Culo Miércoles mas calor

Rumpus.

Soft morning light.

Walking tall.

Renegade.

The wild ones.

12 thoughts on “Culo Miércoles mas calor

  1. Hark as soft morning light shines on thine hogan, enhancing ones’ appetency to unearth the knowledge of the taste possessed by this tender vixens ass. The revelry is euphoric.

  2. Admin bringing a strong field to brighten my Miercoles — coupled with Large pulling Barstool out of the dumpster fire it had become — the impending summer solstice looks as bright as the sun peeking through thine yonder hogan.

  3. Politics.

    Last night was talking to some Mexican friends of mine at dinner, technically after dinner, when they were sweeping up, and we got on the topic of borders, immigration and why Trump will separate Mexican families for free but not mine- after I gave the prick $2,500.

    Here’s the kicker. I started listing the things that Mexico can be proud of and would you believe that Herve Villechez was not Mexican?

    Sonofabitch was actually a French Born Fillipino! Now, I’m very good at this stuff; I was absolutely floored.

    Herve was a great actor, never got to show his breadth as an artist. He was type-cast much like Donny Most was or the guy who played Corky in Life Goes On. Hollywood was a cruel place then, maybe today he could have got a #MeTattoo thing going. But back then he took his lunch pail to work every day, got dressed for his 30th first communion, and was stuffed in glove compartments and locked in refrigerators for our enjoyment. He’s missed, and I made the point the Mexicans should be proud of him anyway.

    But last night wasn’t just dancing around the hat. I had to bring up the maid who threw Clapton’s kid out the window. Now there’s a lesson there but I started losing them at this point and my wife went outside to sit in the car. Bottom line is, Clapton didn’t need a reason to write another sad shitty song. He even went back and made that song he wrote about fucking George Harrison’s wife sad and shitty. i can see writing some snot-nosed dirge after nailing Yoko, maybe call it “Rayra”. Or if he banged Paul’s wife who stepped on the land mine, that might be a sad song. But Mexico certainly didn’t do us any favors there.

      1. Well done Jack as always. If you do land that Mexican embassy job may I suggest you author a bill for Taco Tuesdays?

    1. Raaaaayyyyyrrrrraaaa
      You got me on my knees
      singing preeze baby PReeze!

      Now I can’t get that out of my head.

      I guess I rack disaprine.

  4. Nothing “Soft” about that morning light…
    Welcome back Jack
    Now Admins just needs to track down SoCal and Gerard Depardieu

  5. Renegade click through lost her tits in a medical experiment gone wrong? Why not just show some bitch with a Penthouse bush admin?! Step the fuck up.

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