Everybody has a gift. Everybody can do something a little bit better than everyone else. I have finally figured out what makes me special.
I'm good at being modest.
In fact the term "good" isn't good enough to describe how incredibly modest I am.
I'm probably the most modest person in the world.
It's difficult to imagine anybody else being as modest as I am.
I'm like the God of modesty.
Monday 26 November 2007
Tuesday 13 November 2007
Muppet - God of love
Women were attracted to this man, who wasn't afraid to test the conventional standards of fashion. They were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, not knowing that they would get burnt, not caring if they got burnt. They just wanted to be close to this gorgeous, hunk of a man.
It's not possible to describe just how good looking he really is, as the internet would orgasm and have to go to sleep, just for a few minutes, soon after hearing about his handsomeness.
He stood briefly by the door, a light wind followed him making his muscular muscles flap elegantly, like a butterfly dancing on a bowl of jelly.
A beautiful woman by the bar, turned to look at him. As her eyes met his penetrating gaze, like lazer-beam aimed at her heart, except it was her eyes he was gazing at, which is about a foot above her heart, therefore not her heart, even though she was showing quite a lot of cleavage, which is close to her heart, he still opted not to stare at her heart or cleavage.
Her heart, which is very close to her cleavage, increased in beat like a drum being played by a retarded child, but not the kind of child who loses interest in the drums after only a few minutes, but continues banging away at them for hours on end, even though he lacks much rhythm because, let's face it, he's a retard.
He sauntered casually over to her...
It's not possible to describe just how good looking he really is, as the internet would orgasm and have to go to sleep, just for a few minutes, soon after hearing about his handsomeness.
He stood briefly by the door, a light wind followed him making his muscular muscles flap elegantly, like a butterfly dancing on a bowl of jelly.
A beautiful woman by the bar, turned to look at him. As her eyes met his penetrating gaze, like lazer-beam aimed at her heart, except it was her eyes he was gazing at, which is about a foot above her heart, therefore not her heart, even though she was showing quite a lot of cleavage, which is close to her heart, he still opted not to stare at her heart or cleavage.
Her heart, which is very close to her cleavage, increased in beat like a drum being played by a retarded child, but not the kind of child who loses interest in the drums after only a few minutes, but continues banging away at them for hours on end, even though he lacks much rhythm because, let's face it, he's a retard.
He sauntered casually over to her...
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