Milk, Milk, Lemonade. Around the Corner, Fudge is Made!

I was having a fantasy fight with Roger the other night. That little worm claimed that a Cleveland Steamer or a Hot Carl is sexier than a pee bath, drinking pee, a golden shower or the old man in the canoe sinking in the Yellow River. (Hint: the man is old because he's wrinkled)

What Roger doesn't understand is it's not what he thinks is sexy, it's what I think is sexy that counts. If I'd rather see him with a ball gag in his mouth than have to look at his O-face, then he had better get used to the idea that it's much sexier.

Just look at the hatmaker. Sure, he'll go for a Cleveland Steamer in a pinch (hee hee), but he realizes the supremacy of urine-based bdsm. Sometimes you need to be elbow-deep in an armadillo before you realize how sexy what you're doing is.