Luckily,
I had
dressed
for the occasion
with a zebra-print top,
tight black jeans
with zippers,
and golden
snakeskin
pointy-toed
heels.
I fit in perfectly.
I SAY:
The one with the mole on her face made Right Guard turn left.
I'd rather eat ass.
You serve super cheap shit ( ( ( *CRICKETS* ) ) )
The sailor is a man and he takes care of you.
He proposes you models and give you his advice.
Good to have the advice of a man.
Some of their
button-down shirts
burn my nipples
at the clubs
when I'm
not
wearing
a wife beater
underneath.
