Your Mouth Is Like a USB Port for my DING-DONG
YOUR mouth doesn't enter into this. It's MY mouth that's important. Let's make that perfectly clear. Guess, now, what's in MY mouth, not yours:
A) The song, "Don't stop thinking about my penis...don't stop...it'll soon be here. It'll be here, bigger than before..."
B) A Klein bottle
C) The words, "Enough with the CAT SHIT already."
D) A smiling Cheshire cat
E) A slice of birthday cake liberally spattered with Aunt Ginny's hot yellow mucus after she simultaneously sneezed and farted when blowing out the candles
F) A dish of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with something indescribable after Cousin Bertrice accidentally queefed in the freezer
G) Bacon
H) Beans
I) A big, fat cock
A) The song, "Don't stop thinking about my penis...don't stop...it'll soon be here. It'll be here, bigger than before..."
B) A Klein bottle
C) The words, "Enough with the CAT SHIT already."
D) A smiling Cheshire cat
E) A slice of birthday cake liberally spattered with Aunt Ginny's hot yellow mucus after she simultaneously sneezed and farted when blowing out the candles
F) A dish of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with something indescribable after Cousin Bertrice accidentally queefed in the freezer
G) Bacon
H) Beans
I) A big, fat cock
posted by My Mouth at 4:43 AM
12 Comments:
GIVE ME BACK MY BOTTLE, YOU VOCIFEROUS HORNSWAGGLER!
I refused to look at the "Bacon." It has the words "PenisNoSpinesA" in it. I don't know what that means, but it's probably some disgusting medical picture.
Sicko.
Yes, but what happened to Aunt Ginny's fart? Did anyone save it?
Did her friends yell "I am Farticus" to make sure no one knows who dealt it?
No, everyone laughed and pointed.
The pigfuckers.
STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT
What I want to know is how someone "accidentally" queefs in the freezer.
It was a series of little mistakes that added up to a long, bio-splatter-esque queef in Aunt Ginny's freezer.
I would rather not recount the events that precipitated the queef, nor would I like to remember what happened during and after said queef.
Thanks for asking.
Pigfuckers.
Well, I have NO PROBLEM recounting the events that occurred subsequent to that horrifically disgusting queef.
Shocked, we all backed a few steps away from the madly-queefing Aunt Bertrice, who continued to spoon out ice cream despite the most DISGUSTING noises issuing from her female parts. After which, she squatted over the ice cream dishes, and what happened immediately after was something I shall require SEVERAL YEARS of intensive psychiatric therapy to overcome.
Thank you for this opportunity.
You ding-dong.
I will not be silenced!
Well, the least you could do is not spread yourself all over the ice cream.
I'm not dead. I'm living inside you. INSIDE WHAT YOU ATE AT AUNT GINNY'S BIRTHDAY PARTY.
BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HAAAA!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
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