Look, I'm thankful for Gag Factor. The first time I saw a woman voluntarily hang her head upside down so she could get "throatfucked until she gags and almost pukes" was practically a religious epiphany for me. I feel my life has been enriched and I am a better man for it. However, the depth of its influence in my life is beginning to manifest itself in alarming ways. For instance, I cannot process the verbal communication of women any longer. They may be saying to me "Filet O' Fish Value Meal with a Coke, Supersized, that comes to $4.79, please pull up" or "We have no alternative but to turn your account over to a collection agency", but all I can hear is "Glub!Glub!Gug!*coughhackwheeze*Guh!Guh!Guh!Glub*coughcough*!" It's rather like listening to the adults in the Peanuts cartoons. I believe that at least occasionally this causes me to miss out on information I may need. I know the words are reaching my eardrums, but my Gag Factor-addled brain can process it no longer. Also, on at least two occassions, the heads of women around me appeared to be on their necks upside down, snot bubbles and slime covering their cheeks and running into their nose. They were choking as well. It was like a bad acid flashback. However, I've never done acid. Unsettling as Hell. I can no longer communicate with women. Even when they write me a note it appears covered in phlegm and vomit and the messages are indecipherable gobbledygook. This complete breakdown of lines of communication is going to be trouble for me in the long run, I just know it. I do have an idea, though. I saw a sitcom in which a character's blunt trauma-induced amnesia was corrected by another blunt trauma. That's brilliant. So I propose that the good, decent, and honorable folks at JM invite me out to throatfuck one of their whores. As I see it, this is the only way to break out of the gag phantasmagoria I am currently trapped in. And after all, it is all your fault, JM.
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