You know, he's the guy who can snare the ladies. Some loser teaching other losers how to appropriately approach some tender-little-shaver in some hipster beer parlor. The night ending with you eventually staggering up the road with her, to your sparsely furnished stink-chamber of an apartment to give her the old "Brown Madam."
"Home sweet Hell," you'll say as you dead-bolt the door and accidentally hit your forehead on the door knob as you take off your Spalding's.
This is the guy that understands the ladies. This is the dick-head who can identify the needs and moods of all the ladies, and if you listen to his Abigail Van Buren-like sage wisdom you'll never hear the phrase, "You smell like poop," again.
This line will be spoken of course, by a visibly-uncomfortable-previously-laughing-just-a-minute-ago-girl-but-now-feeling-nauseated-and-frightened-and-wanting-to-immediately-leave-and-move-out-of-town-never-to-return-from-the-second-you-leered-at-her-cleavage-asking-if-her-shoes-were-pumps-or-thongs-while-doing-a-wiener-thrust-on-the-word-pumps-and-delivering-a-lecherous-wink-with-a-double-barreled-finger-wiggler-accompaniment-on-the-word-thongs.
The "Hook-up Artist's" shit is just so damn smooth.
He's probably known as "Dehli Belly" in some circles.
I say: Fuck This Guy.
"Home sweet Hell," you'll say as you dead-bolt the door and accidentally hit your forehead on the door knob as you take off your Spalding's.
This is the guy that understands the ladies. This is the dick-head who can identify the needs and moods of all the ladies, and if you listen to his Abigail Van Buren-like sage wisdom you'll never hear the phrase, "You smell like poop," again.
This line will be spoken of course, by a visibly-uncomfortable-previously-laughing-just-a-minute-ago-girl-but-now-feeling-nauseated-and-frightened-and-wanting-to-immediately-leave-and-move-out-of-town-never-to-return-from-the-second-you-leered-at-her-cleavage-asking-if-her-shoes-were-pumps-or-thongs-while-doing-a-wiener-thrust-on-the-word-pumps-and-delivering-a-lecherous-wink-with-a-double-barreled-finger-wiggler-accompaniment-on-the-word-thongs.
The "Hook-up Artist's" shit is just so damn smooth.
He's probably known as "Dehli Belly" in some circles.
I say: Fuck This Guy.
I would much rather kick him in the nuts...HARD...then leave him a parting gift of my balled-up panties shoved in his pie-hole....But that's just me.
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