Imagine Rooney's head turning crimson as he vigorously bothers a bonk-eyed orange tart with the complimentary pillow mint stuck to her left buttock. Then picture him at the moment of fruition, twisted into a hooting, neckless mess of lust that will indelibly print itself into your mind, corrupting all your fondest memories.
3 comments:
EEugh - I feel sick.
They've just made it impossible for me to eat baby beetroot, and I love beetroot in olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
Bastards.
You can see why Colleen says no.
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