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Post coital regret is the number one cause of 98% of all shemale prostitutes getting beat up. Post coital regret is usually when i write my best autopsy reports. Shakespeare wrote huck finn after post coital regret. Alien jews built the pyramids after post coital regret. Karl Bischoff designed auschwitz after PCR. The list goes on and on. Shameful, regretful orgasms are a hallmark of modern masculinity, just like building a hotrod or killing gooks and hadjis with your bare hands.
Please come to my house. I will order you the most luxurious pizza. We can watch T V on my H I D E F. We can praise Jesus together. We can download and watch all the Brazilian lesbian face farting porn you want. I’ll dance for you, clean or dirty style. We can both root root root for the home team while doing lines of my grandmas crushed up Darvocet. I can put Lidocaine patches on your tits so it won’t hurt when i put my cigarette out on them. You can piss all over me, strangle me to death and then throw my dead body out the window so it looks like a suicide. I can do your taxes and increase your tax return by at least 23%. I can tie you off and pump so much H into the one good vein you have and you’ll float up to the sky and it’ll feel soooooo goooooooood. We can laugh together and i can give you a special tuna fish sandwich and then you’ll pass out and wake up 14 hours later with a severe prolapsed anus and a stomach full of my uncle Gerry’s semen. I’ll roll out the red carpet and even vacuum it for you or i’ll put down some newspaper and shit all over it like the disgusting domesticated primate i am. We’ll eat all the candy forever and never get diabetes or heart disease and we’ll be beautiful no matter what society sez but we can’t do anything until you come over.
the McDonald’s mating dance ritual is when you go to McDonald’s and like a predator, like a hound toothed sexual predator, you scope out the trashiest, thickest assed milf you can find, preferably one wearing spandex pants that are so tight you can see the color and shape of her panties. Once you’ve identified her, approach cautiously and walk around her in a counterclockwise fashion (but always mindful that you’re facing mecca) with your hands on your hips (think: fat flamboyant but sassy gay black guy). Walk around her in a circle like this for 5 minutes. If she hasn’t called the police yet, go behind her, drop to your knees, grab her hips and shove your face DEEP into her ass. Once your nose is firmly planted near her asshole, proceed to take deep, huge, greedy breaths of air. If she farts on your face while you’re doing this, then congrats! she has accepted you as a suitable mate. Go to the cashier and ask for the Manager, Cedric. For a nominal fee of $666 he will grant you a marriage certificate, full SNAP benefits and one complimentary session at the St. Obama Fertility Center of the People’s Republic of New York.
the security guard says, “sir, you cant smoke here, this a hospital”
i say, “nigga, please, its the cancer ward, these mothafuckas are on their way out anyways, lemme have my smoke in peace, damn.”
“nah sir, due to like laws and regulartories, the, uh, policy say you no can smoke here so like, you gotta put it out.”
“oh for the love of gay jesus, fine” i put out the cigarette on my forehead then swallow the butt, “see? happy?” i say, showing the toothless guard my empty mouth.
“that is like, uh, very good comply sir, at this like, uh, current conjuncture”
i walk through the cancer ward and maybe its because im white or maybe its because im wearing a doctors coat but everyone keeps stopping me and asking me dumbass doctor shit. there are some parents of terminally sick children in the cafeteria and as i crunch up three percocets to snort some of the parents come up to me and ask if poor old johnny or suzy are going to be OK and of course i lie and say, “yea sure, everyone’s always going to live forever” but i don’t lie because im mean or want to give them false hope (which may or not be better than no hope) but simply because im trying to hurry up and snort these fucking percs before i start to feel actual feelings again.
“thank you so much doctor” they all say as they bathe and kiss my feet, even some of the milfier mommies wink at me seductively while tugging at my crotch but jokes on them, my government mandated castration prevents me from getting erections. oh, i still get turned on, i just cant cum or anything.
i bet youre one of those guys that listen to music. i bet youre one of those guys that jerk off to porn of women having sex with men. i bet youre one of those guys that ejaculates semen. i bet youre one of those guys who eat 800 calories a day and sleeps for only 4 hours but always has an abundance of energy and everyone wants to be your friend. i bet youre one of those guys with horns and a tail and on sundown every friday you drink the blood of a pure, flawless baby while your man slave counts the rent checks of the poor people you slumlord over.