It walks, talks, and quacks like a human vagina.

My vagina has never been drier. 

I want to tongue punch your fart box. 

She wants a house full of cups and the ghosts of last century’s lesbians. 

Your finger just got excited, is all. 

It’s some kind of fantastical mutant from the recesses of your happy place. 

If we put your brain in a fish it would bark. 

In the vacuum between when and how, I squat. 

The future is blue. Blue nipples. 

I’m going to go home and stick something in my mouth. 

Look for the purple banana until they put us in the truck. 

One can never have too many homicidal muffins. 

Sometimes karma is just really, really wet. 

Resolve really is the wasp’s buttocks. 

I’ll take out the hole so we can pull out the home things. 

It’s the shiny dick and we’re the two balls just dragging along. 

My life has become a never ending meat hangover. 

I’m just gonna buy the meat and jerk it myself. 

I wish I had done a better job setting my Fallopian tubes in resin. 

I’ll just stick my finger down there and hope for the best. 

Someday I’ll be in the mouths of the best people. 

If you’re going to eat a sandwich, you’d enjoy it more if you knew nobody fucked it. 

Taylor Swift’s vagina represents the left. 

Her insides must be nicely moist by now. 

Satanic gay penises are living in American pants! America needs Jesus pants!

I wish you wouldn’t use that expression. It makes my body cavities contract. 

She unloaded twinkly in your paddock?

When I touch it race cars burn rubber in my pants. 

Nuns get picky when they catch you echolocating your lunch. 

God hates Platonists!

All facial openings have been filled. 

Remove your pants! Those are woke pants!

The sistrums are tinkling. 

So should I go ahead and do a dump on the computer?

The last thing the world wants right now is raw, unsanitized bat. 

Can I have some of your penis jelly?

Not today, Satan, I am going through the photos of my lungs. 

They had trouble with unsympathetic genitals. 

The Lord yeeteth and the Lord yoinketh away. 

It’s a lovely morning in Hell, and you are a horrible goose. 

First we’ll put it in the A hole, and if that doesn’t work we’ll try the other one. 

Maybe if I painted it white and drew a filter on it, she’d let me put it in her mouth. 

People really need to believe more in their ability to beat up birds.

She’s kind of busy since the dog exploded. 

I wish I was less awkward about, you know, the whole seduction paradigm. 

I don’t care how well you clean it, I am not doing shots out of that alligator!

I’m getting a penis in early Spring, so that should be interesting. 

It saddens me, but she shoots a dildo at you. 

We drove out of the lubrication. 

I am not accepting feedback on my syllogism at this time. 

Not wanting to see tits is one of the early signs of being fabulous. 

A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate that we should be meat’s dream!

That’s the second worst reason anyone would carve a hole in a block of Spam. 

What if you’re just a Boltzmann brain? What of my balls then?

Not all of us are blessed with cavernous holes. 

How could I snort cum? It’s impossible!

The execution of the tooth fairy was not always spot on. 

Down, ovaries! Down!

They’re good at being meat guys. 

Went platinum no fetuses. 

The soft bulk of the yellow pages padded Sylvano Bussotti’s thighs. 

I hate it when I spontaneously create teeth. 

The diaper comes out of the oven golden, juicy, and soft. And it still makes a tasty sauce. 

I need a nut crusher to squeeze the milk out of my nut bags. 

If she were fully retarded she’d be banging all the unsexy midgets. 

I would buy bigger pants to have this in my life. 

I need you to come and help me slap my thighs around. 

Maybe I would start taking baths if I had something nicer to look at than my penis floating. 

Marriage isn’t meant to smell nice. 

I do not feel the pants euphoria. 

The buns are moving like lips. Listen to the wind blow.

The reason I am successful is that I do not sweat. Also, I don’t have to go to the bathroom very often. 

There’s an icebox where my twat used to be. 

Lube the dwarf!

Wake me when they revive the crocodile dung pessary. 

You won the sex competition nobody but you was having. 

His epididymis is shriveling. 

Feel how plump and firm my hand meat is.

Super Locrian, take me away!

All other emotions are a subset of either chomp or awoo.

 But what if your sex sounds so gross you forget you used the “touch” feature?

Did you (like me) find absolutely no inspiration in the pseudo-Smurf splatter genre?

I am so curious, it is hard for me to wait until I come home to my dongle. 

I came down to see you earlier. I needed something to suck on. 

I need you to be my bear carcass. 

As Thane of this town, where do you want your Kraken penis. 

 So, you will be taking some custard damage.