You're all that and a container of lard
Attending the neighborhood 4th of July holiday puke fest yesterday, I became disturbed and livid at the self-described hotness of some of these wives. It’s almost like a reverse body dysmorphic disorder.
Hag, just because your emasculated and pussy-whipped husband begs you for his weekly spelunking session in your bat-winged vagina, doesn't mean that every man on the planet would kill to bang you. And it’s funny how mean spirited snide remarks are always part of this miserable package. Happy 4th America.