If you’re in the mood for some useless, rich breasts that are dressed like a disco ball, becaue when you’re useless and rich, your entire life is a fuckin’ party, and you like advertising that to the fucking world, while busting out of her dress. Then here you go.
I went to a stripclub this past weekend, because I was in the mood to see some useless, poor, struggling breasts that were dressed like they belong on the shelf in a ghetto sex shop, it wasn’t much of a party, because the fucking whores kept filing through to the creepy rapist motherfucker drinking perrier, who hadn’t showerd in a while, but clearly masturbated a lot, I could tell by his haircut.
So being rejected to the goodlookin’ guy, or the rich guy, or the friendly outgoing guy makes sense to me, and doesn’t fuck my self esteem, but when the strippers choose the rapist over you, you know it may be time to get out of those sweatpants…..