Sometimes I think about the amount of guttural toxic waste this man has used his dipstick to measure without protective gear. There's no way he's still alive.
Looks like Sparky splurged all of his bat mitzvah nickles on the supreme package. She's built, looks like she enjoys it and judging by his lack of gagging, there's no aroma of yesterday's Newports anywhere to be seen. The glass ceiling is broken.
Seems like a nice girl. The type that'd throw herself off a building if you missed a text, or cheat on you if your Instagram post got zero likes. But her enthusiasm? I've seen happier faces cleaning the handicap toilets at Renaissance Fairs. Pass.
