HI, I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND CEO OF MEN'S WEARHOUSE. ON A RECENT BUSINESS TRIP TO TOKYO, I FOUND MYSELF IN A VIDEO ARCADE, WHERE ONE OF THE LOCAL TEENAGE BOYS WAS ATTEMPTING TO MAKE UP FOR HIS UNFATHOMABLY TINY TWAT TACKLE BY PLAYING "DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION" IN FRONT OF A GROUP OF JIGGLY-CHESTED JAPANESE JAILBAIT.
SCOFFING AT HIS SCANDALOUSLY SIMPLISTIC SKILLS, I PROCEDED TO LIBERATE MY TWITCHING TESTICULAR TRUNCHEON AND SWING ITS PRECIPITOUS POUNDAGE INTO THE YOUTH'S FACE, CRUSHING HIS SKULL AND FREEING THE MACHINE. I THEN ACHIEVED A RATING OF "AAA" ON THE SONG "MAX 300" USING ONLY THE RAPID RIPPLING OF MY RAUCOUSLY RIGID RAPEROD.
NEEDLESS TO SAY, THE WET-PANTIED WOMANLY WATCHERS WERE ALREADY IN THE THROES OF PASSION FROM THE OVERPOWERING SCENT OF MY TORPID TESTOSTERONE TUBE, SO I LET THEM GATHER 'ROUND FOR A GROUP HUG OF THE GARGANTUAN GIRTH OF MY GORGEOUS GUY-GIRDER BEFORE CONQUERING EACH OF THEIR QUIXOTICALLY QUIVERING QUIMS WITH A FURIOUS FOUNTAIN OF FROTHING FUCK-FOAM.
MY HIGH SCORE HAS NEVER BEEN BEATEN. I GUARANTEE IT.
WE ALL ARE THE SAME, YET WE AREN'T. FOR WE ALL LIVE IN DIFFERENT TIME SPACES.
A SPACE TIME ANORMALITY HAS BEEN FORMED, THE LARGE OBJECT CAN NOT BE IDENTIFIED. THE SMALL CRAFT IS VIC VIPER T301! IMPOSSIBLE! IT CAN'T BE!!
WE ARE ALL LIKE VIC VIPPER VIPER, LIVING IN A GRADIUS V WORLD. ALL PISSED OFF BECUASE WE CAN'T GET PAST THE FOURTH LEVEL.
Name:
VIPPER2006-05-23 22:37
IT'S BEEN OVER 20 MINUTES, FAGS. MOAR POSTS.
MY PENIS FROTHS FOR MORE
Name:
George_Zimmer2006-05-23 22:44
HI, I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND CEO OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. I'D BEEN HEARING ALOT LATELY ABOUT THE MERITS OF THIS CHUCK NORRIS FELLOW, SO I THOUGHT I'D PAY HIM A VISIT- ZIMMER STYLE. AS I APPROACHED HIS HOUSE, I HEARD A TWIG SNAP BEHIND ME AND THEN OUT OF NOWHERE CAME THE LEG OF THE ONE AND ONLY CHUCK NORRIS. LUCKILY MY REFLEXES WERE TOO FAST FOR HIM. MY MASSIVE MASCULINE MEAT-PIPE BURST FORTH FROM MY FINELY-TAILORED TROUSERS, ENSNARING HIS LEG WITH THE POWER OF A THOUSAND ANACONDAS. HIS ONCE POWERFUL INSTRUMENT OF DEATH THUSLY DESTROYED, HE WAS COMPLETELY POWERLESS. I DECIDED THAT THAT UGLY MUG OF HIS WAS NOT UP TO ZIMMER STANDARDS, SO I DETERMINED TO DELIVER A MAKEOVER HE WOULDN'T SOON FORGET. HE BEGAN TO CRY LIKE A KITTEN UNDER A STEAMROLLER AS MY PULSATING PELVIC PILEDRIVER DELIVERED BLOW AFTER BLOW TO HIS EVER-SOFTENING SKULL. AS I FINISHED OFF MY FLESH-SCULPTURE, I REALIZED THAT I HAD FORMED HIS HEAD INTO THE SHAPE OF DEVIL'S TOWER. THE SHOCK CAUSED ME TO LET FORTH A FLOOD OF CAUSTIC COD CREME THAT BURNED OFF THAT RIDICULOUS STUBBLE HE CALLS A BEARD. HE'S UNCONCIOUS NOW, BUT HE'LL SOON WAKE UP. HE'S GONNA LIKE THE WAY HE LOOKS. I GUARANTEE IT.