Sometimes I really have to wonder just what the fuck these men are thinking. Your wife tells me that every fucking time she makes plans for a romantic evening, you cancel once you see the sitter. Whenever her Book Club comes over, all of a sudden you are interested in reading. Her mother? Really? Since it seems you can’t handle a date with your wife, she has decided that your manhood is useless to her.
Sitting in a bar, flirting with barmaid, is not where you are supposed to be. I am creative, and I tell you to meet me in the bathroom for a quick, hot fuck. How filthy can we get? Let me handcuff you to the sink fixture. Now, I got you!
We could have done this the kind way, with a bit of anesthetic. We could have, but your attitude calls for pain. I don’t have a scalpel, but I do have a rusty old pocket knife. Of my, I have made quite the mess.
0 Responses to “Where The Fuck Do You Think You’re Going”