Kat Von D

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the lovely Kat Von D.

Yes she’s from that tattoo programme Miami Ink, and she got her own tattoo programme probably called somewhere else in America Ink, but she’s bonerific.

Yes she’s got a trying too hard to be cool name.  Who has an initial as their last name?  Mr T, that’s who and I pity the fool who try to muscle in on his patch.  But I pity him, because I’d much rather knock out some wrist wrigglers to this initialled beaut over his Snickers loving ass any day.

Look at her all covered in tattoos like a filthy biker, but she’s hairless and lovely, unlike most bikers.  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this chick.  If her idea of foreplay included having my nuts hooked up to a car battery, I’d raid the nearest Kwikfit garage.  Sure, taking my own actual car battery would be easier, but you have to show dedication.  If she then wanted to smother my left nipple in peanut butter and have a starving ferret gnaw it off, while putting my right nipple through an office hole punch, I reckon I could go that far too.

There is nothing I wouldn’t let this woman do to me.  She could come at me with a 15 inch strap on with a sand paper finish and I’d smile like a Cheshire cat.  Then I’d get giddy if she said she wanted to use salad cream for lube.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman.  If she wanted me to hold an ice cream cone out for her a la “2 girls 1 cup”, you’d lose all respect for me instantly.  I’d have her offering curled to a point on that cone before she could ask for a flake and raspberry sauce.

The pure thought of this woman alone gives me the kind of chubby that would have plugged the ice berg gash in the Titanic and saved a whole bunch of people.

There would have been semen everywhere though.