Reading glow in the dark pron
I was made to know over my long break and sorry I am that it was such a long break but evil does not fight itself and I was made to know about some Oprah doctor named doctor G or doctor O or some such thing and apparently he holds the key to long health and goodness, this I was made to know.
I tried not to know but it was thrust upon me like this: what? never mind. NO, YOU MUST KNOW ABOUT THE POOP THEORY.
And then it was lost to me for how can I resist knowing the poop story?
How can even one such as I a man of might beyond the might of the most mighty avoid a story about fecals?
I was trapped and drawn in.
And so it was.
So this doctor G has some kind of news about how your poops should look and how they twist in the stool and if you look at them you will know things.
I never could figure out what you'd know but there is some sort of science to poop which is so-called poopology and if it curves to the left that means one thing and if it turns to the right, well that means another.
So to be honest, I had to look for myself. Before the large bed of overwipes I took a small peep the first day and it looked like a collision of time and space, to be honest. Apparently, heavy drinking does not afford a left turned or right turned poop but rather an explosion of the poop cosmos. The poop cosmos is vast and stinky.
So I had to check and check and over several days until one day it wasn't an explosion but rather a large fellow who's head was pushed out of the water and I'll tell you this, I panicked. Not like a girl panic but rather like a frightened girl panic and I pulled out my Johnny Depp razor and did I slash and slash at it, you bet I did.
Well, slash and slash may be an exaggeration. I got one good slash in and I think it was the poop throat or I thought so at the time because after the slash and what I assumed to be the poop head lolling off, the body slunk into the mystery hole where goes all the things that you have no need of like extra hairs and dirty dental floss.
Well, before I could get my bearings, the poop came back and with company for it was not the neck I severed but the tail. Much like a terrible giant worm was this poop and this time he came back, poop fangs bared and ready for action and with so many horde hosts and then the true slashing began and it was a maelstrom of slashing and near bitings and I'll tell you this...it went on so furious and strong that when all was done and I was finally able to flush down the fecal carnage I was covered in the stuff.
In fact, I think I accidentally had sex with one of the little buggers and that's how I got aids for they have only rear exits do the poops. And that's where you go in, apparently.
Sometimes the life lessons are hard won.
Hard one.
Anyway, have a nice weekend and remember it's spring soon. But not in Africa!
Anyway, that's the story about doctor G. Be careful of him.
I tried not to know but it was thrust upon me like this: what? never mind. NO, YOU MUST KNOW ABOUT THE POOP THEORY.
And then it was lost to me for how can I resist knowing the poop story?
How can even one such as I a man of might beyond the might of the most mighty avoid a story about fecals?
I was trapped and drawn in.
And so it was.
So this doctor G has some kind of news about how your poops should look and how they twist in the stool and if you look at them you will know things.
I never could figure out what you'd know but there is some sort of science to poop which is so-called poopology and if it curves to the left that means one thing and if it turns to the right, well that means another.
So to be honest, I had to look for myself. Before the large bed of overwipes I took a small peep the first day and it looked like a collision of time and space, to be honest. Apparently, heavy drinking does not afford a left turned or right turned poop but rather an explosion of the poop cosmos. The poop cosmos is vast and stinky.
So I had to check and check and over several days until one day it wasn't an explosion but rather a large fellow who's head was pushed out of the water and I'll tell you this, I panicked. Not like a girl panic but rather like a frightened girl panic and I pulled out my Johnny Depp razor and did I slash and slash at it, you bet I did.
Well, slash and slash may be an exaggeration. I got one good slash in and I think it was the poop throat or I thought so at the time because after the slash and what I assumed to be the poop head lolling off, the body slunk into the mystery hole where goes all the things that you have no need of like extra hairs and dirty dental floss.
Well, before I could get my bearings, the poop came back and with company for it was not the neck I severed but the tail. Much like a terrible giant worm was this poop and this time he came back, poop fangs bared and ready for action and with so many horde hosts and then the true slashing began and it was a maelstrom of slashing and near bitings and I'll tell you this...it went on so furious and strong that when all was done and I was finally able to flush down the fecal carnage I was covered in the stuff.
In fact, I think I accidentally had sex with one of the little buggers and that's how I got aids for they have only rear exits do the poops. And that's where you go in, apparently.
Sometimes the life lessons are hard won.
Hard one.
Anyway, have a nice weekend and remember it's spring soon. But not in Africa!
Anyway, that's the story about doctor G. Be careful of him.
<< Home