I was christened Wannahockaloogy by our tribal leader. He was a bitter old man with throat cancer who believed that, to truly hock a loogie, one must not retrieve the phlegm from the throat, but from the soul. His weakened, delirious state made it easy for me to overthrow him and seize control. Now, I am the chief and I have internet access. Beware, delirious smoking populace. Beware.
6 comments:
How sweet.
do they have any boy lambs?
Dude, I sell these at my store.
what's the return policy?
I check for fluids. Wouldn't it be cool if I did - I could get one of those UV lights that shows semen on cop shows? Awh, I want one.
I've got a blow up black man that comes with a ladder to help you climb on...
I love my big bubba!
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