There was this girl at the Room Green that was way too hot. She was a dancing machine. I was looking at her and it made me feel that everything was alright in the world. Perfect curves, perfect moves. I bet you her vaje smelled and tasted like strawberries. I was only too happy to add the cream.
So I gathered my liquid courage and went to her,
"Are you made of butter? 'Cause you're like perfect."
This was her reaction : "No." She then quickly moved away.
I drank away the carcasse of my crushed feelings.
2 comments:
what about you? are you made of fabric softner? cause you're just so smooth!
Did you ever stop to think that maybe girls don't like being compared to churned fat?
doofus.
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