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chris-littlechild - August 29, 2012
Our regular rendition of bountiful gamer ladyflesh returns, dispensing joy and copious delectable crotch-tingles to all (in a manner akin to that department store Santa Claus we once saw being apprehended by the authorities. Wholesome shenanigans). Today's raunchy revelry encompasses gleeful sex-tacular puns, possibly the most magnanimous ‘mam display ever conceived (for those with a befuddling penchant for 360 controller arousal. "Check out those X buttons," "I'd hit her right trigger," as we're assured today's urban youth are wont to say. That was all of their vernacular that we caught, before they pantsed us, gave us the finger and pissed off laughing. The little bastards. We've given the kindergarten the widest of berths ever since, lest the night terrors encroach again) and other such wonderment for your delectation.
But, to quote a mantra our Grandpa Joe was predisposed to recite when he was pissed (which was always), "Less facetiousness, more ogling." Heed the counsel of a fabricated alcoholic, and revel in the wanton womenfolk in the gallery.
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