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If I had to choose between slamming my penis into Kristen Dunst or slamming my penis in a car door, I would at least request that car be American. Then maybe my penis could get buried in a national cemetery. And soldiers would hand me a folded flag while I cried at its funeral. I would miss my penis, we’ve had a lot of good times together, but I would respect its sacrifice. It would be the Pat Tillman of penis. I like to think it would never take the cowards way out and go east-west in that pale brittle troll, even for a minute. And I’m pretty sure I’d rather get a hand job from those hooded things in Lord of the Rings than that nicotine stained talon she’s got.
Oh, and another smoking picture to illustrate her arrogance/stupidity, cause this time she’s at a lung cancer event, The Louis Vuitton United Cancer Front Gala. I think Ward sent this one in. Notice how sexy role model Kate Bosworth is desperately pretending to not totally be into me. Kate’s the one who doesn’t look like she got dressed during a hurricane.
