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Bio
Now here's a broad who looks like he'd be fun to knock back tequila shooters with at a party, because you just know five minutes later his speedo's gonna end up on the ceiling fan and he'll be table-dancing all over some other bitch's jacket.
About
I'm a getaway, a 5 stars hotel. I'm your Mr. Meth, the truth injected or shoved up your nose. Smile (cynical), with your yellow teeth and forced naive sight. Let me be the action, the excuse, the reason, that one thing that makes your heart break. You need someone as good as me to make you feel wrong. I'm here to stay, you might as well get used to my smell, take your shoes off and join me for some good-old fashion margaritas.
A self-described "untouchable," that lowest rung of the high school social ladder below the band geeks, stoners, and girls who got pregnant the first time they put out, teenage gay "Tom-boy" Kkris T An epitomizes the abject humiliation of puberty: as gawky, unpopular and inappropriate-boner-popping as the day is long. Play, play! my music.
"Maybe "reality" is blonde hair, plastic body parts, tan skin and porcelain teeth?" - Kkris T An



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