though it does not bother me.
Poor attire taste bothers me more.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2014, 20:14, Reply)
you are unable to move, as a small yellow minion has tied you down.
Your face starts to be slapped by the hair on a butt cheek.
YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH.
You slowly enter the butt mangle.
Eventually you are reverse-pooped into a bum hole.
You die, Bond, you die.
What is the sound of one butt cheek clapping?
You awake, as if from a dream. M thinks you are dead. You join an inconspicuous drinking game with a crowd of hundreds.
A TV catches your eye.
"BREAKING NEWS: Twerrorists Twerk Vauxhall"
You look into a mirror.
(, Thu 16 Oct 2014, 20:36, Reply)
inventory
go north
go east
give tenner to bouncer
go in
talk to dj
slap dj hard
drop record
drop needle
insert power crystal into buttcheeks
twerk
(, Thu 16 Oct 2014, 21:02, Reply)
But worst of all is lackadaisical attitude and commitment toward hair color.
But these things, dress, sofa taste, hair color commitment, can be managed. That is what six-figure income fixes automatically. Or should So get to twerking.
One time at Brekenridge I said to my dad, is it just me imagining, or is it the ski-clothing, or is everyone who skis gorgeous? It seems always an inordinate percentage of gorgeous people on the slopes. Dad answered that it is self-selecting, everyone has money, sufficient to have their teeth fixed, their hair dressed and cut properly, clothing chosen carefully, good grooming habits, relatively good taste generally. I go, "oh."
(, Thu 16 Oct 2014, 20:59, Reply)
Hmm
(, Fri 17 Oct 2014, 9:35, Reply)