(no subject)
HI, I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. WHILE SURREPTITIOUSLY PLUNGING MY ROSY-CHEEKED CYCLOPEAN ALLY INTO THE ANAL CAVITY OF A YOUNG MIGRANT FARM WORKER OF INDETERMINATE GENDER IN THE FRONT ROW OF A MOVIE THEATER, THE POOR YOUTH SCREAMED FOR MORE THAN THREE MINUTES STRAIGHT, FINALLY COUGHING UP A LOAD OF 100% PURE ZIMMER SAUCE AND PASSING OUT. THE OTHER MOVIE PATRONS, ANGRY AT THE INTERRUPTION OF THE ADVENTURES OF SHARKBOY AND LAVAGIRL IN 3-D, BEGAN PELTING ME WITH DRINKS, FOOD, AND PHONE NUMBERS HASTILY WRITTEN ON NAPKINS. UNFORTUNATELY, MY OUTRAGEOUSLY DAPPER SUIT WAS RUINED IN THE PROCESS. I NONCHALANTLY PULLED THE UNCONSCIOUS YOUTH OFF MY ENORMOUS EYEBALL GOUGER AND STRIPPED NUDE. THEN, WITH A BESTIAL ROAR, I BEAT THE ENTIRE AUDIENCE TO DEATH--WITHOUT LEAVING THE FRONT ROW. ON MY WAY OUT, IN THE CUSTOM OF THE ZIMMER FAMILY, I GAVE THEM A BURIAL AT SEMEN. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI, IM GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MENS WEARHOUSE. MY YODELING MANSEED-SPRAYER CAN KILL A YAK AT THIRTY PACESWITH ONE SWING. ITLL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL WHEN ANYONE ON CAN COMPLAIN ABOUT THE POWER CONTAINED IN MY FORTUNE 500 FETUS FACIALIST. ILL TRACK YOU DOWN, WITHDRAW MY MISCHIEVOUS MAIDEN MANGLER FROM MY UNCONSCIONABLY SEXY SUIT AND WATCH IN SILENCE AS YOU BEG TO SUCKLE AT MY TERRIFYINGLY TANTALIZING TESTICLES. YOU WONT BE ABLE TO RESIST ME AS I SATIATE MY RANDY RAPE ROD USING YOUR QUIVERING FLESH. ILL LEAVE YOUR CORPSE FOR PASSERSBY TO FIND IT, NAKED AND DRIPPING WITH SEVERAL HELPINGS OF MY EXTRAORDINARILY EFFERVESCENT ESSENCE OUTSIDE THE LOCAL ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. THEN ILL MOVE ON TO YOUR MOTHER. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI...I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. LAST NIGHT I UNSHEATEHED MY MUNGO MAN SPIUT FROM MY JEANS AND FLOPPED IT DOWN IN FRONT OF YOUR MOTHER - YOUR SENILE DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOUR TAPPED AT HER CEILING BECAUSE OF THE CLAMOR. YOUR MOM WAS BARELY ABLE TO NIBBLE AT MY PLUMP, PRODIGIOUS MEMBER BEFORE I GRABBED IT LIKE A LASSO AND SMACKED HER ACROSS THE FACE SO HARD, SHE FLEW, SPINNING ONTO THE BENT OVER - AWAITING MY ADMISSION OF MY THROBBING ACREAGE OF FLESH. SHE COULD ONLY TAKE 30 SECONDS OF MY MAN MEAT BEFORE SHE FAINTED, I FINISHED AND USED HER TOOTH BRUSH AS A TOILET PAPER AND LEFT A QUARTER ON HER ASS. SHE CALLED ME FOUR TIMES TODAY. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. YOU BETTER START PRACTICING WITH 2 LITER COKE BOTTLES BEFORE YOU RECEIVE MY EXUBERANT EPIDERMAL CORDAGE. MY AMPLE HEAD TEEMING WITH MAN HOOCH IS SO COLOSSAL THAT GOD TRIPS OVER IT. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I'D LIKE TO BEAT YOUR MOTHER'S CHEST WITH MY ENORMOUSLY HEAVY, THROBBING PELVIC CROCODILE UNTIL I GEYSER A HUGE WATERFALL OF STICKY BABY DRESSING ON HER FACE. I'LL MOP IT UP WITH MY THICK HEAD AND SLAP IT ON HER LIPS SO THEY DON'T CHAP. SHE'LL CUM SO HARD YOUR DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS WILL NEED TO CHANGE THEIR SHEETS. