While out and about to avoid my Father (when I came back home, he was very calm and asked me for a few things; it's so fucking weird how normal he was tonight, like a demon didn't possess him after dinner last night ... although he may have calmed down after I cleaned my room, although that doesn't set a good precedent ... or he may just have been nice to me because he wanted something from me ... see why I have a bad dad?), I decided to go to the Mall Of America and see some free tit at Hooters. But why did my eye spy as I crossed the East Rotunda on my way up there? The finals of the Minnesota Vikings Cheerleader Tryouts! Dude! I wish I had brought my camera!
"You should've been there" is the "duh" statement of the millenium. Sixty-two hot chicks in halter tops and tight shorts smiling, spinning, thrusting ... oh man. They put them through their paces -- they had to do, like, five routines over 2 1/2 hours. I haven't noticed that a lot of them are ripped -- strong legs that could choke me to unconsciousness! Cut arms that could make me pass out just after the point of orgasm! Abs you could ejaculate onto! Fuck Hooters, this is what those waitresses looked like before they enacted that pesky dress code where they had to tuck in their t-shirts! Right after they were done I made a beeline to BJ's to get to the eventual last step and see hot chicks completely naked!
And so yeah, I had to masturbate tonight. Sadly, I was so caught up in my weekly Tuesday ritual of looking at Reality Kings (hey, why can't I see the latest trailer of MILFHunter? This Kinzie Fox girl looks like she's a minx!) that I finished off with a Victoria's Secret catalog. I completely forgot to use the memories of the cheerleader auditions tonight. There were so many of them I couldn't hone in and jerk off to just one.
I also forgot to use material I saw about a week ago, around the time of the Masters. Anybody know Kenny Perry, the chubby forty-something playing the best golf of his life except that he screwed the pooch in the last two holes of regulation Sunday and eventually lost to Angel Cabrera on the second extra hole? I have to hand it to a guy who's enjoying a renaissance in his career after 40; gives me hope. Most importantly, I have to give him credit for being the father to Lesslye, who just happens to be a cheerleader for the Bastard Houston Oilers:
Oh. My. Fucking. God. She is a motherfuckin' goddess! The eyes, the smile, the tan, the thick Southern accent, the abs muscular enough to keep her going as she fucks me in the ass with a dildo! My Buddha, how could I forget to touch myself to her?!
The funniest thing about the video, and one thing I thought about when the MC at the cheerleader auditions at MOA announced their Junior Cheerleader Camp: Lesslye is seen posing in an incredibly skimpy bikini, objectifying herself in order to get heterosexual mens' dicks hard, while talking about kids' charities. Yeah, that ain't what you call a mixed message! That's like taking your family out to Hooters. Or anything coming out of the mouth of my Father.
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