There’s a worm in my pie. 

God, I feel bad farting next to all those really expensive cars. 

Who’s going to care about my urine output now?

You mingled umlauts with my fiancé?

On no account must hot bottoms be placed on the bench top.

I exert myself on my organ with more than usual success. 

I can smell your colon on my pillow.

A wise oracle once said he could smell me.

I’m just so full of love for you it bursts out of every orifice.  

That doesn’t make my nose hair crackle. Quite.