Tuesday, February 17, 2015
I would like to formally file a complaint regarding the temperature outside of my home. The fucking temperature, appropriate for lets say penguins in Antarctica or Bjork in Iceland, is facilitating my unknown ability to become a reclusive bear who hibernates in the winter and avoids all social contact. With that said, I have more leisure to dust my blinds, Clorox the bathtub and survey a gay magazine. This biannual magazine is called GAYLETTER and my curiosity is nostalgic to my curiosity for cock back when I was seventeen.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
You can definitely put me in the category of a person who innately enjoys peacocking his gams come summertime. I am aware of my chicken legs and I flaunt them like I would flaunt my unborn children. The lower the seam, the better, but keep it tasteful. We don't want testicles having their own parade on the streets.
Leave it to Acne Studios to make corduroy nouveau again.