Why, oh why, do obese motherfuckers (who can’t even grow a ponytail) insist on thinking they have lessons to share?

Ask this dildo.

Money quote telling you everthing you need to know:

If we’re to believe the author: Women have been throwing themselves at him since the book’s release. “Those dudes that think their woman just comes out to get a book signed are probably in for a rude awakening,” he confides. “As I’m hugging them they’re whispering right in my ear, so I’m loving it.”

What do they whisper? “Stuff like, ‘Can you write your number down?’ or ‘Where you gonna be after this?’ ” he says. “I mean, I would prefer something more sexual, but hey, that’ll do.”

Dude, you didn’t get offered punani, and you know it. You’re an offence to real writers who actually have something meaningful to say, other than “hey, look at me, I’m a moron with no home training.”

Lay-deez and germs,

Our (fat)man on the streets of France, the one who gave us shake ton booty and a look at the Fucker bus, has taken a bold step backward to become a full-fledged B’n'S contributor.

So let’s put our hands together for the man who has done more for the blacks than anybody … the one and only … Jacques Bonsergent! Big up big up! When he’s not choking down a grec in the Paris 18th area, he can be seen choking down a grec over in the 10th.

(Personally I think his name sounds a bit too much like Jock Ball-surge. But don’t tell him that.)

Party on, party people.

…. or perhaps to enjoy….

If only it would leave us!

I’m not even sure what to make of this one….

Urinating in front of the door or windows stinks

Truer words were never spoken.

Sometimes it’s too little…

Sometimes it’s too much…