MN Manmacker's mansploitation
There oughta be a responsible adult whose job it is to protect those tweenage singers from having to sing such awful songs.
The music was teeny-bopper shit, real stomach-churning… Thumper ain’t gonna fixate on the music. It was bad, that’s all there is to say. Like girl-soldiers, it just felt wrong in every way, like somewhere, there oughta be a responsible adult whose job it is to protect those tweenage singers from having to sing such awful songs. But Thumper weren’t gonna fixate on the music.
All them partyers virtually shouting to be heard over the failed razzle and aborted dazzle of the warbly pop music, shit do it get Thumper’s dick soft!
The party was crowded, but the music was bad. Normal but bad. Music got awful while Thumper was in prison. He do try not to focus on it… Not just white people music neither, niggas be listening to some flat-ass mumble-rap bullshit. Thumper don’t judge.
Okay, Thumper do judge, but he don’t fixate on it.
Thumper usedta be cool. He spent lotta his cool years in prison. Now he was the old weirdo bumming around a house party, ain’t nobody talking to him cuz he was scary, twice the age of anybody here, looking like a cast-iron nigga with a foulness, all them partyers virtually shouting to be heard over the failed razzle and aborted dazzle of the warbly pop music, shit do it get Thumper’s dick soft, it weren’t even party music. Can’t dance to it! People forgot how to pick music for a party, damn!
But Thumper weren’t gonna fixate on that.