As much as I think about sex, I can only with extreme difficulty conceive of myself actually performing the act. And heres another thing I wonder about. How could you ever look a girl in the eye after youve had your winkie up her wendell? I mean, doesnt that render normal social conversation impossible? Apparently not.
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Consider, if you will, the morning boner. What a metaphor of hope and renewal! How can anyone give way to despair when one’s groin greets each day with such a gala spectacle of physical optimism?
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