By clicking “Fine”, you agree to the storing of cookies on your device to enhance site navigation, analyze site usage, and assist in our marketing efforts.
Oh my god, ladies, stop. Because he's literally at mine. But I already claimed him, like I already burned him with my HIV, so... Yeah, you can't lose that one. Sorry, ladies.
Why do you look like a pineapple? Oh, there's enough pineapple under the sea! I swear to God. And also, why you got your handy of paints? How's you doin'? Scratchy a ball sack? Ugh. Ugh. Jesus!