The Face We'd All Make If Prince Hot Ginge Was On Our Backs

It all makes get now. When I blacked out yesterday afternoon in the service of a few minutes, it wasn't because I cast-off NyQuil as a mixer. It was because big Daddy finally heard my prayers and deprecate me in the body of the fortunate bitch beast who got a monster serving of YES on its retire from at some polo match. This is some Freaky Friday shit!
The bolt from the blue of Prince Hot Ginge's aglow crotch scepter and orbs dry fucking my spicula must've erased my memory of this, but this show is proof that I switched bodies with his horse representing a quick second. Because if Prince avid Ginge was about to smack me in the nalgas while riding me difficult, this is the EXACT look I'd borrow. My eyes would scream "Dear Orgasm, it's me Michael, I'm coming on you!" My nostrils would flare up to the square footage of my no-no! And I'd unquestionably bite hard on an imaginary pillow. Yup, that was me.
It also explains why I woke up with straw shit all on the other side of my floor and naked Trace Cyrus pictures on my trace.
original is here