Right after that tweet, Lynch threw his phone in the pool, stared at it sinking for an uncomfortably long time and went to have lunch in Pacoima with a silent movie cowboy.
Right after that tweet, Lynch threw his phone in the pool, stared at it sinking for an uncomfortably long time and went to have lunch in Pacoima with a silent movie cowboy.
I shudder to think what those girls have gone through since they were kidnapped from their school in the middle of the night.
Hard to say considering we’re virgins, all of us.
The very idea of using Lysol as a douche gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies. How utterly awful. I’d think you’d eventually end up with open sores. Ugh.
There are a surprising number of allegedly heterosexual men who find the bodies of adult women disgusting.
I dated this guy for a week. He couldn’t stand the way I smelled like, TWO HOURS after I showered. I’m like, “This is how a normal woman smells, asshole.”
I am not making this up. Back in the 1970s when I was in my 20s, I worked with an older woman who told "us girls" that we needed to make sure to be douching with a solution of water and CLOROX. Can you imagine? I guess either that or Lysol is all you need to be dainty.
I dunno, how much you dick stank
So, is anyone going to point out to the girl in the header ad that the reason “dainty” Jean gets so many dates is that she’s clearly slamming ass* all over town? How are so many men noticing her pure panties?
I agree. “Hygiene” is now so ingrained that they don’t really need to advertise for it, those nose/lip contraptions have been replaced with plastic surgery, and that Vitamin C one is preposterous if only because our society doesn’t really emphasize vitamins and minerals all that much anymore—but I can definitely say…
I’m suddenly concerned about the state of my marriage, because I’ve never even considered my scalp odor.
Notice how no one was ever selling “cock wash” for that horrible dick stench..
you sound like someone who doesn’t use Lysol on their junk. I bet you don’t even HAVE a husband.
It’s June of 1950 and you’ve just finished reading a story in Modern Screen about Bette Davis’s recent divorce, and…
I made this topper out of jewelry contributed by friends and family, typewriter keys, beads, and vintage velveteen ribbon. We nerded out by adding a TARDIS and the 10th Doctor on the side of the bottom layer.
The baby is waiting until its parents’ anniversary so it can crash their special day like a fucking asshole.
It’s Tooth FAIRY, idiot.
I just want one man who is stupid enough to tattoo my name on his body.