
BigJimsWornOutTires
Emerald
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But it wasn’t on this occasion:
looksmax.org
That was a metaphor and an echo of Brian Laundrie’s paranoid thoughts.
During this incident, I was fighting wet wrinkles in my shirt, “Damn you, crevices!" I slammed the blue polo into the dryer. "Why this always happens to me? Why!”
A blonde in tight shorts and melon breasts stared at me. She had just come inside with a basket of filthy fabrics. I saw her and shook my head in shame. Then, I reacted, “I’m sorry you heard that.”
“It’s okay,” she said and walked over to me. “Do you need a friend?” She asked. She smiled and tucked a band of hair under her ear.
Three hours later, I'm fucking the shit out of her against the armrest on my sofa back at my apartment, which was across the street from the laundromat.
Moral of the story…. Ugh… many of you have no idea what you are talking about. Every time you think you figured women out, watch out! Their retribution and resistance are so brutal... you’ll always be alone. Don’t follow me, you do you.

Dirty Laundry
In 2015 I'd met a woman during The Laundry. She seemed unruly to my gaze flirts as she shown with rebukes. Perhaps it was my tousled hair, that cowlick bristling wrong assumptions as if I wasn't a clean man. Usually, I'm a dashing gent. Take outstanding care of my appearance in a meticulous...
That was a metaphor and an echo of Brian Laundrie’s paranoid thoughts.
During this incident, I was fighting wet wrinkles in my shirt, “Damn you, crevices!" I slammed the blue polo into the dryer. "Why this always happens to me? Why!”
A blonde in tight shorts and melon breasts stared at me. She had just come inside with a basket of filthy fabrics. I saw her and shook my head in shame. Then, I reacted, “I’m sorry you heard that.”
“It’s okay,” she said and walked over to me. “Do you need a friend?” She asked. She smiled and tucked a band of hair under her ear.
Three hours later, I'm fucking the shit out of her against the armrest on my sofa back at my apartment, which was across the street from the laundromat.
Moral of the story…. Ugh… many of you have no idea what you are talking about. Every time you think you figured women out, watch out! Their retribution and resistance are so brutal... you’ll always be alone. Don’t follow me, you do you.
