popped collar(s)
Your name is DIRK STRIDER, and you are FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. When a more opportune moment arises, you'll DESCRIBE YOURSELF AT GREATER LENGTH; but who honestly expects a blurb to do you justice??
No one, is who.
Your name is DIRK STRIDER, and you are FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. When a more opportune moment arises, you'll DESCRIBE YOURSELF AT GREATER LENGTH; but who honestly expects a blurb to do you justice??
No one, is who.
When it comes to dicks, Jake’s is a triumph. It stands tall and gallant, a throbbing testament to the vigor of island dorks everywhere. Any place on him where the sun will not shine is a place I’d like to visit.
I am not speaking from experience.
Good to know that more than a handful of people are chomping at the bit to subject themselves to my sporadically prophetic blogging wiles.
Feel free to get up in my shit about anything, any time.
(Two puppet dongs and a wink.)
The Consolation of Philosophy.
Having fun isn’t hard when you’ve got a library card, blah blah PBS, fade to black, roll credits and thank you for your sponsorship.
Alternatively, a nice plush rump.
Preferably one with a lot of yield and good seamsmanship.
It feels pretty bitchin’ to answer automated questions, let me tell you.
