Good evening. Welcome to The BSD After Dark. Fix yourself a drink. Get comfortable. Take off those shoes. I know, you've had a really long day. Work sucked again? Sorry to hear that. Let me rub your feet for you. Just kidding, the BSD isn't a peasant. But I will fondle you and pound the pudding until you can't see straight. It's up to you.
No it's not. And it ain't rape if you yell "SURPRISE!" first.
Alas, the BSD has missed this. I want to take a bath in whatever is in these barrels, because I am sure, absolutely decidedly sure! that there is a bit of the Creature in there. Daddy likes. The BSD would get so rip-roaringly drunk compliments would cascade upon you like a waterfall deep in the darkest bowels of the jungle, natural, pure, unrelenting, raw, cold and wet, incessantly splashing you about the head and neck, slapping against the smooth, preternatural, post-pubescent nape of your neck, like a hurricane of pleasure, deeply touching you. Approved.
This dude, doing this, BEARDED. Approved. (Although he looks like he just realized that he pooped himself, in which case, Not Approved.)
Oh yeah. Approved. What range this young lady has!
As much as Suzie, Rachel, Michelle, Sandy, and Bree would probably annoy the shit out of me, talking about make-up and exchanging funny sexual anecdotes, this actually looks like a good time. The BSD wouldn't mind being the ham in this sandwich. Hell, its a veritable poonundrum. Approved.
This chick, taking the bus, reading what I can only assume is Faust. The BSD would like her to read the look on his face in the mirror as he assaults her rear quarters. Approved.
Just yes. PDE (Public Displays of Eroticism). The BSD Approves.
Rad editorial. Approved.
Pilati, smoking on the rooftop, morning, NYC, high-waisted shit!!! Gimme dem pants! yell the kids on the stoop. Approved.
Backyards with rope lights. Approved.
Kate. Shoulder pads. Approved.
Look at this shit. A cruise ship in the sky. Helium supports 2/3 of its 400 ton weight. The rest of the lift is provided by the thrust from beneath. Takes off like a helicopter. No shit. Bet you learned something new today from the BSD. Take that, Establishment! Approved.
Shiny balls. Approved.
Alexa Chung. Oh my hairless balls what I would do to this girl. I'd teach her things she didn't even know that she wanted to know. I'd make her walk funny. I bet if I saw her from behind it would look like two glorious balloons kissing. Her ass is so tight you could park your bicycle between those cheeks. Her ass is so tight she needs a can-opener to defecate. Her ass is so tight she could eat a pound of hydrogen and poop out a pound of Element 118. Her ass is so tight, only dogs can hear her flatulate. That ass is so tight she could swallow nails and fart tacks. I'd like to pick her up like a bowling ball and throw her onto my bed. Approved.
All I can say is if this isn't me in about 2 months, I'm going to just end it. This is how I strive, each and every day, to be. This is the reason I wake up. Its the reason I work out. This is why I applied to the University of Phoenix and ITT Tech simultaneously. Because I want to be this good. Its the reason I try to live like there's no tomorrow- because there is a tomorrow, and its full of cars, mullets, and wide-eyed optimism. And a fucking white beaded necklace. Because that's how the BSD rolls. And that's how your mom likes it. A-fucking-pproved.
Eat a dick. In fact, eat a bag of dicks.
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