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March 13, 2016
You don't visit Beelzebub's Disneyland without exiting through the gift shop.
Sippican Cottage: You'd Never Guess as Much, But 'Stopples From the Silurian' Is the Name of My Plasmatics Tribute Band. But I DigressOver one hundred years of other people's foolishness could appear from that pipe. I jerked my thumb to indicate REVERSE, held on to the whipping cable to avoid a proper drenching, and prepared to be surprised. Out they came. The feminine pennants snapped in the breeze from the yardarm stay of my drain augur cable. Dracula's teabags. The things no man is supposed to buy at the Rite Aid. Tampons emerged like an army on the march. Now, it's not up to me to decide exactly how tough a tampon should be. Smarter men than I have determined that feminine hygiene products should be able to withstand a shotgun blast and an acid bath at the same time. It's a given that they should be more durable than space shuttle tiles.
Posted by gerardvanderleun at March 13, 2016 11:42 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.
Your Say
Wimminz rights require that SHE pay for the repair.
Posted by: ghostsniper ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://americandigest.org/sidelines/nav-commenters.gif)
at March 13, 2016 12:24 PM