Where my womb at?

O shit sorry, my b. I mean wombat. Yay, wombat. The indominable go getterness of these delightful little turds never ceases to totally stir my internet wood. Smell me?I don't know what his secret is but he alread managed to get her fucking jacket off and now he's working on the pants. Starting at the knee? Fuck it, dude. Whatever works. He's your basic sausage shaped bundle of "suck-me-off"-that-thing-is-cute.

I bet you can just grab him by the armpits and lift him up and he'll just stare at you like: "ok what now?" And you end up giving HIM a dumb look like: "I hadn't really thought that far ahead"
And then "ok, well, here we are then." And you put him down and offer him a drink but he's all: "naw" and it sounds so goddamn smooth coming out of his mouth.

I think this is turning into a Vice "Do" so I'm out.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Uhhhh awwww killed it, straight moidered it, this post is Elliot Ness.

4:48 PM

Blogger Doug said...

Scrolling down a page full of win, the description for this little turd sausage Cassanova flat out kicked me on my ass and sat on my face.

JALG, you fuckin' rule. This is Cute Overload, but written from MAH point of view. Keep kickin' it!

1:30 PM


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