Bend them like Beckham! Get it? Because some doctor has bent Victoria like her bawdy beau Brian Beckham into a pretzel of pulchritude sure to please every greasy go-getter from here to Honolulu. Men are lining up at the red carpet with their wrecking muscles out, ready to swoop and goop on those troops. Some of them can't even wrench tent, they're too busy crying. Little baby tears of a satisfied man, pleasured by Victoria's giant hooter extravaganza. This is truly one to put a score up on the board when strangers run up and try to have babies with her chest. Will it get pregnant? Double pregnant? You can certainly tell she wants it from dresses like this.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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