chris-littlechild - August 30, 2012
We've all beheld, aghast and agog, that simpleton poseur on television (or in actual real life), cavorting merrily with a voluptuous vixen trailing from each limb (including the third leg, although there is that caveat that this could well be a copious quantity of toilet paper, surreptitiously ensconced in the crotch area), like errant hideous sleeve-mittens with fantastic boobs. Oftentimes, this person will go by the moniker Justin Bieber, or similar vacuous ballache. Conversely, there are those of us mere mortal meat-bags that are rebuffed ad nauseam by that buxom overweight woman from the deli, with the pinkeye, leprous facial lesions and humongous ginger beard (we'll concede that she was smoking a cigar, was named Michael and... had a ring through her foreskin, but we defy you to locate a more magnificent cleavage!). In summation, some of our lots are a trifle imbalanced.
To redress this egregious wrong, heed the wise counsel of the Casanovas, ladykillers, schmoozers and sleazers of video games. Emulate their romantic endeavors, and when you're victoriously betrothed to the woman from the Philippines that you ordered on them thar interwebs, you can propel your unerring gratitude (and cash) to Egotastic for molding you into a stud-tacular extraordinaire. Hit the gallery for scarce guidance, but a veritable smorgasbord of piss-taking irreverence.
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