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I TOOK YOUR MOTHER OUT FOR A PICNIC IN A PARK, SET HER DOWN COMPLETELY FLAT ON THE PICNIC BLANKET, BALANCED A PABST ON HER BACK, AND RIGOROUSLY VIOLATED HER FROM BEHIND - QUIZZING HER ON BASIC GEOMETRY IN SWEDISH WHILE SHE HAD A MOUTFUL OF A PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICH AND ANTS CRAWLING INTO HER ARMPITS. SHE CAME SO HARD HER FACE MELTED LIKE THAT NAZI ASS IN RAIDERS. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. THERE'S AN OLD SAYING THAT YOU COULD BALANCE A QUARTER OFF SOME GIRLS' ASSES. WE'RE WAY PAST QUARTERS HERE.. YOU COULD SERVE AN EXTRA LARGE PIZZA FROM DOMINO'S AND 3 2-LITERS OF PEPSI OFF THAT PLATTER. THAT'S MORE ASS THAN A TRIP DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAND CANYON. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I WOULD LIKE TO FUCK YOU NICE AND DEEP IN THE SHOWER - YOUR FIST CLENCHING HALF OF MY COCK AT THE BASE WHILE THE OTHER HALF SLOWLY PENETRATES YOU. YOU WILL BE BLINDFOLDED WITH A HAIR FULL OF SHAMPOO WHILE RECITING THE LYRICS TO THE BEATLES' ROCKY RACOON. WHEN YOU GET TO THE PART ABOUT GIDEON'S BIBLE, I WILL IGNITE MY COCK FUSE AND BLOW A LOAD SO HUGE YOU'LL GROW AN ADAM'S APPLE. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE OVER 23 DISTINCT SPECIES OF RAINFOREST LIFE SPINNING OUT OF CONTROL IN THAT GAPING GUNT OF YOURS? THAT TINGLING IS A YEAST INFECTION SO SEVERE YOU COULD BAKE BREAD. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I WOULD LOVE TO FLIP YOU SIDEWAYS ON TOP OF AN UPRIGHT PIANO, GRAB YOU BY THE PONY TAILS, AND FUCK YOU DEEP WHILE YOU RECITE THE POEM O CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN. YOU'LL COME SO HARD I'LL NEED AN UMBRELLA. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. YOU CAN REMENISS ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD WHILE I WREAK HAVOC ON YOUR CERVIX. I'LL JUST HOLD ON TO YOUR TITS THEN - YOU'LL COME SO HARD YOUR EYE PATCH WILL FLIP. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI, YOU'RE GEORGE ZIMMER, PRESIDENT AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE. I'VE HEARD A LOT ABOUT YOU, INCLUDING YOUR THROBBING MAN-MEMBER. I ALSO HEAR THAT YOU JAMMED YOUR ONE-EYED MONSTER INTO MY MOM LAST NIGHT. I GUESS YOU GOT HER GOOD BECAUSE SHE'S BEEN PAGING YOU ALL DAY AND NIGHT JUST BECAUSE YOU STUCK YOUR 25 FOOT ANACONDA INTO HER POOPER. I JUST HOPE YOUR HUMONGOUS THOBBING PACEMAKER MAKES HER BEG FOR MORE. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE. CECIL, YOUR TECHNIQUES SUCKS WORSE THAN MONICA LEWINSKY HOPPED UP ON BILL CLINTON'S COCK ON A BAD DAY. I WOULD ADMIT THAT I PLUNGED MY IMMENSE PEVLIC REDWOOD INTO THOSE HOT, DRIPPING ORIFICES ANY DAY OF THE WEEK. SORT OF LIKE THE NIGHT I HAD WITH YOUR MOTHER ON A MIDSUMMER'S EVE. SHE WAS ASTOUNDED WHEN I WHIPPED OUT MY LUMBERING MAN-MEAT AND MADE MY WAY WITH HER WHILE I RECITED TO HER PORTIONS OF DANTE'S INFERNO IN LATIN. SHE SCREAMED SO LOUD, IT CAUSED THE NEIGHBORS TO ORGASM. