|
"Franconia. what the hell can I say. Well framed in a mass of dishwater hair, she
has the flattest face I've ever seen. Consisting of only two paper punched holes, her "nose" is sanded
flush with her cheeks. Amid wrinkles of sun tanning excess, she has a silly ass frown with a stray dimple on one
side. Jagged, swarthy, and, well, just plain sinister eyebrows embrace her quarter inch, slightly crossed eyes...eyes
that perpetually ensnare your glance. She speaks with the cadence of a drunken waltz and insists on emphasizing
every third word uttered. Her body is shapeless as a can of soda but tough as a two dollar steak. Sure I've heard
she meows like the sultriest of waitresses, but it's all but ruined with a lipstick job colored way out of the
lines. And, oh yeah, she also has this esoteric tattoo of a, well..turd, I guess, on the back of her stubbly left
thigh that makes me mentally chunk. With all this, as you probably gather, she's probably not even pretty enough
to mop up the puke of a party pooped beauty queen the morning after the pageant."
|
|
|