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Hmmmm...any girl that will readily accept washable nontoxic crayola markers in her rectum is perfect for a weekend romp in Las Vegas.
The innocence in the face and the droopy perk of her boobs does it for me.
That's the kind of girl who could possibly survive me, livid on PCP, rampaging about a prestigous hotel suite, desperately seeking to brutally penetrate every last orifice in her body with a phone handset.
I don't think the head dress or the face paint would phase her either...I could get her all whacked on pain meds and tranquilizers, and then go to work on her.
Later that evening we could wash up...go to a club, have a few drinks and mingle with some webmasters, all the while they'd think, "wow...hoax has a sweet little number on his arm, she's quiet too".
Never knowing of the drug fueled, primordial, ritualistic sodomy that I'm subjecting her to each and every evening.
Or we could just meet for drinks, and maybe I could buy her dinner.
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