Calling All Perves

I hate perves. I hate men who cannot control their inner sleaze. You see them drooling over every woman that walks past – checking out each ass that rolls on by. Those men who flip through channels just hoping to catch a glimpse of some tits. Those men who cannot control the urge to rub on their balls constantly. These men drive me insane and I have begun calling them out.

I could no longer take it as I watched a man at a local auto parts store. He sat there for ten minutes drooling over a car magazine that had a few pictures of some chick with her ass hanging out. He even had the nerve to "adjust" himself a couple of times. I finally approached him, handed him a bottle clearly marked "lubricant" and told him to think of the fun he could have if he bought the magazine and took it home. He left shortly thereafter with nothing in his hand but his own ball juice.

Another incident was at the park nearby. As I was watching my children play, I noticed Mr. Sleaze sitting on the bench – all giddy over the women joggers and obviously pleased with the bouncing boobage (his head even bobbed as they ran past). I had brought two oranges to go with lunch, but thought they could be used for a better purpose. I took the two oranges and approached the dickhead. I handed them to him and told him if he squeezed them while watching the tits, it would heighten the pleasure immensely. Needless to say, he left with his tail between his legs and rather embarrassed he’d been called out.

So the point is this: Women know all men are perves, but we don’t want to see proof. Keep your inner sleaze hidden or you may run into a bitch like me one day.