Category: Echo

What the taint-tickle is happening, all my nervous sex-makers who have entered the mid-stage of a relationship and are stretching out with your senses like young Luke Skywalker, trying to feel for the exact right moment when you should go from the boring-ass. scripted-as-hell genital licking/stroking down to the little strip of no man’s land…

What the dangly-balls is happening, my fellow giant-scroted men who are just so proud of your big-ass nuts, proclaiming to anyone and everyone they do a great job of slapping the clit, but when you talk about them to a lady she just gives you a pained grimace and gently informs you they’re not beautiful…

What the Death Cock is going on, my fellow Meatpackers who’ve waited for someone to start an argument and then ended it by unzipping your pants and—Ka-THUNK—slapping your big ol’ womb-hammer down on the table, putting your hands on your hips, and smiling like the cat that got the motherfucking cre— Dude, just because you…

What the fart-cushion is happening, all you devious motherfuckers who have observed your enemy with rapt attention, waiting until they leave so you can sit in their seat and unleash a terrible blast of hot sauce-tainted Evil into the porous depths of their beloved chair, ensuring that when they come back and sit they’ll inadvertently…