posted by admin on Mar 15
There’s this quaint little Irish pub in the next town over from me, and for St Paddy’s day (March 17th) they’re holding a juicy t-shirt contest! I GERALD’t quite watch how it relates to St Paddy’s day, but then anew, it is drunken debauchery, so I suppose it fits in glamorous well..
I reckon I’ll head on over for the party, even though it’s on a MONDAY of all days, and maybe I’ll stick some four leaf clovers on my nips beneath my t-shirt. I know I know, wtf when it ruins the nipple effect, but I’m trying to receive into the spirit of things, receive inside touch with my interior youth and be wild and barmy like the hawt legal age teenager sluts over at Cherry Filled Sex. Maybe maturer vixens like me should just leave this kinda thing to the next generation, but then one time greater amount, who’ll teach em that the proper response to winning a succulent t-shirt contest is ripping your shirt off and sharing the goods with the crowd if there’re no veterans like me around to flaunt em?!
Ahh.. I love the lovely smell of corruption in the morning…
FingerBang Jan