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frantically far out...without a doubt | |||||
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An Exerpt"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." |
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