Ugh. The worst is when your woman buys that shit, shows it to you, then you never see it again. Like the thought entered her head the one day, then the reality of it sunk in, and she's over it. All you have to show for it is a box of kinky sex toys in the attic, that someone will bug out about after you die.
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Thinking of cracked-out and/or tweaking whores getting their throats and asses brutalized for the next hit makes me hard. --Rear Admiral