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Originally Posted by amerikangod
Klori-DOH! You like Naruto, except always in Sexy Jutsu, perpetual 'mo, cloud of smoke around your titties and your crotch fro, being so pretty makes you feel your dick like Fred Savage in 'Go,' you got more gay men around you than Margaret Cho. When you was a kid and you saw Donatello's bo you was all 'OHAYO!" with your tiny chiny chubby like one of them people that eats salmon roe. Not hung like Scott Baio.
Or Tony Danza. The Italian Stallion? More like the limp-dicked Jimmy Fallon, guzzlin' cum by the gallon, locker rooms, prison showers, and the latrines, you dilly dallyin', it's your halcyon, your heaven. Well from here on out it's Matthew Shepherd, 24/7. Devin and Kevin, you poundin' into their twin towers like it was 9/11. You be screamin' like Brad Pitt in 'Se7en,' "What's in the booooox?!!!" A dick in the box, nah, THAT'S your heaven.
More on 'Se7en,' you Morgan Freeman, in that you want more organ for free from men, you want to lay men, you a laymen, you're like a pool everybody already pee'd in, you past fisting you let them put their feet in. I heard you even reverse birthed, let them put a fetus in, you're cretinous, you're a deceitful mess, you use anal plugs for pawns when you're playing chess, you queen yourself, you a fudge-lovin' lowlife like a Keebler elf, you bottom shelf.
You're like a buddy cop film, two men back to back, or Battlestar Gallactica gettin' an Edward James Olmos face-frack, a little smack smack, then it's like the physical challenge, you got a face full of gack, all "O Romeo" with sack. "You run track?" Is how you pick up joggers at the piers, nibble on their ears, you like your men black, and with lots of head like your beers. You kneel before their obsidian monoliths, thinking you'll evolve like in '2001,' but nah you just got a bone in your hand, and perhaps one between your buns. "This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for homo-erotic fantasy, this is for fun." Your cock-love burning brighter than the heat of a thousand suns.
Oh Kloriel, oh Kloriel, oh Klori-el, do tell, I see you reading 'Elle,' hair full of gel, fingertips got bunghole smell, always on blatino.com on your Dell, thinking of Clay Aiken in a in a cowardly lion suit and throwing another penny down the wishing well. Furfags can yiff in hell.
Hell. H-E- double hockey sticks. That rhymes with dicks, etc., etc.
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