I am the Master of the Clit
Look, I don't like to brag, but sometimes I have to. No one in at least the state and most certainly in Johnson County performs better cunnilingus than me. Nobody.
"What about the lesbians?" I hear you ask.
As I've said before, I have had to teach lesbians many things, amongst them proper technique of both performance and reception. It's all about technique of both performance, agility, and attitude, as well as proper receptive behavior - you know, the right, grunts, moans and "Holy Bejeesus, Roger! Master that Clit!", and other euphemisms.
Why am I not announcing myself as Clit Master of the World, or even the country? Two things. Ever since reading Erica Jong back in third grade I've had a terrible fear of flying. I was about ready to give it a try and join the Mile High Club but then September 11 happened and I was forced to redouble my efforts in motor vehicles and bathroom stalls - I've been told that my performance in the latrine of a Greyhound Bus is a very close approximation of the speed and power of a 747 water closet, and in most cases superior ("Gee Roger, that was great. I'm going to recommend you to all my friends.")
The second part is kind of related - since I can only get to Europe via a slow boat, and I've had a phobia about that since Titanic, I can't fully compare and contrast myself to the hotness and abilities of Euro Trash. So there you have it.
By the way, I am ready to put your money where my mouth is if you don't believe me. Any takers?
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Personal to "Big Red": Don't be alarmed - it's perfectly natural that your urine smells like Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. I would only call a doctor if it approximates Chili or Chicken Tortilla Soup (take it from me, these consistencies are no fun). Then you are most likely dealing with a potassium shortage.
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Now Playing:
"What the Hell is a Stipulation?"
"What about the lesbians?" I hear you ask.
As I've said before, I have had to teach lesbians many things, amongst them proper technique of both performance and reception. It's all about technique of both performance, agility, and attitude, as well as proper receptive behavior - you know, the right, grunts, moans and "Holy Bejeesus, Roger! Master that Clit!", and other euphemisms.
Why am I not announcing myself as Clit Master of the World, or even the country? Two things. Ever since reading Erica Jong back in third grade I've had a terrible fear of flying. I was about ready to give it a try and join the Mile High Club but then September 11 happened and I was forced to redouble my efforts in motor vehicles and bathroom stalls - I've been told that my performance in the latrine of a Greyhound Bus is a very close approximation of the speed and power of a 747 water closet, and in most cases superior ("Gee Roger, that was great. I'm going to recommend you to all my friends.")
The second part is kind of related - since I can only get to Europe via a slow boat, and I've had a phobia about that since Titanic, I can't fully compare and contrast myself to the hotness and abilities of Euro Trash. So there you have it.
By the way, I am ready to put your money where my mouth is if you don't believe me. Any takers?
---
Personal to "Big Red": Don't be alarmed - it's perfectly natural that your urine smells like Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. I would only call a doctor if it approximates Chili or Chicken Tortilla Soup (take it from me, these consistencies are no fun). Then you are most likely dealing with a potassium shortage.
---
Now Playing:
"What the Hell is a Stipulation?"
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