HI, I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND C.E.O. OF MEN'S WEARHOUSE.HEARKEN, HORRIBLE HUNCHBACKED HAMBEASTS AND AUTISTICLY ANTISOCIAL ASPIES, TO MY TITILLATING TALE OF TIGHT TWITCHING TWATS AND MY TREMENDOUS TESTICULAR TORPEDO TUBE.
FULLY FIVE YEARS PAST, I WAS RELAXING IN MY LAVISHLY FURNISHED DRAWING ROOM, PERUSING THE PETTY POSTINGS OF PREPUBESCENT PISSANTS ON THAT BLOATED BROBDINGNAGIAN BASTION OF BRAINLESSNESS, /b/, WHEN BEHOLD! A BLUE-HAIRED BELLE BASHFULLY BRINGS HER BEAUTY TO BEAR!
AT THE SIGHT OF HER LUXURIOUS LOCKS, MY LIMBER LAP-LIZARD LURCHED LASCIVIOUSLY AND I KNEW I MUST HAVE HER. CALLING ON ALL MY CONSIDERABLE CONTACTS, I CONNIVED TO CONTRACT HER ADDRESS AND FLEW FORTHWITH TO OXFORD3.
AS I DASHED DOWN THE DOOR TO HER DORMITORY, MY DAPPER DOWNSTAIRS DINOSAUR DRUMMED AT MY ZIPPER FOR RELEASE; AND AT THE SIGHT OF HER FELICITOUSLY PHALLIC FORM FACING ME ON HER BED, I TORE MY TERRIFICALLY TAILORED TROUSERS IN TWAIN, RELEASING MY RAMPAGING RAPE-ROD TO RAVAGE FREELY. AS MY PRETERNATURAL PORK PISTON POUNDED HER PRACTICALLY POURING PUSSY, HER EMOTIONLESS RED EYES STARED BACK AT ME, BUT I COULD SENSE THE CORE-CRUSHING CRESCENDO OF CLAMMY QUEME WITHIN. AND AS I SPRAYED A SPECTACULAR SPOUT OF SPARKLING SPERMSAUCE INTO HER GLORIOUS GOOEY GASH, I ANNOUNCED:
SHE IS CUTE, THAT IS WHY SHE IS CALLED CRACKY-CHAN.
I GUARANTEE IT.