Hey guys, what's up? I'm hoping that you guys aren't feeling like I am. Lately I have been so unmotivated. I need to coach and prod myself to perform everyday task. It's not a good place. Maybe it has something to do with my ass being broke as hell. I'm talking broken to pieces. I'm talking ALL of the kings horses, and ALL of the king's men couldn't put me back together again. I'm talking broken like a faggot's wrist. I'm talking broke like Jennifer Anniston's heart when she heard of the Angelina news. I'm talking broke like a prostitutes back. I'm mean broke, broke, broke. Did you guys get that I was broke? Good... Anyways, because I'm in a financial cul-de-sac (things will turn around soon), my ass has been staying in the house, far away from conjures. It's so hard to not be tempted by shopping, because I dwell in the belly of the beast. I have to stand there for 8 hours a day.
Anyways, after working all weekend on Sunday sister Nik texted to see if I wanted to see 'The Hangover'. I had gotten so many text messages the day before saying how funny it was. I was intrigued. The family went to see the 7:45 showing at Tysons.. The movie was packed.
I laughed the whole damn time. It was the funniest movie I had seen in a while. It was so random, but still made sense. Besides, any movie that can work a Mike Tyson cameo into the plot has to be a winner. After the movie, I came home and passed out. That's my weekend, are you jealous?
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It seems that Reggie Bush isn't the only cutie who plays for the New Orleans Saints. Ladies and Ladies (you trade sit out for this one), Marques Colston. This 6' 4", 225 pound bag of trade beatness is the business.
Jigga what?
With those arms and that smile, he can't lose. I mean, he's no Reggie, but he will definitely do. He's the perfect pick for boyfriend #2.
With him and Reggie in the same shower, that is one bar of soap that I would never keep in my hand.
Call me boy!
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Train Wrecks!
This nasty fucker kept scratching his nasty ass head. I wish I could zoom in even closer so that you could see the fucking snowstorm that fell on his shoulder every time he scratched. You would think that with the little bit of hair that he did have left, he wouldn't have that bad dandruff. As soon as I snapped this pic, I moved as far away from him as possible. I couldn't see his dead skin cells being anywhere near me. I said Head and Shoulders!
This trade was on my train the other day, and I just couldn't help but stare at his junk. On top of him adjusting it every 5 seconds, he had an arrow (his necktie) pointing right to it. I'm sure he knew I was looking, I damn near stared a hole right through his nuts. The rest of him was slightly beat as well. I don't need that kind of stimulation that early in the morning. Jesus keep me near the cross...
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Just in! These new Dior booties are so beat, I live! I can't wait to see a cunt in them. I swear I'm gonna run up to her screaming, and jump on her back all the while screaming, "SERVE"! With a hot distressed skinny jean, and a wife baeter--How could you lose?
