I had a dream in which I was fighting Drew Barrymore's chin. The chin was winning. It had me pinned to the ground and I couldn't breathe. The rest of Barrymore's heavy-jawed face stared down at me, yellow teeth grinding, crusty nostrils flaring, eyes bloodshot and demonic. Her enormous tongue launched itself out of her mouth, punched my eyes, and then started licking my hair. Her forehead transformed into a breast and vibrated madly, whirring like a food processor. I screamed myself awake and, God help me, had an orgasm at the same time.
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Yanno... my neurons are firing all sorts of whacky today... and after reading this post of yours, I do believe I could create and market a phallic alarm clock for Drew Barrymore fetishists... It's a microthin electrode, inserted in the peehole (sorry, is it urethra? I'm uncertain with the lexicon). The alarm time is set. And when it "goes off" a low level elecric current gets passed which stimulates the Kowpers Gland/s, and renders a noteworthy, "'Gasm, spasm, and spoo!!"
ReplyDeleteAnd for those unruly curs who have problems waking up and hit the "snooze alarm" (aka cooze alarm), I'd also market a companion device that will be a special scrotal restraint which starts to heat up in increments of 10 degrees until the wearer finally gives up the ghost, and shuts off the *ahem* alarm, and starts their day, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and empty-scroted.
I need a financial backer for some of my ideas, no? My talents are truly wasted being a servile servant...
Do you mean to tell me that the best you can get from Donnie Darko is a Drew Barrymore wet dream?
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