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, OWNER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE - HEY PENCILDICK, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU MADE A WOMAN SING WHILE YOU THRUST YOUR SORRY EXCUSE FOR A WARRIOR'S GREATSWORD INTO HER GAPING MAW? I RECALL ONE OF THOSE TIMES I CAME ACROSS ONE OF YOUR LAME EXCUSES OF A LOVE AFFAIR, ONLY TO DRAG HER TO A MOTEL SIX AND GIVE HER A RIDE ON MY INTENSELY MEATY MUSHROOM. SHE WAS SO ESTATIC, SHE STARTED SINGING, 'OH HOLY NIGHT," ONLY SHE NEVER GOT TO HOLY. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI, IM GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MENS WEARHOUSE. MY YODELING MANSEED-SPRAYER CAN KILL A YAK AT THIRTY PACESWITH ONE SWING. ITLL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL WHEN ANYONE ON CAN COMPLAIN ABOUT THE POWER CONTAINED IN MY FORTUNE 500 FETUS FACIALIST. ILL TRACK YOU DOWN, WITHDRAW MY MISCHIEVOUS MAIDEN MANGLER FROM MY UNCONSCIONABLY SEXY SUIT AND WATCH IN SILENCE AS YOU BEG TO SUCKLE AT MY TERRIFYINGLY TANTALIZING TESTICLES. YOU WONT BE ABLE TO RESIST ME AS I SATIATE MY RANDY RAPE ROD USING YOUR QUIVERING FLESH. ILL LEAVE YOUR CORPSE FOR PASSERSBY TO FIND IT, NAKED AND DRIPPING WITH SEVERAL HELPINGS OF MY EXTRAORDINARILY EFFERVESCENT ESSENCE OUTSIDE THE LOCAL ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. THEN ILL MOVE ON TO YOUR MOTHER. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI...I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. LAST NIGHT I UNSHEATEHED MY MUNGO MAN SPIUT FROM MY JEANS AND FLOPPED IT DOWN IN FRONT OF YOUR MOTHER - YOUR SENILE DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOUR TAPPED AT HER CEILING BECAUSE OF THE CLAMOR. YOUR MOM WAS BARELY ABLE TO NIBBLE AT MY PLUMP, PRODIGIOUS MEMBER BEFORE I GRABBED IT LIKE A LASSO AND SMACKED HER ACROSS THE FACE SO HARD, SHE FLEW, SPINNING ONTO THE BENT OVER - AWAITING MY ADMISSION OF MY THROBBING ACREAGE OF FLESH. SHE COULD ONLY TAKE 30 SECONDS OF MY MAN MEAT BEFORE SHE FAINTED, I FINISHED AND USED HER TOOTH BRUSH AS A TOILET PAPER AND LEFT A QUARTER ON HER ASS. SHE CALLED ME FOUR TIMES TODAY. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. YOU BETTER START PRACTICING WITH 2 LITER COKE BOTTLES BEFORE YOU RECEIVE MY EXUBERANT EPIDERMAL CORDAGE. MY AMPLE HEAD TEEMING WITH MAN HOOCH IS SO COLOSSAL THAT GOD TRIPS OVER IT. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I'D LIKE TO BEAT YOUR MOTHER'S CHEST WITH MY ENORMOUSLY HEAVY, THROBBING PELVIC CROCODILE UNTIL I GEYSER A HUGE WATERFALL OF STICKY BABY DRESSING ON HER FACE. I'LL MOP IT UP WITH MY THICK HEAD AND SLAP IT ON HER LIPS SO THEY DON'T CHAP. SHE'LL CUM SO HARD YOUR DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS WILL NEED TO CHANGE THEIR SHEETS. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I TOOK YOUR MOTHER OUT FOR A PICNIC IN A PARK, SET HER DOWN COMPLETELY FLAT ON THE PICNIC BLANKET, BALANCED A PABST ON HER BACK, AND RIGOROUSLY VIOLATED HER FROM BEHIND - QUIZZING HER ON BASIC GEOMETRY IN SWEDISH WHILE SHE HAD A MOUTFUL OF A PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICH AND ANTS CRAWLING INTO HER ARMPITS. SHE CAME SO HARD HER FACE MELTED LIKE THAT NAZI ASS IN RAIDERS. