I think she was looking for Rsmacker...

[Jack The Riffer]

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/buster/west-virginia/woman-utters-line-never-previously-recorded-police-report

:ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::ROTF::R OTF:

[MakeAJazzNoiseHere]

"Sure, I'll do it..."

"Uh, never mind!"

:ROTF:

[6string40]

[Axewielder]

I'd love to read a "full review" by Rsmacker!

[LouSiffer]

She then reportedly uttered a line never before memorialized in a police report: “Somebody is going to eat my pu55y or I’m going to cut your f&*king throat.”

I am kind of curious, if a man would have done this to 2 women, wouldn't it have carried a felony charge of gross sexual cohersion or rape??

However, this story is too damned funny!!

I got a sneaky suspicion that rsmacker is not from across the pond...he is from West Virginia and his real name is Adam Watson.-Lou

[Axewielder]

Us resourceful and ingenious Americans will find a way!

[markD]

too much!!!! hahahahaha, that is hilarious!!!!

[Grim]

Good god, that's rich

[MakeAJazzNoiseHere]

Good god, that's rich

And musky!

:ROTF:

[Rsmacker]

Moi?
I tell you what, she looks a bit of a fox, so the knife wouldn't have been necessary (probably smells a little foxy too).

Let me give you a tip, gentlemen. This bloke was obviously not a REAL man for chickening out when it came to the crunch (does it mention any crunchy bits?) , he was probably Italian, I'd guess.
Anyway, when confronted by a gamey minge that looks and smells like roadkill skunk, don't offend the poor lass by scrunching up your nose and refusing to l-l-l-l-l-ick it better, you might seriously damage her self-esteem for life. Now, being the sensitive chap that I am, I say that once you've commenced a bombing run, you can't abort when approaching the target (unless, of course, you are double teaming a tramp with one of your good buddies, then you can act like a big kid by pushing him at it and going "Uuuu-rgh, you're It!" whilst giggling and pulling faces)

No, the trick is to "num" it. That is to say, rather than inhaling the heady aroma and rubbing your face in it, as one normally does, like a dog rolling on a dead bird, the trick is to spit on it liberally and attack it with your tongue, making sure you are mostly breathing out heavily onto the offending article. Move your face to the side, like Mark Spitz going for gold, when you need to breathe in, and, also like Mark Spitz, sprint for the finishing line, flailing your arms for effect.

A stinky foo-foo is a characteristic trait of salad-dodging chicks, so you may be able to hide below the belly apron and grimace, holding your nose, whilst noshing away, and she'll be none the wiser. One one memorable occasion, whilst crouching under a fat belly, like a Tommy hiding from a Hun sniper at the Somme (wet and miserable, yearning to go home), I employed a sneaky tactic - spitting on my finger, and flicking her bean whilst pretending that I was licking. That did the trick, my face had been going numb from the noxious gases emanating from her snatch by then, but this trick brought her off in no time. Mission Accomplished. Then I bummed her. Double Win! (She spoiled it by drawing the line when I tried to give her a cock-drawn Dirty Sanchez, miserable bitch).

A word of warning - this is only effective if you keep your head in close contact with the beaver - if you pull away for a breath and continue finger stimulation, she will think you are a fucking chameleon. Miss Stinky Twat 2006, as she probably was, loved my "tongueing", and told plenty of people what a cunning linguist I am. I only felt a little bit of a fraud, after all, putting my face near that gaping maw was a heroic feat in itself, it fu-cking reeked.

The good part about an overly-ripe snapper is that the stench will mellow into the smell of Victory by the morning, but will be really stubborn when you get to the post-match scrub-down. Even a vigorous face sanding won't shift it, so you can wear it like a badge of honour. Strolling into the pub a day or so later, the piano player will stop, conversation peters out, and everyone will turn to see which sexy bastard has walked in. By that time it's not an offensive malodour, it's like Hai Karate Special Clout Flavoured Xmas 1982 Edition, you'll be fighting off the birds, they will be miraculously attracted to you. Best part, of course, is kissing your Mum hello when you rock up for Sunday dinner:
"Oh hello son, you smell nice......."

[levantin]

nice

[dustin1969]

I wonder if she wipes her strings down after she plays

[javert]

and oils her Floyd regularly?

[Gartron]

'Smacker...I really wish I'd had a wise figure like you in my life when I was 17!!

[Jack The Riffer]

The big question here is....

Would Bill eat her ass? :ROTF: