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Meet The Newest Jazz Fan (Yeah, I Know, the Title Is Cliched As Hell)

With all of my amazing manliness, huge pecks, chiseled abs, scruffy beard, and gourde-like chowder makers, I can't produce a single male offspring.

Of course, the pot head does it in his sleep.


Why, Satan, why? (PBUH)





But seriously, **** you and your son. I'll be thinking about how bad I hate you at the next dozen ballet performances and gymnastic showcases, you jerk, you.

The funny thing is it was like I was asleep when he was made
 
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