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The ripped jeans will impress these prostitutes

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Andy pulled up his tattered old man jeans. Ill-fitting and full of holes, the jeans were a Christmas gift from 2004-2005 and were, at that moment, the only pants Andy Espresso owned. "They're jeans, they don't get dirty, really" Andy mused, as he buttoned his musty, ratty trousers. "Rich kids pay big bucks for torn-up jeans these days". Andy began rooting through a pile of old T-shirts, swag and freebies he'd accumulated over the course of his career. He picked up a dark blue NYPD shirt and sniffed it. Andy had gotten that shirt from his cop buddy, in 2007, maybe 2008. "It's clean, I haven't even worn it in months" Andy thought, as he squeezed his grotesquely swollen head through the neck hole of the frayed, pit-stained old shirt. The shirt fit snugly over his beer gut and love handle flab, accenting how pudgy and portly he'd become. Andy glanced at himself in the mirror. "HahaHAholeeeeeeshit! I look terrrrrrrr-i-ble!OH ho hee ha ha ha!". He minced his way over the chair and grabbed a button-down short sleeve shirt that he'd draped over the chair's armrest. He swished back to the mirror and put the second shirt on, then began nodding to himself in approval. "Yeah! It covers my fat AND it's youthful and cool! I'll tell people I wear a second shirt to hide my gun, it'll make me seem really badass and tough!" the fruity old queen thought.

Finished dressing, Andy pranced into the living room and donned his sad white orthopedic old man sneakers. "Shoes are a waste of money. That's for girls. Everyone wears sneakers all the time these days" pondered Andy. With that, he finished his beer, grabbed his keys and headed out to his public appearance at the minor league ballpark in New Jersey. Andy Espresso was dressed to kill, and he hoped the material he had planned for the evening would be the launching pad for an entire new "second act". "HahahaHAholeeeeeshit, there were no niggers in the 1960s space program! Holeeeeeeeeeshit! that fucking KILLS!" he thought, as he exited the parking garage and drove on the sidewalk. Andy was alive, brimming with confidence and verve, and he was prepared to vamp like he'd never vamped before.
 
Last edited:

Ant_It_Fun

Big Time
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17,880
Andy pulled up his tattered old man jeans. Ill-fitting and full of holes, the jeans were a Christmas gift from 2004-2005 and were, at that moment, the only pants Andy Espresso owned. "They're jeans, they don't get dirty, really" Andy mused, as he buttoned his musty, ratty trousers. "Rich kids pay big bucks for torn-up jeans these days". Andy began rooting through a pile of old T-shirts, swag and freebies he'd accumulated over the course of his career. He picked up a dark blue NYPD shirt and sniffed it. Andy had gotten that shirt from his cop buddy, in 2007, maybe 2008. "It's clean, I haven't even worn it in months" Andy thought, as he squeezed his grotesquely swollen head through the neck hole of the frayed, pit-stained old shirt. The shirt fit snugly over his beer gut and love handle flab, accenting how pudgy and portly he'd become. Andy glanced at himself in the mirror. "HahaHAholeeeeeeshit! I look terrrrrrrr-i-ble!OH ho hee ha ha ha!". He minced his way over the chair and grabbed a button-down short sleeve shirt that he'd draped over the chair's armrest. He swished back to the mirror and put the second shirt on, then began nodding to himself in approval. "Yeah! It covers my fat AND it's youthful and cool! I'll tell people I wear a second shirt to hide my gun, it'll make me seem really badass and tough!" the fruity old queen thought.

Finished dressing, Andy pranced into the living room and donned his sad white orthopedic old man sneakers. "Shoes are a waste of money. That's for girls. Everyone wears sneakers all the time these days" pondered Andy. With that, he finished his beer, grabbed his keys and headed out to his public appearance at the minor league ballpark in New Jersey. Andy Espresso was dressed to kill, and he hoped the material he had planned for the evening would be the launching pad for an entire new "second act". "HahahaHAholeeeeeshit, there were no niggers in the 1960s space program! Holeeeeeeeeeshit! that fucking KILLS!" he thought, as he exited the parking garage and drove on the sidewalk. Andy was alive, brimming with confidence and verve, and he was prepared to vamp like he'd never vamped before.

Try some decaf tomorrow.
 

LingerLonger

Still spreading the O&A virus
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30,744
Is there anything more iconic than a weird white guy with a gook girlfriend?
Did someone say gook women?
William_Calley_Jr.jpg
 
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