The Tooth Fairy: Women are Sending me Broke
September 17th 2008 22:12
Women, foreign critters without impotent dangling bits who might bite off your penis at the drop of a that, have for the first time spoken, through clenched fists, about their fears of accidentally on purpose castrating their mates.
"When I was a young girl, I used to make a fortune off the tooth fairy," one woman, a two-legged thing with pursed laps, said playing with the teeth on her zapper as she flossed her parloury whites with a tea-bag.
It is long been accepted in male society, a thing with one head up the front and one up the back, that women, four-legged crappy crawlers, are a threat to their stranglehold on the pursed strings, and could snap at any time.
"I well remember my mother's embraces," said one fearful man, his knackers dragging on the ground, as he sat in the dentist's chair, "her teeth were all over the place," he continued, as the dentist, someone who's seen it all, produced a musical.
What we've all known for years is that women, yearning many on their backs, have, in their most intimate parts, the ability to cut a man, a worrier, down to size with just one or two sharp words, well armed, from their laps.
"You're going to require a filling," the dentist, underpants over the noise and mouth, told his patient, a woman who had fallen under, as he prepared the cavity while his assistant, and another woman, gagged and winced.
"When I was a young girl, I used to make a fortune off the tooth fairy," one woman, a two-legged thing with pursed laps, said playing with the teeth on her zapper as she flossed her parloury whites with a tea-bag.
It is long been accepted in male society, a thing with one head up the front and one up the back, that women, four-legged crappy crawlers, are a threat to their stranglehold on the pursed strings, and could snap at any time.
"I well remember my mother's embraces," said one fearful man, his knackers dragging on the ground, as he sat in the dentist's chair, "her teeth were all over the place," he continued, as the dentist, someone who's seen it all, produced a musical.
What we've all known for years is that women, yearning many on their backs, have, in their most intimate parts, the ability to cut a man, a worrier, down to size with just one or two sharp words, well armed, from their laps.
"You're going to require a filling," the dentist, underpants over the noise and mouth, told his patient, a woman who had fallen under, as he prepared the cavity while his assistant, and another woman, gagged and winced.
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"If you're going to read one thing this year about something you've never heard of that might affect your life more than you could ever know, read my new book: The Morose Code."
"I was reading it in the waiting room of my dentist's before going in for a root-canal. I think it was my dentist's."