THERE IS a certain type of woman whose intrinsic femininity and grace transcends that of mere sex or sexual attraction, and approaches a platonic ideal that is “woman.” Such ethereal nymphs give pause to any of us, for who could help but admire such delicacy of features—such tenderness of bubbies? These celestial creatures inspire us to wonder and elevate us to awe; the diamond strain of their existence cuts through the dark coal dross of our lives and infuses it with a satiating shine. They convey the satisfaction that, yes, in fact, in this oft-ugly world there is beauty.
Melissa “Missy” Pendergrass, however, is a total fucking cuntbag.
Because it would appear that there is another type of woman in the world. A type of woman for whom idiocy and vapidity skip hand-in-hand through fields of blossoming narcissi. A type of woman who abuses what modest features her mediocre genetics have bestowed upon her to exploit unsuspecting men into feeding her tremendous sense of self-importance. This is the “Missy Pendergrass” type of woman, and let me tell you some things about her.
Missy Pendergrass’s face smells like a butt, and her butt smells like two butts… no, three. Three butts. eroticfantasy.org