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Go To Towns: Indiana Edition

(If one can “Go to town” when doing something with gusto, should not the superlative increase be “going to towns”? These are articles about some of those people who merely went to town in their ridiculousness, but did not fully commit by going to towns.) “For the first time in years I felt sexually alive.” The headline reads: Indiana Grandmother  Is Having A New Baby. With Her Grandson. It´s from yet another retarded “mom blog.” She is 72, he is 26. They didn´t know each other for most of his life (there was some kind of adoption scenario, who cares?), but when they met, it wasn´t even a matter of time before they were slapping pink wrinkly against gray wrinkly in the game of horizontal shuffleboard. “I called Phil into my bedroom, sat him on the bed, and then I leant over and kissed him.” They are in love, they make fulfilling, passionate, incredibly careful whoop, and they are going to be parents. “I never in a million years thought at 72 I’d be ‘pregnant’ and in love with my grandson.” The entire scenario is so deliciously groady, so horrifically and philosophically rank  that it rolls around the mouth like well aged santorum (c´mon, catch up).  In case we weren´t clear, Scumbag Style completely endorses this – – wait what? The pair paid $54,000 (£35,000) to find a surrogate mother and buy a donor egg to inseminate with Phil’s sperm. Let us get this straight, Phil. You went far enough to engage in a multi-generational incestuous…. nyehhh carnal relationship with your grandmother. You decided, against the very dictates of nature, to make a frigging baby with this woman who may not live to see the birth, let alone Junior Prom. You are able to describe, in graphic, hilariously nauseating detail, your … Finish reading this sumbitch!

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