Why are masses of horny, one-handed surfers landing on my beach? Google. I'm number 3 for Bristol Palin camel toe. Yeah, my mom is proud.
While I have her legs displayed prominently in various posts so I can make fun of them, and her breasts (completely obscured by clothing) have been known to hang around here, there have not been any camel toes belonging to Bristol Palin on this blog, until now. I always aim to please my anonymous, dick-holding fans. This toe is for you!
Here she comes, walking down the street.
In too tight pants, licking a frozen treat. Hey, hey its Bristol Palin.
Come closer, Bristol. Closer. Pay no attention to the camera I have duct taped to my shoe.
Got it. Time to zoom in.
Sweet merciful crap, that's a beautiful camel toe. Are you sure that you wouldn't rather have a nice photo of Britol Palin's beer gut? I'm going to have to use photoshop to enhance the toe. It's there, it's just hard to see. Give me a few minutes.
Yummy.
I'd rather have the frozen yogurt. What is it with you guys and your camel toes? Breasts, I understand. Legs, I like the legs. A juicy, bouncy butt rippling and jiggling with every move that she makes. Duh. A cute face, a beautiful face, nice shiny hair? Yes. Yes. Yes. Even a big sloppy, puffy vag stuck in my face, I can get with that program. But a camel toe - the slight indication that a woman may have an orifice concealed under clothing that we all know she has. It don't yank my chain.
*Ton is relative. Maybe a kilo of visitors would be more accurate.
