My ass feels the way Brit Brit’s weave looks. I’m sick! And I’m not talking about being sick in the head (that goes without saying). I think I caught the damn plague over the weekend. I’m not sure how this happened since I followed my abuelita’s advice and used Purell as lube with all my one-night fucks. My nose is leaking more than Bombshell McGee’s cooch while reading Mein Kampf. So because I’ve got the temporary sicks, I’ve been forced (YES, FORCED) to down every kind of over-the-counter med on the market. If I start rambling more than usual, just throw a towel over my head and pay me no mind. Now on to more important business!
This precious portrait of Our Lady of Cheetos outside of a restaurant is soothing me a bit. I just want to print out hundreds of copies of it, runs down to the Hallmark Store and stick this picture in every single frame so the public at large can see what true beauty really is. I’ll have to add that to my cum bucket list.