The other day I was sittin’ in the salon, getting my purple fabulosity put in. I was flipping through a Maxim men’s magazine. Very interesting and funny stuff in there, and as expected, lots of girls.
There was 1 section on a lame-o smelly pirate hooker named Aryanni. She’s a stupid UFC Octagon girl. I would so smack her teeth on the octagon. Anywho, I turned the pages to see her stats (she might as well be 13, like *negative* 5 foot, 4 pounds, ridiculous business) and low and behold that huzzy had the *gumption* to be frolicking in the flippin’ grass, in just a pair of panties by Honeydew.
How, you ask, did I know the designer of the fab little panties? Because. I own them. I may have looked like Ary-puky-anni in the 5th grade, but alas…not now.
I’m dieting now…on Dr. Pepper and lemonheads.
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