Admit it, fellas. Who among us hasn’t looked at our significant other and thought: “I wish I could put you in a snifter.”
It reminded me of a song from simpler days, when men were (weird) men, and women were … portable.
Pics below. By Gareth T, Carousel.
Wired!
And here I was thinking this fantastic worst might incite a Granda Move House quality and quantity of response.
Go figure. It’s sometimes hard to predict what type of bread the masses want.
Pigs, the lot of them. They get a pre-fab cock and tiny little lady in a glass, and they’ve got nothing to say.
I wonder how this business survives in these days of tech-savvy youths and their Photoshops.
I keep seeing Grandma Move House parked on Canning Hwy, a few blocks before the bridge heading towards Freo, where it’s impossible to pull over and take a picture. It has lost a couple of graphics panels so is less explicable than ever. yes I know no pic = no worst. But still.
Yeah, Iv’e seen an anal bleaching advert on the back of a car down the road but it’s parked in an impossible spot for pic taking. Must try harder.
Sometimes they’re so good there’s nothing to say
True, sometimes there so silly there’s nothing to say.
Portable, surely you mean potable
Heather Renée Sweet might be helpful.