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. THERE'S AN OLD SAYING THAT YOU COULD BALANCE A QUARTER OFF SOME GIRLS' ASSES. WE'RE WAY PAST QUARTERS HERE.. YOU COULD SERVE AN EXTRA LARGE PIZZA FROM DOMINO'S AND 3 2-LITERS OF PEPSI OFF THAT PLATTER. THAT'S MORE ASS THAN A TRIP DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAND CANYON. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I WOULD LIKE TO FUCK YOU NICE AND DEEP IN THE SHOWER - YOUR FIST CLENCHING HALF OF MY COCK AT THE BASE WHILE THE OTHER HALF SLOWLY PENETRATES YOU. YOU WILL BE BLINDFOLDED WITH A HAIR FULL OF SHAMPOO WHILE RECITING THE LYRICS TO THE BEATLES' ROCKY RACOON. WHEN YOU GET TO THE PART ABOUT GIDEON'S BIBLE, I WILL IGNITE MY COCK FUSE AND BLOW A LOAD SO HUGE YOU'LL GROW AN ADAM'S APPLE. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE OVER 23 DISTINCT SPECIES OF RAINFOREST LIFE SPINNING OUT OF CONTROL IN THAT GAPING GUNT OF YOURS? THAT TINGLING IS A YEAST INFECTION SO SEVERE YOU COULD BAKE BREAD. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I WOULD LOVE TO FLIP YOU SIDEWAYS ON TOP OF AN UPRIGHT PIANO, GRAB YOU BY THE PONY TAILS, AND FUCK YOU DEEP WHILE YOU RECITE THE POEM O CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN. YOU'LL COME SO HARD I'LL NEED AN UMBRELLA. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. YOU CAN REMENISS ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD WHILE I WREAK HAVOC ON YOUR CERVIX. I'LL JUST HOLD ON TO YOUR TITS THEN - YOU'LL COME SO HARD YOUR EYE PATCH WILL FLIP. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI, YOU'RE GEORGE ZIMMER, PRESIDENT AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE. I'VE HEARD A LOT ABOUT YOU, INCLUDING YOUR THROBBING MAN-MEMBER. I ALSO HEAR THAT YOU JAMMED YOUR ONE-EYED MONSTER INTO MY MOM LAST NIGHT. I GUESS YOU GOT HER GOOD BECAUSE SHE'S BEEN PAGING YOU ALL DAY AND NIGHT JUST BECAUSE YOU STUCK YOUR 25 FOOT ANACONDA INTO HER POOPER. I JUST HOPE YOUR HUMONGOUS THOBBING PACEMAKER MAKES HER BEG FOR MORE. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER - FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE. CECIL, YOUR TECHNIQUES SUCKS WORSE THAN MONICA LEWINSKY HOPPED UP ON BILL CLINTON'S COCK ON A BAD DAY. I WOULD ADMIT THAT I PLUNGED MY IMMENSE PEVLIC REDWOOD INTO THOSE HOT, DRIPPING ORIFICES ANY DAY OF THE WEEK. SORT OF LIKE THE NIGHT I HAD WITH YOUR MOTHER ON A MIDSUMMER'S EVE. SHE WAS ASTOUNDED WHEN I WHIPPED OUT MY LUMBERING MAN-MEAT AND MADE MY WAY WITH HER WHILE I RECITED TO HER PORTIONS OF DANTE'S INFERNO IN LATIN. SHE SCREAMED SO LOUD, IT CAUSED THE NEIGHBORS TO ORGASM. I GUARANTEE IT.
HI... I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, OWNER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WAREHOUSE - HEY PENCILDICK, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU MADE A WOMAN SING WHILE YOU THRUST YOUR SORRY EXCUSE FOR A WARRIOR'S GREATSWORD INTO HER GAPING MAW? I RECALL ONE OF THOSE TIMES I CAME ACROSS ONE OF YOUR LAME EXCUSES OF A LOVE AFFAIR, ONLY TO DRAG HER TO A MOTEL SIX AND GIVE HER A RIDE ON MY INTENSELY MEATY MUSHROOM. SHE WAS SO ESTATIC, SHE STARTED SINGING, 'OH HOLY NIGHT," ONLY SHE NEVER GOT TO HOLY. I GUARANTEE IT.