school I attend has somewhere along the lines of 2000 students enrolled. That’s 2000 underage breasts. Now, granted, 1800 of those breasts are on overweight girls with braces, but nevertheless – they lactate.
Pretty simple point: they aren’t special and they don’t deserve your attention. If you’re as impatient as me, that can be difficult to grasp. I turn every corner looking for a nice pair, but alas – one in a hundred. Maybe it’s my standards, but I really don’t think so. I just think everyone has stopped giving a **** about how they look because it’s been beaten into them that they are incapable of looking attractive.
Hey, I don’t disagree!
Try and look decent though, ok? You fat chicks with the tank tops and the mini-skirts… you know who you are. You chicks who shop at Wal-mart for clothing and think it’s fashionable, you know who you are. Hey, no offense, but cover-up. You’re not good looking no matter how much Christina Aguilera tells you otherwise.
One of these days I’m going to be chilling in the food-court, and another fat chick is going to bend-over. God help me if I don’t take my plastic fork and gouge out my eyes with it.
Ok, that was a lie. I would never eat the food court’s ****ty food. Burger King’s greasy heart-attack wrapped in grease-soaked paper, or the Flaming Wok’s cat-disguised-as-beef? Mind boggling, to say the least. Meow.
So, to sum it up, you’re fat, ugly, annoying, and obnoxious and you need to learn when to shut the **** up. Keep hassling me.
