brass knuckle meat pounder. i already like beating my meat for many reasons. it tenderizes the meat, it’s fun, and the name is amusing because i am a twelve-year-old boy. but NOW! oh boy. i would find new excuses every day to just BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF dinner.
everything about this.
i just want nice shit, is that so hard?
literary spelunking… the only spelunking i’d ever attempt, anyway.
i NEED this in my house at this very moment. i need a house first. but immediately afterwards!: this.
want want want to be this well stocked