Yesterday, I was next to the penis, holding it tight. And now, now I’m in the trash. I’ve been left for dead, and only yesterday me and the penis were buddies. We totally wrecked shop all penis and balls and underwear style. It was sick.
No. No, I don’t particularly smell. I promise. At least, no more than a normal day’s use. I don’t even know why I’m here, I can still hold that penis and balls. I can do that.
What? These? These stains are from a previous outing. And anyway, don’t blame me, blame that asshole. It’s not my fault, because it’s definitely not my job to wipe. I just hold the butt and junk. I’ve got nothing to do with the doo.
At least, I tried not to have anything to do with it. I tried.