It’s all the way out in Fort Worth. It took 45 minutes, 30 bucks in gas, and a 9 dollar cover to get us there. But ten minutes after we arrived, we were greeted with something so spectacular that it made all that worthwhile.
I give you:
Here I’ll get good and close for you.
Let that soak in folks. Notice the fringe on the tank, as if she needed help drawing your eye to her MASSIVE CLEAVAGE. And that poor tank top is so crying for help, plus it's dug so deep into her shoulders it’s a wonder how she was still getting blood to her fingers. But the boots? Not bad. They tie the whole outfit together, don’t you think?
The night was an amazing insight into how the other half lives. Here’s a hint: it’s in trailer parks.
Let’s see, number of children under the age of eight: 17
Number of pregnant women: 2
Number of women with infant in stroller with beer and cigarette in hand: 1
Number of ill fitting denim ensembles on both men and women: a frillion billion
Then there was this:
It's a bad picture, but those are her NIP. PLES. Showing through her shirt. So classy.
And this was all in the first hour. But you know what took the cake, I know. I KNOW. How could it get any better? Or is it worse? Either way, we came upon the ultimate sight. Now close your eyes, and put a little banjo music on in your head. Now picture your mom, local librarian, that nice lady who hands out church bulletins on Sundays ALL wrapped up in one lady. Her name might be, I don’t know, Betty. Put Betty in her best embroidered vest and high rise pleated khakis. Don’t forget the reading glasses on the chain. And what would be the perfect accessory for her to pick out? Why a “69” sticker of course. Placed directly in the middle of her shirt.
Whuuuuuuuut?
Gawd, I love this country.
It's my ironic cowboy hat and ironic big hair.
We're hot stuff people. Hot. Stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment