Girls are nothing but trouble. I tell myself that every night as I clutch my tear-stained pillow tightly to my cheek. "You don't need them, Dustin," my liquor-addled mind slurres. I bite my lip and whisper, "No I don't, other Dustin, no I don't."
Who are you again? I know you did a big, "I'm back!" but, like, thirty women posted twelve topics and left after that. How did I sexually harass you? Did I call you Sugar-tits or Cowgirl-style? I had to have commented on dat glasses. Or were you the one Wolf sent a pic of his red-bulbed penis to and she didn't block him? Cuz he'll be happy to see you back.
I'm not at all sure where to start here.
First of all, I don't get the reference.
I'm someone who hasn't posted since April, who you've never sexually-harassed, and who has never seen anyone's penis on this website. So, I think you might be a whole lot of confused.
Anyway, nice to meet you, I think.