I'm Beginning to Think It's Just Dilf
The more I thought about the odd and weird occurrences I witness from time to time, the more I realized Dilf was involved.

Exploding cabs? Dilf was with me.

Seeing a man in full Gorton's Fisherman gear, minus pants, riding a bicycle down a busy street on a bright sunny day? Dilf was with me.

Another man wandering the neighborhood in assless chaps? Dilf again.

Now, Double Post will attest that sometimes I see unusual things without Dilf -- but that could just be the residual effects from wearing his pajama pants. No, I never had an upstairs neighbor who wandered the halls in ratty boxer shorts, knocking on doors asking people if they had any Milnot for his coffee. That was all Dilf.

Of course, when I was married to the Evil One, we had a neighbor who raised chickens and fed them in the morning wearing nothing but a Speedo and a hat. He looked like the Skipper from Gilligan's Island. However, once I ditched him, that weirdness stopped.

While I ponder the possibility that Dilf is a magnet for strangeness, enjoy the latest video tribute to our wonderful February holidays:

Honest Abe would be honored.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

So you want more huh?
Click here!

Perverts, scram. There's nothing for you here.

Now, who wants cupcakes?

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