Nothing smarts more than a swanky shirt with too much creosote run around the bleached to porn-star pink rim rammed down your Debby does dead people in a vain attempt to win over a friends bored of playing this game with questioning sexuality if you've ever had it now does it even warrant an answer to the rhetorical virgins dance around the maypolecat. Vaguer than the Crypt Ticks gonads in the fog of the mind poisoned by one Mary "the immaculate bucket of that fictional bearded hope for a few billion take the pissers man" Jane. I love all you no hopers and sometimes those hope popes are pretty dope too.
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