Enjoy your stadium tours and 25 dollar tshirts.
I feel a twisted sense of accomplishment/filthiness, like right after you fuck a puma.
I mean, what could be more beautiful than a smooth, hairless nutsack encrusted in jewels? Nothing, that’s what. Take that, peaceful sleeping baby, the Grand Canyon, aurora borealis, uh…Ashley Simpson’s new nose and the In n Out double-double. There’s a new most beautiful thing on the earth: the dongazzled junk of some random dude.
Here’s the thing though: smoking IS cool. It’s reckless and it looks rad and it really shows the world that you don’t even give a fuck enough to not walk around smelling like shit. Unforch, it’s also really wack. And it makes you die, so there’s that.
This one’s for you, Boner (You can’t see it, but I’m popping a single-boner salute right now. Hold it….Hold it…and done.)
You should never be dismissive of something because it’s not cool.
If you’re good looking and want to bone and this guy is single and you get along and you live on opposite sides of the country, he’ll bone you. That’s a fucking promise.
I never thought of Germans as stern or mean or heartless and calculating before, but now that you mention it, I can see where someone would maybe get that impression.
There were lots of fun ways to while away the hours that really came into their own in this last year of the aughts, but none so succinctly embodied the feeling of 2009 like scrapbooking the disembodied vaginas that you remove from the hookers you kill.
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