I learned a valuable lesson this past weekend. Never go out for your average "Friday night of drinking" after you've just started taking a brand new medication. Because, apparently, you end up blackout drunk in your boxers, sitting on your buddy's couch, in front of like 6 of your friends, for no apparent reason.
Sometimes, I think I should just walk up to small children, point to myself, and say "Look at me!". Keep 'em on their toes. Show them what their kindergarten teacher really meant by saying, "You can be anything you want to be as long as you put your mind to it".
So, I've been thinking about Queefs a lot lately. And I gotta say, I'm perplexed. Who the fuck figured this out? This "Queefing on command", as they say. I mean can you imagine some chick walking around in Ancient Sumeria just popping those fuckers out and giggling. And then of course she teaches her sister, and then she teaches her friend, yadda-de-yadda. Then eventually thousands of years later the tradition is still passed on. As one of my middle school friends teaches the rest of our females friends how to "fart out the front", and a young Harry gets Queefed on at the pool. A bare-legged queef, with no shame.
Thanks a ton, Ancient Sumerian Queef Queen. Because of you I have experienced something far more disturbing and disgusting than the food poisoning I got from the giant turkey leg, I ate at the fair in 7th grade.
If dudes could fart out of their urethra on command, we probably would. But just because we could, doesn't mean we should. Dwell on this.
Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen... Stace hole:
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