Stop it. Just. Stop. It.
I won't call her Lady since a fair-of-face young gent such as myself might rightfully surmise that her dirty places have seen more pounding than a trans-continental railroad project manned by meth junkies.
But, seriously, she's trying to combine Red Lobster facewear with Fifth Element-chic, topping it off with a ghoulish Romanian Death Mask--and that was just for a late night carb-gallop to Shoney's.
Gaga me with a spoon!
I'm sure having two fully functioning sets of genitalia must be as mesmerizing as a Kardashian at a womens dogsledding convention, but it can't be a free pass for everything from freebasing caviar to wearing a diamelle-encrusted leather codpiece to a Today Show interview.
So, kind Sir/Mistress, please, for Denny, go back to your wayward hipster days, where the greatest offenses you committed involved breaking 129 pound club-boys' hearts.
If you look closely at the photo to the northwest, you can see a winsome tear forming above her left fore-antennae. That says it all.
Ex post facto,
Denny DelVecchio
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1 comment:
Cruel. So cruel.
Signed,
Lobster
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