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The Canadian roasties of 2018 have become chronically prolapsed STD hostels. Despite their steady dribble of viscous snail trails, their dangly beef curtains, even their near constant harvesting of new strains of HPV and gonorhea, Chads and Betas line up to service them, to wallow and worship in beefed out body horror.
It's been said the bow-legged Canadian sluts of our era are now so rotten, their eviscerated vaginas actually "spit" every time they take a step. Sometimes with an audible queef, other times quiet, these whores jettison whatever melange of fluids are sloshing within their polygamous caverns. It's not unusual to spy spotty trails and blood tinged puddles wherever the posterior of a sexually liberated Canadian woman has rested.
