Couldn't make it more than about 30 painful seconds. However fine the sentiment may be, the "music" is execrable. I wouldn't have posted in this thread at all, except it reminded me of the following. One night I came home late, smelling a little boozey, and the girl I was shacking up with met me at the door and dragged me into the bedroom. As she unzipped my fly I grew convinced that I'd been specially chosen for my ability to give a calming esophageal massage. With deftness born of practice she nabbed poor Grendel by the collar, dragged him into the light and laid his swelling body on the palm of her hand. Then she leaned forward, like an Italian appraising the canneloni course, and took a long, educated sniff. There was the essence of the feral rodent in the procedure. I felt shocked, and a little degraded, but reasserted my control over the universe by spanking her wet and fucking her dry. Sadly there's no video.

Decadence wrote:

WilberCuntLicker wrote:

. . . convinced that I'd been specially chosen for my ability to give a calming esophageal massage.

If you have yet to figure out why we are having such a hard time convincing people that you are not Tommy . . .

Do not tell me 
I am source of your knock-up 
The mud elephant 
Wading through the sea 
Leaves no tracks
William Chang, Winner, National Haiku Contest

WilberCuntLicker wrote:

Do not tell me 
I am source of your knock-up 
The mud elephant 
Wading through the sea 
Leaves no tracks
William Chang, Winner, National Haiku Contest

Fucking Fugs.