06-15-2005, 08:53 PM
Sometimes, while I am sleeping, Smokey McSmokerson will T-bag my forehead.
Imagine, for a minute, waking up to grape-sized shriveled things resting against your feverish brow; cool relief from the fire of illness.
Dog Balls.
Imagine, for a minute, waking up to grape-sized shriveled things resting against your feverish brow; cool relief from the fire of illness.
Dog Balls.
![[Image: Junkinbox.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v660/run71324/Junkinbox.jpg)