Now, what Im about to say is my observation so take it with a pinch of pepper flakes if you wish (OR if youre anything like me, youll use the entire bottle, so my advice to you would be shake away, cautiously). Everything you buy, has an expiration date. When males, typically ranging from 22-forever come to the realization they have someone in their life that has seen the good times with the bad, the best gift theyll ever recieve/are still confused as to how they got so lucky to have held that persons attention for as long as they did, POOF like an old pair of Ferragmos, we chuck them because theyre expired. Not even a baiiiiiiiiiiiii, cya later alligator its been real, just ex-pir-ed. Heres a little science experiment for you to try; if you were to put mehhh, lets say seven ham/egg/cheese and bacon crossiants in front of the scumbags face, hell probably have a few, still not saying a word > I call them mooches. (I could go on and on because Im having way too much fun getting into detials but Im going to get directly to my point). One night, the mooch decides to hop on their magical carpet and fly above the clouds only to never be seen again (or so you think)... You thought wrong... and not only do you see him still breathing, hes mowing on a ham crossiant. You may think youre Aladin, but you cant fool Houdini! The POINT to this fairytale is that males, boys, monsters, what ever they are in that very moment, always always ALWAYS fall back on something not as special, they rather wake up to the 0.5 so they can rest assure what they are sleeping with isnt going far.You tell me, what other idiot is going to pick out of the same dumpster you did?!? no oneee. The name for this diagnosis is NorCal Syndrom, if you want to see men, flock east.
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 04:09:42 +0000
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