Rock that Shit Out
Rock that Shit Out
Greetings, your Honor. I was yesterday’s case #112. Am I crazy, or were you making sex eyes at me? Because I fucking dug it.
Jenny? Are you reading these things? I bet you are. God, you’re so pathetic. Fucking whore. You make me sick you know that? These things are for sickos and perverts.
<div style="clear:both;"></div><p class="MsoNormal">For the woman I saw at the Sixth Street Applebee’s last night stuffing her face with a heaping pile of extra beef nachos: Remember when I asked you if you needed a napkin and you just leaned over and used my t-shirt? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I canNOT stop thinking about you. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jerry 918-826-12--</p>
<div style="clear:both;"></div><p class="MsoNormal">To the woman I may or may not have groped at Margie’s Tap last night: Can’t you fight your own battles?<span style=""> </span>--Steve</p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S. Tell your “date” he’ll be hearing from my “lawyer.” Sound it out real slow for him. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<div style="clear:both;"></div><p class="MsoNormal">Okay, here’s what I’m envisioning: We start off with some rough foreplay (eye-gouging/asphyxiation/mutual bestiality [MB], etc…) and work our way up to the big stuff. I want you to make me feel like the dirtiest whore on the planet, so we’re going to need a pretty big bag of manure and a gallon or so of brine water.
m4w: I met you at this year's Rosemont White Power Rally. I was the fairly tall gentlemen with blond hair and blue eyes.<br />You were fairly tall---with blond hair and blue eyes.<br />Tim Johnson (205) 323-85--<br /><br /><br />Your eyes told me, "I want to fuck you," but your mouth said, "Go fuck yourself, Creep."<br />I say, "Can't we do both?"<br />Call me! Ken (925) 828-42--<br /><br />