Dirty old men, can’t get your hands off of me, you just, want to, touch me, all over my body, don’t you?
Dirty old men, they can, NEVER get enough of these (don’t even, losers!), I know I look S-E-X-Y, with my size FORTIES on top (but hey, I’m still not wearing anything “revealing” here, am I? Heck no! So, why you MOTHER !@#$ERS, still ogling, huh? Haven’t seen a set of SIZE forties, have ya?
Dirty old men, I walk by, and I feel them, reaching toward me, with those, lustful eyes, and drools are, coming from, the corners of their, god damn lips, and it makes me SICK!
like this???
photo from online
Dirty old men, STOP looking, or, or, or I’ll, MACE you! Oh wait, I won’t, ‘cuz, I don’t have a bottle of THAT stashed inside of my purse, I got my GUNS, right here, located on my face, underneath my N-O-S-E.
So, STOP looking AT me, stop OGLING at these size forties of mine, and you will keep on ogling all you want, but, I will still, NEVER allow you to touch, ever again.
And yeah, I got grabbed on my TITS, the weekend before Mother’s Day last year, by that god damn, MOTHER @#$%ING old HORN-DOG that I passed by regularly when I headed downstairs to get my things from the super convenience shop already, ‘k??? Yeah, and dudes, DON’T EVEN!!!
Life, the Obstacle Course 