Published December 14, 2006. |
Aisle ogle
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This is to the beer-bellied grey-haired asshole at the Joe Howe grocery store on Friday night wearing jeans and a leather jacket: I noticed you fucking stare at me. You looked me over like a piece of meat—while my husband was standing there—and then looked at me directly in the eye. What were you expecting, Pam Anderson? I am all woman, and who are you to judge me with your fucking beer belly?! Go home to your wife or get a hooker and get laid. God knows you need to. Lay off looking at chicks. Get bent, fucker.
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Don’t judge me
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