Here are some last minute gifts for that girl you met on match.com. You know the one you’ve been taking to out-of -the-way restaurants, getting loaded, and sloppily banging.
How about these hoop earrings? You’ll love the way they dangle below her frosted locks.
Scrunchies! Scrunchies! Scrunchies! We love em, especially when they support our flag.
Every girls hands looks better wrapped around your rod when they’re painted up porno-style in a French manicure.
Wouldn’t these look great kicking it on the dance floor, or soles-up to your ceiling?
And finally since you never know how many guys have replied to her online profile, or how many schlongs she’s been stuffing up her cooch, give her condoms. Trojan, economy pack, wear 3! But count them when she’s in the bathroom pooping.
“You want to break up? Let’s break up right now. That’s it we’re broken up. How does it feel to get dumped by a Canadian? That’s right a Canadian just broke up with you.” This is what I heard while waiting for the eight people behind the counter of the starbucks on 23rd street to make my coffee. She continues. “I’ll never take you back. You’re going to see me in the bar making out with your friends and wish you were kissing me.” She’s not shy or discrete at all. She’s less than two feet behind me yelling into her silly flip phone. I start to imagine a face. “She must be beautiful.” I think. Anyone that confident and nasty must use some asset, other than her personality, as leverage. I finally get my coffee and innocently turn to see what she looks like, and holy shit … she was uggs. I did get this shot of her walking away. Notice the blobby ass, stuffed into the circa 1991 black leggings. Here’s a canuck who is preparing for another long, sunless winter, by stuffing her face.