Me and my big fat tiddies are here and shits about to get weird. How many fucking hours have ya **** searching profiles? Probably a lot, unless you’re a simp. They’re pretty satisfied with anything that gives them attention…but since that never happens (just like hims mommy denied him of) - here comes ole pathetic Peter, who beats off to his mom-traum as a treat. I’ll reluctantly let him stay after he pays me and as a ginger with no soul, I must say, it warms whatever was supposed to be there immensely making ole Pete cry and immediately sign off in shame post-nut. It’s okay, he’ll be back. Dad didn’t but that’s neither here nor there.

enough about pansy ass Pete. Congrats, you found the throat goat of vernacular assassination. If you yeet yourself, that’s on you, not me. You’ve been warned. I have an immaculate webbed toe who I made into a celebrity with tits, my bishhh Wendy the Webb. You don’t need to know about that though, mind ya business.

i do requests, customs and am open to hear your requests but chances are, you won’t be able to come up with anything beyond some basic “can you fart in a cup and then inhale it through your nose after snorting a line of wasabi” - at least get creative..but only if you aren’t some broke nerd because y’all are a waste of everyone’s time (yep, just like mama used to say)