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Watch the ages folks – Pic 2 is very close to one I would consider to remove. Taking advice and opinion from another Mod when they come online
*google searches image*
Can't get a source on the person, but it seems to be a gif that has floated around from site to site, while being categorized as teen. Doubtful -and I stress doubtful- she'd be under*ge, considering the popularity (as moderate as it may be) but because she's a tad on the skinny, scrawny side, it's understandable. Pic removed!
Thank you. Mwah. BB
Anytime <img src="/heart.gif" width="" height="" alt="<3" title=". I complied, if only for the hope of getting some sort of reward from Lover. Fingers crossed for a private lap dance.
I'm just gonna assume these gifs match achat poses.
Drats, one post late. But nope, just me.
Next to post is terric.
Done. You receive a note. On it, it reads:
“I wish for a teleporter.”
You've received the wish of Sexi'. Congrats.
I wish to kiss Jennifer Lawrence.
I'd laugh loudly, screaming that I'm ticklish.
What if I have you a soda?
“Crap..” is all I could think as I look over my shoulder to observe the buckin’ Bronco Ol’ Joe and JD spoke of while I down my drink.
“Well, Hukk my boy? Mason is game.” Joe says, still holding onto the bottle of Jack Daniels that rests atop the counter. I can imagine he notices the nervous tick of hesitation in my eyes. The slow feeling of dread that has slowly begun to roll down my spine and down toward my toes.
Joe, perhaps in an effort to snap me out of any thoughts of ominous peril suddenly speaks with a sharp tone. “Hey kid.” he starts. I look over back at him, and blink. “C’mon. There’s a bottle of Jack in it for ya’ if you win. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life Hukk my boy…it’s to never turn down the opportunity to win a free bottle of Jack.” ol’ Joe concludes, laughing a hearty, boisterous laugh.
I slam my glass hard onto the counter, staring toward its empty base. “Well, how can I say no to a challenge?” I finally blurt, as I spin myself around the stool to face the mechanical bull.
Ol’ Joe claps his hands loudly, while releasing a laugh.
“Ha! That a boy you two! Looks, like we’ll be getting a show today!” he exclaims. With an energetic step I didn’t know the old man had, he charges over to the bull in order to get it set up.
I lean over toward Mason, who looks more curious then worried. “Why couldn’t we just accept a game of pool?” I whisper, as I scratch the back of my head, staring down onto the floor.
Mason chuckles underneath his breath, nodding in agreement before finally speaking, “Well, when a bottle of Jack is on the line, I will darn well do about anything to get that bottle.”
I slump slightly on the stool, my elbows resting just along the fringes of the counter.
“Ever ride one of those things?” Mason asks, scratching his chin. I take a moment to rummage through my head if at any point in my life I’ve ever ridden a mechanical bull. “No..” I say in a low hushed tone. “But, I’ve ridden on the Cyclone over in Cooney Island..does that count?” I reply dryly. Mason bursts out laughing, slapping my back with a loud thud. He begins to stand, shaking his head.
“Well, I can’t really say Hukk..” he says, pausing as he still chuckles. “But I know this ride may be a tad bumpier then the rides over in Cooney.”
I grimace while looking over to JD..the man with that cowboy hat on. He reminded me of the Marlboro man – casual and laidback, but with an air of wild outdoor ruggedness, that necessitated respect from those observing. I slowly nod at him. He nods back, while tipping his hat just slightly, smiling.
Mason looks down at me, shoving his hands into his pockets, still grinning. “Well Hukk. Lets show em’ what we’ve got.”
I begin to make my way over to the imposing mechanical bull. It looks old, rusted, and beat. The thing looks like a safety hazard. Ol’ Joe slaps the saddle loudly, as dust flies out into the air.
“Oh, she’s a real beaut’. Don’t worry fellas’….she may look ragged and used..but trust me. She’ll run just fine.” Joe says.
Suddenly, like a demonic force raising its head out of hell, the mechanical bull springs to life. “There we go!” Ol’ Joe shouts with giddy child like enthusiasm. “Alright…who’s gonna be the first one to ride?”
Mason and I look at one another with baffled expressions. A moment of silence settles across the bar, before I finally speak.
“Well, only one way to see who goes first..” I begin. “Rock, paper, scissors.” I conclude.
Mason laughs beneath his breath shaking his head, before nodding in agreement.
We each extend our arms, and say in unison “Rock, paper, scissors shoot.” I throw out paper. He throws out rock.
“Shoot. I lose.” Mason exclaims. “Well, I guess you win. Go up there then Hukk.” he says with a smile.
“Nice try Mason, but I’m afraid winner decides on who goes first. Tag. You’re it.” I reply, chuckling.
Mason shakes his head, looking down onto the ground, as he kicks his boots against the railing surrounding the bronco. “Well, a fella’ had to try.”
Mason dusts his hands, before finally climbing over to ride the mechanical buckin’ Bronco.
Yep. *throws confetti*
Correct. Your move holy man.
that sexy banana..
The ground beneath you begins to shake, as you hear a loud rumbling noise coming from the north. You watch a tank comes careening towards you.
“What monstrosity is this?!” you shout, taking aim with your bow. You let your arrows fly. *swish*. They bounce harmlessly off my tank, as it inches closer and closer to your position. You hear, via the loud speakers placed around the tank my voice.
“Ever seen a tank blast at an apple? FIIIIIRE.” *BOOM* A roaring shot echoes in the air as your body flies backwards from the impact of the shell. In a haste of panic, you abandon your bow, as you run down the hill screaming. I yell through the loud speakers. My Hill.
eats…that banana.. :-*
I walk up to you and ask you to leave. You say fighting over this hill is madness. I yell…This…..is…..Sparta! I kick you off the hill. My hill.
Stop.
Posh, with a hint of attitude. Beautiful.
peel a banana.
Hollywood.
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