Cody Christano: The Life of an American Scum Bucket
Quickly you cool down and slow down the jeep. It's not worth it you think, when there are perfectly nice little girls to hit on. You slowly drive along the sidewalk and roll down your window.
"Hey girls, you like guys with jeeps?"
They look at eachother than at you, each with a disgusted look on their face.
"Mister...we're 13 years old. We don't like old guys in crappy cars." The blonde one states.
You scoff, "Pshhh! You both are dressed like you take sledge hammers up the cooch and love every pillow biting second of it. Now why don't you both hop in and slob on my knob?"
"Ewwww! Oh my God! Your disgusting!" The blonde one shouts. The brunette pulls out her cell phone.
"I'm calling the cops buddy!"
"Ohhh 13 years old and we have cell phones do we? Who bought that for you? Your sugar daddy who lathers your butt with honey mustard then fucks you with his meaty salami?"
"Go to hell you trashy asshole!" The blonde shouts as the brunette begins to read your liscense plate number into the phone.
"Hey girls, you like guys with jeeps?"
They look at eachother than at you, each with a disgusted look on their face.
"Mister...we're 13 years old. We don't like old guys in crappy cars." The blonde one states.
You scoff, "Pshhh! You both are dressed like you take sledge hammers up the cooch and love every pillow biting second of it. Now why don't you both hop in and slob on my knob?"
"Ewwww! Oh my God! Your disgusting!" The blonde one shouts. The brunette pulls out her cell phone.
"I'm calling the cops buddy!"
"Ohhh 13 years old and we have cell phones do we? Who bought that for you? Your sugar daddy who lathers your butt with honey mustard then fucks you with his meaty salami?"
"Go to hell you trashy asshole!" The blonde shouts as the brunette begins to read your liscense plate number into the phone.