Call my voice mail at 978-558-0712
Leave me a message letting me know what you’d like to do to my body, or what you want me to do to yours. I hope it involves food like hot fudge, peanut butter… friggin’ Doritos. All of the above… I don’t even care!
Tell me what you’re having for dinner. Tell me how you got that rug burn on your knees. Tell me your darkest, dirtiest little secrets.
Call me when you’re drunk. Call me when you’re naked. Just call me!
If your message is a good one, I may use it in a future video at:
- “You are not a thyroid fatso, you are just an anatomical abomination! I don’t want to fuck you. I wanna fuck you, I wanna fuck you up badly! Like pushing a retard off a cliff in a wheelchair.” – Loving words left for me from my sweet little sugar dumpling, Blu Reyes-Saens
- “I’ve been a bad, bad, bad pizza delivery boy. I was trying to come to the house with that meat lovers supreme that you love so much and on my way to Chelmsford I was so excited I had to pull over 3 times to cum. And now the pizza’s cold, the cum is hot…” – Michael Angelo Tata, you always make my panties moist!
- “Hey Mammy, this is Wilford Brimley calling. Jeremy Fritz turned me on to your profile on seniormeetpeople.com. As you know I’m sure I got diabeetus, but uhhhh…if you’re interested I’d like to take you out to Old Town Buffet some evening and uhhh .. afterwards if you don’t mind the dialysis machines, I’d like to bury my big walrus mustache in your caterpillar hole. Hope to hear from you soon, sexy. Bye bye.”
- ” *..Long sigh..* Whateverrrrrrrr. Hello Mammy. It’s me Fagalicious. I’m spending the afternoon in the Hamptons and O’s to the M’s to the G’s it is gorgeous out! All of a sudden I get an invitation to go to Coney Island for a hot dog eating contest tomorrow. Coney Island?! I mean here I am drinking these beautiful colored drinks in the Hamptons and they want me to go to Coney Island? *Scoff – puleeeeze.”