she hits me as a bit downsy - but if that's what revs the engine
she hits me as a bit downsy - but if that's what revs the engine
Greta Thunberg needs to get fucked. Imagine being in Alabama with this preachy prissy mumble munchkin. You pull up Candlewood Suites in a fucking Dodge Challenger with aftermarket headers and parts that get you 11 miles per gallon. One rev of the engine and she's inexplicably moist in her room from the wound of your massive fuel-guzzling V8 roadboat.
You get out and take a minibike running on a lawnmower engine through the parking lot and into the lobby of the hotel because FUCK walking, we didn't invent internal combustion to scuttle around with our dicks in our hands. Moonwalk down the hallway to the elevator while turning every thermostat you see on full blast, and spraying CFC-saturated aerosol air freshners everywhere. Check your phone in the elevator and hit up your broker app really quick to but a thousand more shares of Exxon, BP and Shell stocks while shorting anything that has to do with solar and wind because solar panels look fucking gay and windmills are for dipshits. Reach Greta's floor, back-lit into the door, breaking that shit down and sending splinters flying off everywhere setting off fucking car alarms and barking dogs. Her primordial Scandinavian woman instinct kicks in and she immediately presents herself to you from all the viking raping and pillaging burned into her from Nordic DNA.
You put plastic non bio-degradable bag from Walmart over her mapper face, set a cooked rack of barbecue ribs on the small of her back, and go to town, throwing the cleaned rib bones at thw back of her cantaloupe head in between thrusts. After blowing your load and covering the room in non vegan protein, you wipe your monolithic dong on her priceless hand-made Native American uber-sustainable fair-trade honestly sourced hippie sweater. Jump out the wi dow into a formula 1 race car and cover the hotel in black rubber as yourout and blaze off into another American night.
Greta Thunberg needs to get fucked. Imagine being in Alabama with this preachy prissy mumble munchkin. You pull up Candlewood Suites in a fucking Dodge Challenger with aftermarket headers and parts that get you 11 miles per gallon. One rev of the engine and she's inexplicably moist in her room from the wound of your massive fuel-guzzling V8 roadboat.
You get out and take a minibike running on a lawnmower engine through the parking lot and into the lobby of the hotel because FUCK walking, we didn't invent internal combustion to scuttle around with our dicks in our hands. Moonwalk down the hallway to the elevator while turning every thermostat you see on full blast, and spraying CFC-saturated aerosol air freshners everywhere. Check your phone in the elevator and hit up your broker app really quick to but a thousand more shares of Exxon, BP and Shell stocks while shorting anything that has to do with solar and wind because solar panels look fucking gay and windmills are for dipshits. Reach Greta's floor, back-lit into the door, breaking that shit down and sending splinters flying off everywhere setting off fucking car alarms and barking dogs. Her primordial Scandinavian woman instinct kicks in and she immediately presents herself to you from all the viking raping and pillaging burned into her from Nordic DNA.
You put plastic non bio-degradable bag from Walmart over her mapper face, set a cooked rack of barbecue ribs on the small of her back, and go to town, throwing the cleaned rib bones at thw back of her cantaloupe head in between thrusts. After blowing your load and covering the room in non vegan protein, you wipe your monolithic dong on her priceless hand-made Native American uber-sustainable fair-trade honestly sourced hippie sweater. Jump out the wi dow into a formula 1 race car and cover the hotel in black rubber as yourout and blaze off into another American night.
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