We can't help it if your personal plumbing somehow has your colon routed to your vocal chords. Not even a plastic surgeon could fix that. (or, were you referring to your need to squat in order to pee?)
I slept with this Dan guy at the kentucky derby. His package is small and he smelled like horse sweat and pickle juice. He kept trying to diagnose my vaginal tags. I told him to keep eating and pretend they were cream cheese jalapeno poppers.
Dan, I have bad news for you. You're the guy that women use for a fast lay and could give a shit about. When you lose your looks, the only chicks who'll put up with you will be fatties and former methheads who look like jerky.
